As we ride back to Kensley, my mind races with all the ways I can make Noah’s birthday memorable, but I have to stop before I sport a boner on the bus. Not. Appropriate.
We get back, and the kids shower and change before heading out, all of them in high spirits. It’s an unspoken agreement between Noah and me that I’ll leave first and he’ll meet me at his place.
The tension only grows on my drive out to the country. The cool night air drifts in through the slightly cracked windows of my truck so I can breathe it in. This is why I didn’t move to a big city when I left Big Bend.
There’s nothing like a country gravel road on a dark fall night. The moon is huge in the sky and filters through the trees, guiding my way to Noah’s. I park my truck and wait for only a few minutes before I see his headlights.
He parks next to me, and we barely make it inside before our hands are all over each other. This is all so damn new to me. I know he loved his wife—it wasn’t a situation where he used her to hide part of himself. He really loved her.
So I wonder if it was like this for him when they first got together.
I’ve never felt anything like this. This need and desire to be near him as often as I can. To never leave the comfort of his arms. It’s addicting and scary and exciting all at once.
We make our way to the couch, stripping out of our hoodies and kissing as I find the remote. He kisses down my neck while I find Friday the 13th on the TV. He chuckles against my throat. “You’re really going to make me watch these stupid-ass movies?”
I grin, but pretend to be offended, tossing the remote next to us as I climb on his lap, straddling his strong thighs. “It’s Friday the thirteenth. It would be wrong not to watch these classics.”
I lean into him, kissing his sweet lips as I hold onto his shoulders, my dick already rock-hard and begging to be set free, but I want to take my time with him.
“Happy birthday,” I breathe against his lips, my hands sliding down over his hard pecs and then under his shirt to feel his warm skin.
“Thank you.”
We should probably talk about the silence last night, but everything feels so damn right at the moment, I don’t want to ruin it. And he’s in a pretty damn good mood.
I lift his shirt up and off just as the spooky music starts to play from the large television screen mounted on the wall. My hands smooth over his soft skin as he wraps his arms around me and then pulls back to look into my eyes. “Are you my boyfriend?”
From anyone else, it would seem like a ridiculous question—and it probably should, considering he’s so mature and put-together—but the raw vulnerability in his eyes and the shakiness of his voice makes it completely unfunny. I move my hands up his chest and to his cheeks, grasping his face in my hands. “Do you want me to be?”
My heart thumps away in my chest, clenching as I wait for him to answer, the tension ratcheted up. This is far scarier than any movie I’ve ever seen. “I do.”
I smile, my heart feeling like it could burst with excitement. I might need to take it a little easier on the organ. “Then yeah. I’m for damn sure your boyfriend.”
He smiles. “It sounds crazy. I’m forty. And still stumbling around, trying to figure out if you want to go steady with me.”
I snort, unable to stop the laughter that bubbles up. “Jesus Christ. You’re forty, not eighty. No one says going steady.”
He grins, and I can’t resist stealing his lips with a kiss, my tongue sliding into his mouth and over his, massaging it. When I grind against him, I can feel his hardness is back with a vengeance. As is mine.
“And you’re forty,” I say, my voice full of gravel and sex as I look at my very hot boyfriend. I drag my hands down his chest as I slide down to the floor between his legs. “Forty years old today.”
He rolls his eyes, but he’s still grinning as I grab the hem of his pants, making sure I leave his briefs on as he lifts his hips and I pull them down his strong hairy thighs.
I remove his shoes and socks and then tug them down and off before slowly sliding my hands up his calves and up over his thighs. I study his straining erection, the tip of his cock poking out from the top of his black briefs.
I lick my lips, staring like a total creeper, but I can’t help it. I’m obsessed with him. I lean forward and lick the tip, tasting his salty flavor and reveling in the deep groan rumbling through him.
“I think it’s time I give my boyfriend his birthday present.”
I look up at him just in time to see his pupils widen considerably, and he gives me a quick, exuberant nod.
Despite being reminded of my past and having to literally stand right across from it tonight, today may end up just being the absolute best night of my life.
At least so far. Because Coach Noah Asher seems to keep making my life better and better every single day.
TWENTY-ONE
NOAH
I’m forty today.
And apparently, I have a boyfriend.
I felt like a total idiot asking him if that’s what he was, but I couldn’t take it anymore. He feels like mine, that’s for damn sure. And even though I know we have to keep what we have a secret, I want him to know he’s mine and I’m his.
And now, my boyfriend is doing his damnedest to drive me absolutely crazy. His tongue swiping over the head of my dick, sliding through my slit over and over.
“Chance,” I barely manage to croak out. My balls throb with the need to empty, and my cock jerks with every tease of his tongue. “Please.”
“Now, as much as I like to hear the great Coach Asher begging me . . .” He slowly stands up, and I glare at him as he teases me. “You don’t have to.”
He shoots a wink my way before removing his shirt and kicking off his shoes. He’s close enough to me that I can reach up and slide my hands over the ridges of his hard abdomen.
Ah, twenty-five.
I remember barely having to do a damn thing to keep abs almost as good as these. But I’m no slouch, and I know I look good for forty. Mostly because he reminds me every single chance he gets.
He turns away from me, and I’m not complaining as I get a good look at his round ass in his track pants. They hug him perfectly, but I want them off.
I try like hell to keep my hands at my sides. He’s in a teasing mood, and I guess I’ll let him do it for now.
The room is dark, except for the television illuminating the room, and the movie is up loud enough to hear the distraught campers while Friday the 13th plays in the background.
But my entire focus is on Chance.
His fingers tease the top of his pants, but he doesn’t pull them down. I stare at the muscles in his back as they flex. He slowly starts to pull them down enough to see the top of his underwear. The color is a bright red, and I immediately know he wore them just for me.
Kensley Red.
I have to grip the base of my cock through my briefs to control my desire when he lowers them even more and his creamy white ass is visible. I realize then they aren’t briefs but a jockstrap.
“Oh, holy fuck.”
I can sense him smirking even as he’s turned away from me. “You like it?”
I groan and grip my cock harder as I nod before realizing he can’t see me. “Show me more.”