She’s beaming at that, placing the pie on the table. She brushes her hand over my cheek and smiles. “Well, I’m glad you brought him.” Her eyes say she wants to say more, but thankfully, she doesn’t.
She calls everyone in for dinner, and I settle at the table next to Travis, who has Amelia on his other side. It’s uneventful and quiet. And really damn nice.
When we’re stuffed full and heading out with a week’s worth of leftovers in our hands, my mom gives Travis a big hug and then me, followed by my dad doing the same.
I fire up my truck and head back to Hayes, my belly full but with something else sitting deep inside me. My mom seemed like she knows something I don’t when I talked about Travis.
Something I couldn’t pin down, and of course, she wouldn’t tell me.
But when his hand slips into mine as he rests his head back against the seat, I think maybe I know it too.
That maybe I do have more of an idea about what we are than I let on.
At least on my side of things.
I think I may be falling for him.
And that’s really not a good thing, no matter how damn good today felt.
TWENTY-FOUR
TRAVIS
I can’t believe his parents reaction to seeing us kiss this morning. They weren’t even remotely fazed. How is that even possible?
I don’t know.
But it was one of the best days of my life. It was warm and inviting. The house was full of laughter, and I was allowed to be myself. It felt good. It felt really good.
And when his mom hugged me before we left, it felt right in a way. Her eyes twinkled in a way that told me she has more knowledge than I’ll ever know, and I didn’t hate it. I honestly can’t wait to see them again.
“So, you going back there with me for Christmas? Because my mom mentioned it like fifty times.” He yanks his boots off, then takes his time removing mine as I sit on his bed. We should have taken them off by the door, but we’re both beat.
It was a long day, and he was right. I suppose his beat-up truck did just fine and got us all the way back to Hayes.
Still, don’t know how to break it to him, but there’s no way it’ll last forever. Though I figure that’s a conversation for another day.
He unzips my coat and tosses it on the floor next to his. “Yeah. I think so.” Why would I argue with that? She asked me a few times too if I wanted to join them for Christmas. And while I do wish in the back of my mind, my mom would send an invite, I’m not holding my breath.
He removes my shirt, and I let him, watching intently as he removes his own and tossing it. Then he removes his jeans before he climbs on the bed, his body hovering over mine.
He slowly undoes the button on my jeans, and I can feel my cock hardening, ready for him. I’m always ready for him. “Thanks for going with me today,” he whispers, leaning forward and stealing my lips as he unzips my jeans.
“Thank you for inviting me.”
He leans back to peel my jeans off when my phone vibrates in my pocket. He quirks an eyebrow at me. “Did you bring something special?”
“It’s my phone, dumbass,” I laugh and pull my phone out of my pocket, looking briefly at the screen. I see it’s Ryan telling me Happy Thanksgiving and drop it on the table next to the bed, pulling Oakley back in for a kiss, but he stops it.
“Who was that?”
“Just Ryan.” I pull his lips back to mine, feasting on them, but he’s not as into it as he was before my phone went off. His whole body is tense and not in a good way. I pull back to look into his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“You still talk to him?” He looks more unsure of himself than I’ve ever seen, but I know this is supposed to just be sex. Just two friends hooking up. I don’t want to spook him.
“Not often. He texts me sometimes, and I write him back, but I don’t really start the conversations.” It’s true. I tell myself it’s because I don’t have enough time, but I know that’s not true. I haven’t been as interested lately in texting back and forth with Ryan.
“Oh,” he says simply, but his body hasn’t relaxed yet.
“Do you want me to stop?” I ask him carefully, studying his handsome face closely, and I swear he looks pained.
“No,” he says, but his voice cracks a little.
“Are you sure?” I ask because I don’t know. Maybe I’m missing something. Is he jealous? Does he want me to stop?
Am I overthinking, like I always do, and reading way too much into it?
That’s very likely.
He smiles now, his body relaxing as he kisses me harder, his fingers dragging over my stomach. “You’re so fucking hot.”
I want to relax too. To push this whole thing out of my mind, but it’s running wild. He sure looked jealous.
But when he starts kissing down my neck and toward my chest, I can’t think anymore. Not surprisingly. His hands smooth over my chest as he kisses my lower stomach and then peels my boxer briefs off. He wastes no time swallowing my dick to the back of his throat.
“Jesus,” I breathe, wrapping my fingers in his hair. “You’re getting really good at that.”
I swear I feel him smiling around his mouthful of cock, but I just lean my head back and enjoy it. My mouth is already salivating for my turn, and it doesn’t take long before my entire body goes rigid and I come in the back of his throat, catching my breath before flipping him over and climbing onto him.
I can taste myself when I kiss him, and he moans into my mouth, humping up into me, dragging his dick against me, begging for relief.
Relief I’m happy to give him as I leave a trail of kisses over his body until I make it to his dick, flushed and hard, waiting for me. I tease him, licking the slit with my tongue, dragging slowly over it and tasting him.
“Travis,” he whines, and I smile. “Fuck. I didn’t tease you.”
“You do it your way,” I say evilly and drag my tongue down the length of his shaft and then back up to the head, running it over his slit again. “And I do it mine.”
“Your way is torture,” he groans, and I smile.
“So impatient,” I tease. Just as he’s about to argue with me, I take all of him in the back of my throat, gagging slightly, but it’s so worth it.
I bring him over the edge moments later, his cum splashing into the back of my throat, and I swallow it down before crawling back up to tuck into his side, my head on his chest.
“Fuck that was good.” He kisses the top of my head, and I’m too wrung out to agree vocally, but I nod in answer.
It’s always so damn good with him.
TWENTY-FIVE
TRAVIS
I groan loudly, annoyed by the sound pulling me from my dreams. My arm sweeps out to the table next to the bed. “What the fuck is happening?”
I feel Oakley’s big body move off the bed, leaving his side cold as I curl up to his pillow and try like hell to ignore the annoying alarm. I have my eyes closed, but I can still tell there’s no light peeking through the window.
“It’s early.”
“It’s really early, but get your ass up.” He swats my ass cheek with one hand, and I just mumble incoherently into his pillow, clutching it to me.