Page 22 of For Pucking Real (The Seattle Vipers #4)

I remember the first time I met Tobias's father, how his eyes had raked over me with cold calculation, assessing every inch like I was something contaminating his pristine home.

The way his handshake was firm but brief, as if prolonged contact might somehow transfer something unwanted.

How he'd call Tobias ‘son’ with this hollow inflection that made the word sound like an obligation rather than an endearment.

I used to wonder if Tobias ever questioned whether he was loved fully, wholly.

If he ever looked in the mirror and saw someone his father only half-accepted.

Those nights in college when he'd wake up in cold sweats, never telling me the content of his nightmares, but I knew.

I knew they were filled with his father's disapproval, his cutting words, his conditional love.

Maybe that's why I didn't fight harder. Maybe I thought, if even his father couldn't love him right, what made me think I could?

Maybe I believed I was protecting him from another person who wouldn't know how to love him the way he deserved.

God, I was wrong. Tobias was never the problem.

The world around him just wasn't big enough to hold the kind of brilliance he was born with.

Including me. I was too small, too afraid, too caught up in my own fears to recognize that what we had was worth fighting every battle for.

Standing in this moment now, seeing the shadows his father cast still lingering in his eyes, I realize how much time we've lost because of other people's limitations.

"And now?" he asks, a challenge in his voice.

"I'm still scared," I admit, because he deserves nothing less than honesty. "But I'm more scared of never trying. Of never finding out what we could still be. Together. All of us."

He exhales hard and gestures with his hand between the two of us.

"Lia deserves better than this. She has enough to deal with.

A business, a child, a life she's built carefully.

You think she wants to be caught in the middle of whatever this is?

" There's protectiveness in his tone that makes me love him more, even as it complicates everything.

"I know," I say. "But maybe she doesn't have to choose. Maybe we don't either." The words feel radical, dangerous, and absolutely right as they leave my mouth.

My words hang in the air like the coming of a storm. Potential energy waiting to break.

His voice is low, barely audible. "You're saying this isn't just about her?"

"No," I say honestly, meeting his gaze head-on.

"It's about all of us. You. Me. Her. Chloe.

It won't be easy, people won't understand, there will be growing pains for sure, but maybe that's okay.

I'm not trying to fix the past. I just. .

.I want a chance to build something better.

Something true. If you want that too." The possibility of rejection looms large, but I've come too far to back down now.

Tobias looks at me for a long time, like he's trying to see past every scar I've ever given him.

His eyes search mine, looking for deception, for hesitation, for anything that might tell him this is just another false start.

Then slowly, he stands, faces me and steps between my spread thighs, a position so intimate it makes my breath catch.

"I hate how good you still make me feel," he says, his voice a rough whisper. "After everything. After all this time."

I smile, soft and unsteady. "I hate how long it's taken me to get here. To get back to you. To be brave enough to admit what I want."

Then he kisses me. It's not gentle. It's not soft.

It's teeth and heat and years of pain clawing their way out between us.

It's desperate and hungry and grounding all at once.

My hands explore his naked back, tracing the contours of muscle and bone that have changed yet remained familiar.

My fingers skim the waistband of his sweatpants as he nips and sucks at my mouth like a starving man.

I want to memorize every inch of what I once lost. The taste of him, minty toothpaste and something uniquely Tobias, floods my senses, bringing back a rush of memories so vivid they make me dizzy.

When we finally pull apart, our foreheads press together, breath mingling, our dicks rock hard between us. I want more. I need more. I need to feel him against me, to erase the years of distance with touch and taste and the press of skin against skin.

"This doesn't mean it's all forgiven," Tobias whispers, his hands gripping my shoulders tightly, like he's afraid I'll disappear again.

"I don't want forgiveness," I murmur back, brushing my thumb across his bruised cheekbone. "I want earned. I want to work for this, for you, for us. Every day."

He nods, eyes closed, before leaning down to press a sweet kiss on the corner of my mouth, the tenderness of it a stark contrast to the heat of moments before. "Then earn it," he whispers against my lips, the words both challenge and permission.

Tobias smiles and it’s as if no time has passed between us and I break, flipping us both until we're a tangle of limbs and brutal caresses.

Long lost kisses and whispered words of apology.

My hands relearn the planes of his body as his explore mine.

We're both different now, harder, more defined, marked by years of professional athletics and life's battles, but underneath, we're the same.

The same hearts that recognized each other all those years ago.

"I missed you," I whisper against his neck, the confession torn from somewhere deep inside me. "Every day, Toby. Every single day."

He responds by pulling me closer, his hands sliding under my hoodie, seeking skin. "Show me," he demands, voice rough with emotion and desire.

Crawling off his body, I lock eyes with him, silently asking for permission. When he nods his head, I hook my fingers into the waistband of his sweatpants and take them with me, revealing Tobias laid out before me, his cock hard, dripping, and calling for my eager mouth.

"I have a lot of making up to do," I say, my voice a husky whisper as I remove my clothes, his eyes never leaving mine. He strokes his dick from root to tip, the sight of it making my mouth water.

"Your mouth would make a great start," he teases, pointing his huge length in my direction, a smirk playing on his lips.

I smirk back, lifting a brow. "You say the word, baby, and I will pay my penance."

I climb back onto the bed. Tobias parts his thighs, inviting me in. I sit on my haunches, letting my eyes roam over his body, taking in every inch of him. He is a feast to behold, my Toby.

"Beautiful," I murmur before leaning forward and pulling his cock into my mouth.

His taste explodes on my tongue, salty and uniquely him.

I hum in pleasure, bobbing up and down, tasting his precum, the sound of his moans echoing in the room.

I don't let up, even though all I want to do is bury my dick inside him.

I don't know if he wants to take it that far tonight, so I will take whatever he has to give me.

"Dev," he pants out, his voice rough with desire. "Please, fuck me. I want to cum with you inside of me."

Pulling off his dick with a pop, I look up from my sitting position, my own dick screaming for release. I smile, already knowing how debauched I look with spit and precum coating my face.

"Lube and condoms?" I ask, pulling back to retrieve what we need.

"In the side pocket in my duffle by the closet," he says, pointing in the direction of the bag.

Jumping off the bed, I make my way to the bag, finding the box of condoms and lube exactly where he said they would be. I push away the thought of Tobias being with anyone else but me and now Lia, focusing instead on the present moment.

Making my way back to the bed, Tobias reaches for me and I cover his body with mine.

We kiss, tongues tangling, slowing down the hurried moment until we are both panting and frantic for release.

I make quick work of prepping him, one finger, two, scissoring him open.

By the time I'm pulling out of him, three fingers deep, he's begging for me.

"Please, Dev. Make me yours, again," he says, his voice a plea.

"You're already mine, Toby. I don't think you ever stopped," I say as I notch the tip of my dick to his entrance and press in slowly.

We both groan as he takes me inside of him, welcoming me home after years of being lost to one another. I don't wait, pulling out only to snap my hips forward, the sound of our bodies slapping together filling the room.

Tobias gasps, "Oh, shit. Devan. Yes. Fuck me."

I do. I thrust hard, fucking him relentlessly.

His moans and groans are music to my ears as I peg his sweet spot over and over again.

Taking his dick in my hand, I stroke him in time with my thrusts until he's shouting my name and spilling his cum over my hand.

I let myself go, fucking into him, sweat dripping down my back, making up for lost time, until I'm cumming inside of him.

I collapse on top of him, his cold cum sticking us together as I kiss him with hope and forgiveness on my lips. We stay that way for a long moment, allowing this moment to pass between us. This is only just the beginning. The beginning of more, after tonight.

Outside, the city buzzes and the night stretches on.

Cars pass below, people live their lives, unaware of the seismic shift happening in this quiet hotel room.

In here, as we come together for the first time in years, something between us starts to settle.

A wound begins to heal, slowly, tenderly, with each touch and whispered word.

We're not whole yet, but we're trying.

Together.

Maybe, just maybe, with Lia and Chloe, we could be something even better than what we lost. Not just recovered, but transformed into something stronger, more honest, more complete than before.