Page 26 of Full Split (Forbidden Goals #8)

He freezes momentarily, pushing onto his elbows to look down at me. “It’s usually the other way around.”

“What do you mean?”

“Mostly, guys tend to want me to do all the things to them.”

I rake my eyes down every inch of exposed arms, chest, and abs. How could anyone not want to devour him?

“Maybe you should stop dating assholes,” I huff, resuming my quest to run my tongue along the grooves of his abs. I stop to nuzzle into the thin line of hair that leads from his belly button. “I’m sorry for every asshole you had to deal with before me, but you’re done with them now.”

He gasps, and his abs flex. Then he laughs, and I make my way back up to kiss the source of the happy sound.

“The more you say things like that,” he says, “the weaker my knees get. I might just accidentally fall, and impale myself on?—"

I look down at him. “How could you fall on me if I’m the one on top?”

“For now maybe,” he grins, and my cock twitches at the implications. Niles must notice, or at least he takes the opportunity to tighten his legs around me and grip my ass. I drape myself over him and move with him, obeying his silent demands and ultimately dry-fucking us both into oblivion.

Holy fucking hell , Niles is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen when he comes.

He throws his head back and gasps, mouth and eyes open in shock, like he’s surprised that it happened.

And all of these crazy thoughts start bombarding me, thoughts that nearly come tumbling out of my mouth.

Like how I want to make him make that face every hour, on the hour, for the rest of our lives.

That I haven’t even come yet, and this is the most amazing thing I’ve ever experienced.

That I want to drink his arousal, lick up his cum like a fucking cat, and make it happen again, over and over again, until I finally satiate this impossible thirst that’s been rising inside of me.

That I want to be inside him. That I want him inside me.

The mental image of Niles on top of me, first fucking me, then riding me, is what sends me over the edge. I paint the inside of my underwear in so much cum, it’s bleeding through the fabric of my sleep pants before I’m even done.

So. Fucking. Good…

I don’t know if that’s what he wants, though. And what’s even worse, I’m so far out of my league, I don’t know what goes where or even how to ask. I just want to make him feel good, the way he does for me.

This is ridiculous. I’m almost forty, lying sweaty and half-naked in a falling down treehouse, making out and dry humping like a horny teenager. But, fuck, I feel alive. Buzzing like a live wire and ready to take on the world. After a shower. And maybe a nap.

“What are you thinking?” Niles asks, reaching to push a strand of hair off my forehead. I need a haircut.

I decide to go with honesty. “I was thinking that I’m almost forty and acting like a teenager, but also I never did this kind of thing back then. I don’t remember ever feeling like this before.”

“Like what?”

I stare up at the leaves overhead, hoping he can’t see how hot my cheeks are. “So fucking horny I might die.”

Niles snorts out a laugh.

“I’m being serious,” I say through my own laughter. “I’ve never had an experience where I felt like… Like I’m not pretending.”

“Pretending?”

“I don’t know.” I swallow. “Every relationship, I felt like I had to fake something. I’d feel attracted, but not—” I hesitate.

“Not driven. Not the way they wanted. I’d go along with it because it felt easier than explaining why I didn’t feel whatever it was they felt.

Sex was never a main motivator for me, even as a teenager.

I never had these overwhelming urges, I guess. ”

“So you had sex with your past partners even though you didn’t want to?”

Running a hand through my hair, I huff out a breath.

“That makes it sound weird or coercive, and it wasn’t like that.

I just… I felt bad that I didn’t feel the same way.

And I didn’t want to make them upset by thinking there was something wrong with them when it was me who was broken, so I just pretended. ”

Niles hums unhappily. “There’s a lot to unpack there, but let’s start with this. Do you think you might be asexual or demisexual?”

I shrug. “Maybe. Does it matter?”

He kisses my jaw. “Not really, if you’re happy where you are. Though it might help to know so you’re not beating yourself up about something that’s completely normal. There wasn’t anything wrong with you then, and there isn’t now. You have to know that.”

We’re getting way too close to an exposed nerve here, so instead of answering, I capture his mouth and try to distract us both with more kissing. Niles moans but pulls back.

“Wyatt, I mean it. There’s nothing broken about you.”

My chest clenches. Part of me wants to hear those words.

I could have used them long ago when I was really lost. Back when I was a teenager, feeling like a complete outsider because I wasn’t interested in sex the same way everyone else was.

Back when I got my girlfriend pregnant trying to prove that I had feelings for her.

Back when I thought that the idea of having sex with another person was abhorrent because I’d force myself to go through the motions whether I wanted to or not.

Sex became a chore. Something I had to do, and nothing I ever wanted to do.

To the point where even the thought of having sex would make me shut down internally.

Dating became a horror show, because the moment I even considered that the other person was nice or that I’d maybe like to see them again, my brain would go right to knowing I’d have to force myself to have sex, effectively ruining the date from the start.

As I got older, I did think maybe I was somewhere on the asexual spectrum, but what’s happening now, with Niles, is so different, I’m not sure what to think.

“I don’t know,” I say, for lack of anything better. “I just don’t know.”

“I do,” he says confidently. “And there’s nothing wrong with you.”

A scoff escapes me. “Yeah, right now everything’s going alright.

But what if this is some kind of fluke? What if I stop feeling this excitement at the mere thought of your name?

There’s a big part of me that worries that it won’t always be like this, and you’ll get tired of me.

I’m worried that I’m too old for you, and not just because you’re young and my son’s best friend.

Because there’s a very real chance that I won’t be enough for you. ”

“Wyatt,” he says sternly, climbing over me and looking down with a serious expression. “There’s nothing broken about you.”

My cock pulses just having Niles on top of me like this. He notices and grins. “See?”

“If anything, the fact that I’m so boned up all the time lately is proof that there is something very, very wrong with me.”

Niles shrugs. “I can’t help it. I’m sexy.”

He says it in a teasing way, but fuck if he’s not dead right.

“In all seriousness though, Wyatt. I need you to know something. Despite the fact that I do find you incredibly attractive on all levels and definitely have a permaboner for you?—”

I bark out a laugh. “ Permaboner ?”

He keeps going. “None of that is the important part of this. I realize that I’ve been around.

I’m not slut-shaming myself because that’s all bullshit.

But this is different. I’m not chasing you with the intent of hitting and quitting.

You’ve always been there for me, Wyatt. And I’ll always be here for you.

With you, if you’ll have me. Boner not required. ”

“You sure about that?” I grin, trying to play off the emotions that have built up inside me.

“Yes, I’m sure. I love you, Wyatt. You have to know that. Don’t you?”

I’ve always loved Niles. As a close friend of the family, as my son’s most dearest friend, as a really great guy that I’ve always felt lucky to get to know.

Could I love him in this way, too?

He doesn’t give me a chance to say anything, crashing his mouth to mine. We kiss until we’re both breathless and hard again.

He groans and rolls his hips. “If there ever comes a time you don’t want to do this, that this doesn’t come naturally or comfortably, it’s okay. I don’t ever want you to pretend with me. Okay?”

I swallow and nod.

“That being said… we might as well enjoy it when the mood does strike,” he says, and grinds down on me again.

“Well, in that case…” Holding his body close to mine, I flip us so he’s under me again. I kiss him down his neck and up again to bite his earlobe. “Can I touch you? Taste you?”

“Oh, Jesus. Fuck, yes.”

It’s hard not to chuckle at the way he hurries to untie the drawstring at the front of his sleep shorts, fumbling and cursing. I shoo his hands away and settle over him, calmly working on the knot even though I’m sure he can feel my heart threatening to escape its cage.

As I’m slowly loosening the ties, I look up at his impatient but smiling face. I have the weirdest urge to wink, but I’m not that confident, and this is my chance…

“What do you like?”

He looks confused.

“I want you to tell me how you like to be touched.”

God, I hope that’s coming across sexy and dominant and not like I’m an idiot who can’t figure out their partner’s cues.

“First let's get these fucking shorts off,” he says, practically sighing in relief when I untie the knot.

With my fingers on the waistband, I look up at him for another check that this is okay. He seems amused by this, but bites his lip and nods, lifting his hips so I can slide the cotton shorts down. It’s Niles that pushes his underwear down with the shorts, but I comply.

And then he’s fully naked, laid out in front of me like some kind of artist positioned him here, in this exact time and place, to steal my soul. The soft light and glistening sheen of sweat make every inch of his body look unreal.

“You’re perfect,” I whisper.

“What’s perfect about me?”