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Alex’s words vindicated me. Because he was right . And I knew he was right. And for some…strange reason—even after being single for a fucking year—it wasn’t until now, until this conversation that I realized I wasn’t sad about the break up anymore.

Wasn’t sad I wasn’t with Brendon.

Wasn’t even sad about catching him cheating, or losing out on eight years of my life.

I was simply…glad.

Glad he was gone.

Glad I was here.

Glad I could laugh about it with Alex—like it didn’t matter.

Like it was the past, because it was .

“Side note,” I interrupted Alex’s griping about Brendon.

“Jesus, you’re cute. Who says ‘side note’ like that when they want to?—”

“Did I ever tell you that I found out I was his side piece from his secretary?”

“What?” Alex blinked, surprised.

Catching a second wind, I nodded up and down—an oddly manic smile on my face as I relayed what had happened. “She told me not to forget to congratulate him on his engagement .”

“Jesus fuck.”

“We’d been together eight years.”

“George—”

“He was everything to me.” It didn’t even hurt to admit it. The words didn’t hurt. Thinking about him didn’t hurt. In fact—I kind of wanted to…wanted to laugh?

Oh my god.

How lovely was that?

“I’m so sorry,” Alex’s hand connected with my elbow, giving it a squeeze. But I didn’t need his comfort. I was sick and tired of being hung up on a man who had never valued me the way I deserved. And even more so, I was fucking exhausted of being stuck within the box he’d built for me.

Of feeling like not enough—when I very much fucking was.

I was enough for Alex, at least.

Tonight had been a night full of firsts.

Of discovery.

And I didn’t feel like the same George I’d been when I’d fought my way through a rainstorm into the airport a few short days ago. I felt…bolder. Stronger. More confident. Alex had demonstrated through every gentle action the way I should’ve been treated all along—and I’d always been a fast learner.

Being a sub didn’t make me powerless.

I didn’t have to make myself smaller.

I could be more unapologetically George than ever before. I could let go. I could trust in the bedroom—and trust outside of it, if I let myself. Sex could be fun and explorative. Kinks weren’t hard lines etched on asphalt but wiggles through sand. Relationships were push and pull.

And love—like Alex had said—could be revenge.

But that wasn’t what this was.

My growing feelings for Alex were not born of a need to get back at Brendon for what he’d done. They were pure and sweet and new—and frightening, yes. But exciting, too. And even though this had an end date, I didn’t think I’d ever regret them.

I couldn’t.

“I’m not sorry it happened,” the words slipped out before I could stop them. “I’m not. I’m grateful, honestly. Because if Brendon hadn’t cheated, I wouldn’t be here with you. And I am just…”

“Just…?” Alex’s voice was oddly hopeful.

“I am so very glad I met you, Alex James.”

“Me fucking too,” Alex crushed me into a hug that felt like it lasted a century. He smelled delicious. Sweaty again, despite the fact we’d showered. He was, as always, annoyingly hot—given the summer heat and how muggy the inside of the sleeping bag could get when I wasn’t icy with anxiety. I didn’t mind.

Alex pressed my face into his chest, holding me snug and safe there—exactly like he had when we’d had sex. Only, it felt more intimate now, somehow, without lust to cloud the motion. His fingers carded through my hair, the friendship bracelet I’d made him tickling the nape of my neck where his watch usually was.

Right.

His watch.

I was supposed to be telling him a story to distract him! Fuck.

“My ex was a cheating prick, too,” Alex said before I could open my mouth and continue. “Worse than that though, he was a liar . Always wanted me to feel inferior because he was born into money when I wasn’t.” Huh. Alex had never spoken this much about himself, so I consciously tried not to spook him. “He’d take me to the country clubs. Whipped his name around like it was a dick. Undermined me when we hung out with his friends—made it seem like my family’s wealth was lesser somehow, just because it wasn’t old money. He acted like he wanted me to fit in inside the world I’d been thrust into, like he was helping. ”

I’d been careful not to form assumptions around Alex and his wealth. Thought it’d been there, right in my face, since the day we’d met and he’d been wearing Armani.

“We were middle class for most of my childhood,” Alex admitted. “And I thought he was a godsend. Trying to fucking Yoda me or some shit, you know? Help me fit in. So I could help my dad. Make more connections, further the business, all that. Everything I’ve ever done reflects on him. I just…I wanted to make him proud. My ex used that to manipulate me.”

I nodded and Alex’s fingers stroked behind my ears. Which was terribly distracting. His heart didn’t skip a beat, didn’t quicken, nothing. Despite the rawness of his words, he wasn’t angry. I could only hope this meant he was past his ex’s transgressions the same way I’d realized I was past Brendon’s.

“He was older than me,” Alex admitted. “I trusted him to know better and took some seriously horrible advice. A lot of it, actually.”

“Like what?”

“Plastic surgery. Eating disorders because he thought I needed to look different to fit in. Bad investments. You name it.” Alex sighed. “I used to see a therapist because of all of that. The plastic surgery was luckily minor stuff. Nose job? Yep.” He gestured at the bump on his nose. “Not that that lasted. Fucking puck to the face got me one time, erased all that work.” Alex frowned. “I got chin lipo at one point because he told me it was starting to look like I had a double chin. Nothing major.”

Sounded major to me if his boyfriend was encouraging him to get surgery to alter his appearance. That had to have done a number on his self-esteem.

“Didn’t help that my mom wasn’t around,” Alex admitted. “Or that my dad was so busy trying to keep the wealth he’d accumulated to realize I was drowning.”

He must’ve felt…so alone.

“For a while, I was a hot mess,” Alex whispered, quiet and tremulous—like he’d never said this out loud to anyone else before. Like we were sharing secrets, like kids at a sleepover. “June thought he was a total dick, but even she didn’t know half the shit I did because he encouraged me to. I played it off like losing weight was what caused the changes when it wasn’t true. Avoided her when I was recovering so she wouldn’t see the bruises.” Alex’s shrug jostled me, and he murmured an apology. “Anyway—all of this to say that the whole time we were together he made me feel like his wealth was the reason I should listen to him.”

“Right.”

“But then…a year into our relationship he began asking for favors. Told me his dad cut him off—and like an idiot, I listened.”

“Oh no.”

“I found out six months later, when he used my credit card to buy himself a new car, that his family was fucking broke.” Alex released a breath, nuzzling into my hair. “He was using me. The whole time. It was a giant game. And I wasn’t the only guy he had on the hook, either. Me and…I dunno, three others were funding the lavish lifestyle he could no longer afford.”

“That’s fucked up.” I could hardly wrap my mind around any of that. I’d never had the kind of money that meant plastic surgery, or sports cars, or country clubs. But that didn’t mean that I couldn’t empathize. Or that my heart didn’t hurt for how young and lost and betrayed Alex must have felt. “I…am…Christ. I don’t even know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Alex promised, stroking his fingers behind my ears again. “I’m over it now. At least—for the most part.”

He gathered his thoughts. “I dated after that. Mostly women. A few men. I stopped dating socialites. But that was no better. I was a wallet to them, too. And every time I…” Alex trailed off, eyes unseeing. “Every time I thought I was getting somewhere—they’d get this…this look on their face.”

“A look?”

“I’d do something. Say something, be too loud. Contact them too soon. Ask for too much. And they’d look at me like I was…freaking them out.” Al ex laughed, but the sound was brittle. “I felt like such a creep.” I opened my mouth to tell him he wasn’t, but he kept speaking. “I wanted to get married. Have kids. Early. That was what I wanted. But after a while, when I realized that the only way to keep my partners happy was to wall myself off, or give them my wallet, it all felt so…pointless.”

The owl outside hooted again. I jumped, and Alex made a quiet, soothing sound.

“I stopped dating midway through my twenties. I figured…sleeping with people was easier than worrying they were going to manipulate me. Or that I’d scare them off by being myself.” His smile was sad, eyes far, far away. “I’m kinda a jaded asshole—assuming everyone in the world will hurt me, but I do.”

“I don’t think you’re an asshole.”

“That’s because you’re different,” Alex admitted. “I can be myself with you. You don’t…you don’t look at me…that way.” He used his grip on my hair to tug my head back so he could meet my gaze. “You wear your heart on your sleeve, Georgie. You’re so colorful, and expressive, and…and genuine . And for some, completely un-fucking-fathomable reason you’re not freaked out by me.”

My cheeks flushed, gaze darting away—his words too much for my already frayed nerves to handle. “You’ve been nothing but wonderful,” I said softly. “I hate that those people…those people made you feel like?—”

“Too much?” Alex sighed. “And not enough, at the same time.”

“I…can relate to that.” I had to look at him then, so he could see I meant that. “Maybe too well.”

“I hate that,” Alex replied. “I hate that anyone could make you feel that way.”

“The feeling is mutual,” I said. “Mom says we’re…two peas in a pod.”

“That’s accurate,” Alex’s voice quaked with joy. “In some ways.” His eyes danced, lips impossibly soft as he smiled at me, his earlier unease forgotten. “I’m sneakier than you, though. I don’t think you have a manipulative bone in your body,” Alex added, his lips pressing quick and soft to mine. “You know what’s amazing? I don’t need my guard up around you—in fact, I don’t think I even have a guard at all when you’re around.”

My eyes burned.

That was…

Fuck.

That was the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to me.

“I can relax and be myself. You push me—I poke you. We laugh. We fuck. We start it all over again. There isn’t a moment when you’re near that I don’t enjoy.”

“A-Alex.” If he didn’t stop, I was going to cry.

“Even now,” he continued, despite my protests. “We both just admitted some seriously fucked up shit and I’m smiling .” I glanced at his mouth—unsurprised to find that he was, in fact, smiling. “I lost my watch, the most—the most important thing I own—and I’m smiling . And it’s not because I feel like I need to smile to placate you, or because it’s easier to pretend like it doesn’t hurt. I’m smiling because even talking about sad, awful, horrible things with you is nice. Do you…do you realize how fucking weird that is?”

“It is weird,” I agreed, because it was. A giggle escaped—which was better than crying, so hey, I wasn’t complaining.

“It’s so weird.” Alex pecked me on the lips again, and my mouth tingled. My everything tingled. “The weirdest thing ever. I’m in my thirties, man. I thought I was done with this juvenile crush bullshit.”

“You have a crush on me?” I teased, butterflies swarming in my belly. The look Alex gave me was flat as hell. “How embarrassing for you.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Alex laughed, smooching me longer this time. Longer, wetter, needier. He yanked my head in, his other hand finding my waist. He pressed our torsos together, his heart beating against mine as he licked behind my teeth with a groan. “Fuck—” Alex murmured between kisses. “You’re so fucking cute sometimes, I can’t stand it.”

“I have a—” I whimpered as his hand sank lower, grabbing my ass. “On you.” My freshly fucked hole twinged. “Too.”

Alex’s voice was sugary sweet. “That’s no surprise?— ”

“Asshole,” I countered, lapping at his bottom lip, begging entrance. He let me in, allowing me to play dominant for a minute or two before he chased me back into my mouth. His tongue was hot and demanding, curling and swiping over mine as he released my waist. He fumbled for the zipper, yanking the sleeping bag open to give us more room. When we were free of it, he hauled me up and over onto his lap.

“We’re going to wake people up—” I protested, straddling his lap, his hard dick poking insistently at my ass.

“Not if you’re quiet.”

It was a sound enough argument I didn’t protest, not when he stuck his tongue back in my mouth. Not when he wrestled my pants off, and then his. And not when the slap of his cock met my ass cheek.

“Lube—” I mumbled.

With a growl, Alex rolled me over onto my back, barely pausing his kisses as he fumbled to the side for the abandoned bottle of lube. When he found it he made a triumphant noise against my mouth. The faint click of the lid slipping open felt almost as lewd as the wet sounds our mouths kept making.

The push and pull was fucking amazing. It felt like I was melting every time his tongue wriggled next to mine.

“Need you,” Alex gasped out between kisses. “C’mon.” It was a plea as much as it was a command. I was back in his lap only a few seconds later, the sleeping bag pooling around his legs. Alex made quick work of slicking up his cock, and when he reached for my ass, eager to finger me open, I batted his hand away.

I was still loose.

And besides, I wanted to feel a bit of the burn.

“George,” he warned. “I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“You won’t?—”

“ George .” There was no arguing with that tone. Or the look he gave me. I conceded defeat with a whimper, my cock dripping onto his t-shirts—the one he was wearing, and the one I’d borrowed. It was so hard it hurt, jerking between my thighs as Alex slicked up his fingers and shoved them home.

He was impatient too—but apparently less than I was.

What a trip.

I’d never been the more impatient person during sex before.

“So precious,” Alex cooed, slipping deep inside, his index finger tapping at my prostate. Stars burst behind my lids and I whimpered, head falling back. “I know it feels good, sweetheart,” Alex purred, sliding his middle finger in along with it. The stretch burned, despite my earlier proclamation that I was ready for something bigger. “But you need to be quiet. Remember? Cover your mouth, okay? You can?—”

I jerked my borrowed shirt up, cotton catching between my teeth as I shoved it into my mouth as a makeshift gag.

“Holy fuck,” Alex said, rubbing my prostate liberally.

“How’s that?” I asked, voice barely intelligible.

“Fuck yeah. That’s…yeah.” His hips jerked up like he couldn’t help himself. His chest was heaving, testing the fabric of his t-shirt with every great breath as sweat beaded at his temple. Dark hair spilled along his pillow, that same curl—the infuriating one—stuck to his forehead.

Apparently, being quiet only extended to me. Because though Alex’s voice was low and sweet, he was still running his mouth.

“Look at those pretty titties,” Alex groaned, his free hand sliding up to cup one of my pretty much nonexistent pecs. They were tiny. I didn’t exactly spend time trying to enhance them. And my natural build was slender. Alex didn’t seem to mind. He squeezed my chest inward, pinching my nipples between his fingers like he was trying to create cleavage.

“Alex,” my whimper was muffled enough to hardly be a word at all, but he seemed to get the picture. His fingers stopped spreading me open, dropping down to slick his cock up again, before notching the head against my hole and sliding home .

We groaned in tandem.

Felt like I was transported to another dimension entirely as my eyes rolled back and his thick, long dick filled me up. He was so fucking big. Big hairy thighs prickling against my inner thighs as I sank down. Big cock testing the limits of my hole. Big chest, bouncing with every greedy breath.

If anyone had tits it was Alex, not me.

All muscular and built with pecs that looked particularly squishable. I reached down, intrusive thoughts winning as my hands framed his chest and gave it a tight grope. He flexed into my grip, which only made the muscle harden. Not like breasts at all—but definitely attractive.

“Naughty, Georgie,” Alex groaned, snapping his hips up into me and making me whine. “Touching my tits without permission.” I gave his chest another squeeze, and he grinned, wide and unrepentant. “Again?” Alex clucked disparagingly. “Bad, bad boy.”

He didn’t sound like he thought I was being bad.

Not at all.

So I didn’t stop.

Not even when Alex’s hand lightly slapped my ass cheek. “Naughty boys get punished,” Alex promised. The sting made me jolt. Alex waited, hand hovering as he watched my expression. “Color?”

I couldn’t exactly answer him with my mouth full of soggy t-shirt. I glared at him and mumbled a muffled “green”.

“Squeeze your ass three times if you want me to smack you again.” Alex looked incredibly proud of himself for that one. I whined. Because that wasn’t fair either—and I just…ugh. I wanted it. I wanted it so fucking bad, even if it was embarrassing to admit.

I did as requested and after every tight clench, Alex’s lashes fluttered.

After the third deliberate clutch, his hips pulled back and snapped in, dark brow furrowed. “Shot myself in the foot with that one,” Alex admitted hoarsely. “Jesus Christ. One day I’m gonna make you do that till I come. Gonna make you sit on my dick and clench your little ass over and over and over. Watch you get frustrated—fuck.”

I made a muffled sound in protest, and Alex’s grin came back. “Right. Where was I—? Oh. Yes. I was punishing you.” I glared at him, not impressed. My hips wiggled, trying to force more friction and Alex’s smirk grew wicked. “Slut,” he cooed, slapping my ass cheek again, harder this time. “Can’t sit still, can you? You wanna be fucked so bad. Wanna touch, and be touched—want that sweet cunt stuffed full.” Another smack. More stars danced behind my lids.

God, that was good.

And even though this was technically a punishment , it certainly didn’t feel like it. It was fun. All of this was fun. Everything with Alex was.

My dick jerked, precum slipping from the tip and decorating Alex’s stomach.

“Making such a mess,” Alex murmured disapprovingly. “What am I going to do with you?”

I ground my hips down, and Alex pulled his back, making me chase friction. “What?” he said when I growled at him around the t-shirt. “Did you want something?” He snapped his pelvis up, and I sobbed. “That, maybe?”

Christ, he was driving me out of my mind.

I was at the end of my rope.

So far gone by that point that I barely noticed he’d yanked the spit-soaked t-shirt free. And that I was babbling. Crying, more accurately, tears streaming down my cheeks. “Please, please, please, please, please?—”

“Shhh, shhh.” When I could force my eyes open Alex’s gaze was adoring. His tone was as warm as his expression. Fingers swiped through my tears, comforting me—and then embarrassing me when he brought his tear-soaked fingers to his lips and lapped at them. “It’s okay,” he promised. “I’ve got you. Quiet, baby. Just?—”

Alex pushed the t-shirt back into my mouth.

And then he was forcing my legs open wider, directing my hands to his chest for balance, and his hips were rutting into me with a brutal pace that had me half blind with lust. Squeezing, squeezing, in and out, the wet slapping sounds filled the small space.

We were so lucky it was late, and that everyone was asleep.

Otherwise—

Fuck.

George the slut, getting his hole pounded at ass o’clock during Roderick’s wedding trip. Mom would throw a party. Hell. My whole family would. I’d never survive the embarrassment. It was bad enough they all knew about the night on the hill.

“I know you can take it,” Alex grunted, fingers biting bruises into my hips as he shuffled so his feet were planted wider and he could really fuck into me. I felt every thrust from head to toe, lashes fluttering and wet from tears, my belly tensing, my toes curling as the thick crown of Alex’s dick punched in and out of my well-fucked hole.

“Take it—” Alex growled. He was getting close if the way his teeth were gritted was any indication. Or the way he was shaking, his thrusts getting faster and less purposeful. Like he was using every last ounce of energy he had to keep himself going until I finished.

When his hand found my cock, he got his wish.

Scratchy palm, hot and large—I lost the battle with my will, spilling all over him as I drooled into his t-shirt.

“Fuck yes,” Alex groaned, jerking into me faster, faster, one-two-three times. “Squirt for me?—”

And then he was coming too, filling me up with liquid heat, and several more, slightly less violent jerks of his hips.

“You’re so good,” he’d murmured as he’d plucked the fabric out of my mouth and pressed a dozen soothing kisses against my raw lips. He’d lapped at them in appreciation. “Such a pretty, red mouth,” he cooed, before moving on to the rest of my body .

By the time we’d both wound down I was exhausted—and yet somewhat wired up. Alex rearranged us so that we were laying back-to-chest on our sides atop the mattress, and his cock could soften inside my hole. He clutched me from behind, his hands rubbing anywhere and everywhere.

He worshipped me in a way that made me feel both powerful and small.

Small, because he was bigger.

Protected.

Like I didn’t need to worry about anything at all.

Not when Alex was around.

Powerful because I had this big, capable, wonderful man to dote on me—at least…for a few more days.

“We need to get you cleaned up,” Alex sighed after a while. He sounded drugged, almost. Out of his mind with exhaustion. “Your ass is?—”

“That’s the first time you’ve ever called it that.” I was bullshitting. I genuinely couldn’t remember if he had before.

Alex snorted. “Fine. Sorry. My bad, King George. Your cunt —” I shivered, the grin in his voice not helping with my arousal at the use of the word. “Is full of my cum. We should probably take care of that.”

Dried cum in my asshole was not my favorite thing.

Not even in my top ten.

“I could lick it out of you.” I didn’t have to see Alex’s face to know his eyebrows were wiggling.

“Do what you must,” I agreed, fucked out and exhausted.

“Drama queen,” Alex said affectionately as he carefully pulled out and pushed me onto my belly. I lifted my leg obediently, showing off my leaking hole. Alex groaned, descending down my body immediately, heading right for my entrance. He wasted no time, eating his own cum out of my hole like it was an Olympic sport and he was aiming for gold.

When he came back up, I felt thoroughly debauched. Sore. Sticky. Aching. Empty .

Alex crowded against my back, one thick arm bracing most of his weight while the other worked me open again.

“I swear, I should take Viagra or some shit just so I can stay hard in your cunt all day.” Alex murmured against my ear. “It’s like my favorite place. I’d take a vacation there if I could.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“You love it.”

“I do.” The words escaped and I didn’t stop them. Not when it was true. I did love it. Just like I loved?—

George.

Not right now.

Not. Right. Now.

You will break.

You will break.

Don’t—

Alex kissed along the shell of my ear, allowing me a minute with my ass full before he slipped his fingers free and began caressing and kissing and praising me all over again. He liked this part as much as I did if his thoroughness with it was any indication.

He stayed at my side, fingers skimming my body, staring at me like he always loved to do.

“I eat…lunch in the stairwell,” I murmured sleepily against my pillow as Alex’s fingers danced up my forearm and began to play with my friendship bracelet. I had failed my mission—to finish his bedtime story before we fucked. And it wasn’t till I was half asleep that I even realized.

“You…oh!” He seemed to realize what I was doing pretty quickly, which was good. Because I was far too tired to explain.

“And then I head back to my office. After lunch I do most of my design work.”

“Designs? ”

“Marketing,” I said. “Graphics.” Too tired to find the words, I hoped he understood. “Ad campaigns.”

“And after work?”

“I ride the subway home and pick up take-out. Mondays are Indian food.”

“Tikka Masala?”

“Butter chicken.” I yawned. “With Naan bread. Garlic. Missy likes…spicy—so I get her that. She likes me to pick her entrée at random. I’m more…predictable.”

“My favorite flavor,” Alex said. I wasn’t sure if he was calling my predictability his favorite flavor, or the food, but either way I supposed it didn’t matter.

“Then I spend…” another yawn, “the rest of the night eating with her and watching Planet Earth so I know what to look out for…And I wind down by reading books from my…collection.”

“Collection?”

“My BL manga collection.”

“What’s a Bee-Ehl? Or a mon-guh?”

“Boys Love. Gay manga. Gay comics from Japan? I have…a lot. It’s an addiction. I started with one bookshelf and now I have…three? I’d get more if it wouldn’t totally overtake my apartment. They practically fill my entire closet.”

“They must be good, huh? I mostly listen to audiobooks. I’ve never thought of reading comics,” Alex hummed thoughtfully.

“Really good.” My eyes were too heavy to keep open. Judging by how slow Alex’s replies were becoming, he was in the same boat. He was leaning heavier against me now, his arm slung low over my waist, anchoring us both. “One day, I want a library with all of them.”

“I’d build you one,” Alex was quick to offer, pecking the back of my neck.

“With a ladder,” I added, even slower. “Like Belle from Beauty and the Beast. ”

“I got you. A ladder. So you can reach the top.”

“Mhm. Then I go to bed…and I’ll start it all over again on Tuesday.” There. I’d done it. I’d done what I’d promised. Alex had received his bedtime story .

And I…well.

I wasn’t sure how to describe what I’d gotten.

But watch, or not, as we fell asleep together, sated and happy, I could only come to the conclusion that what I’d received was pretty damn good.