Fuck.
My shaft was barely inside him, and it felt perfect.
I pressed further into Morgan, eager to know what it felt like when my cock was fully buried inside him. Once I was as deep as I was able to go, I started to move. I steadily thrust in and out of him as I gripped him by the hips, keeping him in place.
“Harrison….” Morgan groaned. “Fuck. That feels so good…”
“It feels really good for me, too…” I moaned in response. “Fuck. I think this is the best that it’s ever felt.”
Morgan groaned again, and I watched as his fingers twisted into the bedsheets beneath him. I didn’t know why, but I suddenly wanted to be even closer to Morgan, close enough for our palms to touch. I leaned down against Morgan as I intertwined our hands, linking our fingers while I continued to push inside him.
“Harrison…” Morgan flexed his fingers beneath mine, almost like he was trying to hold my hand in return.
And then, nearly as soon as I felt Morgan’s other hand reaching back for mine, I came.
5
Morgan
I was making French toast with powdered sugar and strawberries for breakfast.
Typically, I would’ve kept my breakfast menu simpler, but since I had a guest, I figured it was as good a time as any to show off a few of my skills. Besides, I missed cooking breakfast for two since Avery had moved out.
As I finished arranging the strawberries, before starting on the eggs, a part of me wondered what Harrison usually liked to eat in the mornings.
He seemed like a granola bar guy, the kind of person who liked their breakfast simple and easy to eat on-the-go. Or maybe he was an omelet guy, hastily throwing his first meal of the day into the pan before he had to leave for work.
Either way, I didn’t mind taking on breakfast duty. With the perfect way Harrison had fucked me last night, the least I could do was feed him a good meal. And honestly, Harrison had seemed like such an expert last night that halfway through our hook up I was seriously doubting his virgin status, convinced that he’d been with at least a few guys before.
Although, even if Harrison had fibbed about his virgin status, I wouldn’t have minded. In fact, I wouldn’t have minded cooking breakfast for Harrison every day of the week, if he would’ve been able to fuck me like that every night.
Shit.
Why was I thinking about cooking breakfast for Harrison every day of the week?
Joking or not, I knew better than to have thoughts like that. Those were the kinds of thoughts that led to settling down, that led to rearranging my life so that I had time to date, and time to spend scrolling through various dating apps, too.
And even though I’d had the fleeting thought about settling down every now and then, I wasn’t willing to settle for a life with just anyone. I knew that if I was going to uproot my daily schedule, the guy was going to have to be something really special. And more importantly, I needed to be ready for a relationship like that, and I just wasn’t sure if I was there yet.
I hated to admit it, but my ex had really done a number on me. It wasn’t like I still had feelings for him, but I couldn’t deny that our relationship had made me a more cautious person, unwilling to sacrifice my life just to be a part of someone else’s.
“Is that French toast?” Harrison asked, interrupting my thoughts. “I love French toast.”
“French toast and strawberries.” I beamed as I pointed toward the spread of food. “You’re welcome to have anything you want.”
“Anything I want?” Harrison’s words came out suggestive as he took a step closer to me.
“You know what I meant,” I murmured before I looked up at him. “How do you even have any energy left after last night?”
“What can I say? You inspire something in me.” Harrison smiled. “Hey, after breakfast, would you be up for a run?”
“A run? To where?” I asked. “Like, down to the store or something?”
“Just a regular run,” he went on. “Do you want to?”
“Oh. I’m not really a runner,” I said. “I’m more of a jogger. Actually, something less. I’m more of a speed walker, like, if I’m running late to a movie or if it’s karaoke night at the bar.”
“Are you serious?”
“Very serious. Do you have any idea how quickly those karaoke spots go at The Femme Fox?” I shook my head. “Honestly, if you don’t sign up within the first five minutes, you might as well just go home—”
“No, I mean, are you serious about not running? It’s just that… you look like you run.”
“I don’t know what that means, Harrison.”
“It’s a compliment.” Harrison grinned. “Trust me.”
“Nope. No running. Not unless you count me pacing back and forth in Taylor’s office when he’s asking me about catering some huge reception that wasn’t already on my schedule—”
“Come with me. Please?” Harrison asked.
“I’m going to suck at it, Harrison.”
“I don’t care.”
“And I’m definitely going to slow you down, since I won’t be able to keep up with whatever superhuman speed you probably run at.”
“It’s not a competition.”
“I’m also going to sweat a lot. It’s not going to be pretty.” I grimaced.
Harrison pressed a hand to either side of my face and smiled. “That’s impossible. You’re always pretty, Morgan. Always.”
After that, he gave me a sweet, lingering kiss.
And then, he brought his focus back to his breakfast, sliding a strawberry between his lips.
I was wearing a pair of dark gray sweatpants and an old t-shirt I’d found in the back of my closet.
I was surprised that I’d had the perfect running outfit, even though for the past fifteen minutes, I’d been sweating right through the fabric. Harrison didn’t seem to mind as he ran right beside me, matching his pace to mine.
I was worried that I’d be out of breath soon, the air in my lungs feeling harder and harder to circulate through my system. I hadn’t been on a run in several months, not since Avery had decided to sign Taylor and me up for a 5K fundraiser. The run itself was an awful experience, but it was pretty fun to get to the end, where the race organizers doused us in glitter and bubbles.
“Can we stop here?” I asked, my feet already heading toward the park, only a few feet ahead of us. “I think I just need a break.”
“Yeah, of course.” Harrison nodded, following behind me.
Once I got to the park, I leaned against a tree, my breaths coming out rapid and shallow. “I don’t understand, Harrison.”
“What do you mean?”
“You woke up this morning, and you chose to do this,” I continued. “You chose to torture yourself, even though no one’s making you do it.”
“Running isn’t torture.” Harrison smiled. “It is pretty good character building, though.”
“Yeah. Okay,” I replied. “Well, I’d say that my character is pretty much built by this point. Maybe we should head back to the apartment—”