Page 24 of Gin & Sin (Last Call #2)

TWENTY-FOUR

KIT

We’ve been lying together for nearly an hour, our bodies itchy with dried cum and sticky from body heat, and I wouldn’t change a damn thing. Stewart’s body was made to be tucked up against mine. He’s been asleep for a little bit now, his soft breathing soothing me like a favorite song. I’d say it’s been a long time since I felt this way, but I think it’s actually been forever.

I want to talk to the guys about how I’m feeling, but I also kind of don’t. Maybe I’m afraid to face these strange new urges when it comes to the man in my arms. Or… maybe I need to face my real concern. Stewart is brand new to the whole dating men game. He wants to explore and I want to support him, but the thought of him meeting up with some loser who just wants a piece of ass makes my skin crawl.

I guess if I’m being honest with myself, I know the possibility of him meeting a great guy is out there too. The love of his life could be waiting for him. Someone who would treat him like the special guy he is. I should want that for him. He deserves it.

It’s just that I can’t imagine not having him in my bed ever again. No more sweet whimpers or surprising dirty talk. No more syrupy slow kisses as I unravel him inch by glorious inch. My chest tightens unpleasantly. It’s selfish of me to hoard him, but that truth does shit to change my mind.

Stewart stirs in my arm, rubbing his nose in the crevice of my pecs like a cat seeking scritches. I kiss the top of his head, holding him just a little closer, wondering if this would even be happening if it weren’t for nature’s intervention.

“What time is it?” he whispers, his voice muffled by my chest.

“I have no idea.”

“Mmm.” He stretches against me. “Good. This is freedom. Not tethered to a schedule and a clock. What a joy.”

“I agree. You want to get up and take a shower?”

“Noooo.” He cuddles closer to me, arousing interest in me again. “So cozy.”

“Me too.” I drag my fingers up and down his back in lazy circles. “I’ve never been snowed in with someone before.”

He groans, turning slightly so he’s facing up. “The last time I was snowed in it was with my ex-wife and it was awful. We were barely on speaking terms at that point. We basically stayed in separate rooms for the duration, and I distracted myself by grading assignments and semester planning.”

I squeeze the back of his neck. “This is better, I hope.”

Stewart smiles. “Miles better.”

“Are you hungry?”

“Not at all.”

“Then I have an idea.”

“Listening.”

“How about a leisurely bath for two? Then, if you’re up for it, we can get dirty again.”

His breath hitches and he nods, his eyes filling with need and lust. “Yes. Please.”

I kiss his nose. “Stay here. I’ll go run the bath.”

“Okay.”

Forcing myself out of bed is harder than I thought, but the idea of washing his body is good motivation. In the bathroom, I start the bath, testing the water temp before taking a quick piss. I spot the tray of French bath products Lowen insisted on stocking in everyone’s bathrooms and say a silent thanks to our resident diva. After a quick sniff of the bubble bath, I pour in a decent amount, then walk back to the bedroom where Stewart is sprawled out on my bed. The bedding is tangled around his legs, but pulled down enough to show his soft cock and equally soft belly. Fuck, he’s gorgeous.

“Ready, babe?”

He lifts his head and smiles, his hair mussed and eyes relaxed. “I am.” Stewart climbs out of bed and joins me, grabbing my hand when he reaches me. “It’s gonna be hard to go back to real life when this is over.”

I nod, agreeing more than he even knows. “Let’s enjoy it while it lasts, huh?”

“Absolutely.”

We sink into the bath together, facing each other. Another genius design decision by Low.

“This is like a luxurious hotel bathroom. Not that I’ve ever been in one.”

I chuckle. “Lowen’s doing. Gotta admit, it’s working out nicely right now.”

“Definitely.”

Stewart drags his hand through the suds. “Did you ever think about kids?”

His question startles me for a second, and I choke on a laugh. “No. I’m not even kind of dad material. You?”

“We didn’t want them, and then she did. We tried for a few years before seeking medical advice when it wasn’t happening.” His gaze moves to the ceiling as he sinks a little deeper into the water, sliding his legs to either side of me. “We went through all the tests and found out she wasn’t ovulating. It was a hormone imbalance. She went on medicine for about six months, but it made her miserable to the point that sex wasn’t an option. We talked it over and decided to accept that it just wasn’t going to happen. It’s terrible to admit, but I was relieved.”

I nod. “You didn’t really want it. You just wanted to make her happy.”

“Yes. I wanted her to have something to focus on. Our marriage was still pretty good back then, but I think it was the first tear in the fabric, you know?”

“She didn’t really accept it?”

“No. She internalized it. Like she was flawed. Against my better judgment, I told her we could foster or adopt or even look into surrogacy, but she didn’t want that. She wanted something she could never have. Four years later, she started having a lot of pain and was diagnosed with endometriosis. It was so advanced that she opted for a hysterectomy. She was never the same after that.”

“I can’t imagine what that feels like. To want something that it seems other people get easily.”

“Right. She went to therapy and that did seem to help. She threw herself into her nieces and nephews and she volunteered with Big Sisters.”

I rub his calf. “You sound sad.”

“She was at her lowest and I was relieved. I didn’t think we’d make great parents. We were both so career focused. It’s only looking back that I realize she wanted the baby because there was no substance in our marriage anymore. She wanted something to nurture and to feel needed because I wasn’t that for her. I was a man who lived in her house and sometimes ate dinner with her or watched a movie, but the passion, the shared interests, the friendship had broken down.”

I lift his leg from the water and massage his foot. “Then it was a good thing you didn’t bring a child into that.”

“I know. She knows it too. During an argument one night she told me she was glad we never had a child because…” He pauses as a sad smile spreads across his mouth. “Because she wouldn’t be tied to me the rest of her life.”

“I’m sorry. That had to hurt to hear.”

“It did. I often wondered when I turned into someone she hated. I never cheated, never said an unkind word, never denied her anything she wanted, but somehow I was still a piece of shit she couldn’t wait to get away from.”

“People can be cruel when they’re in pain.”

He nods, exhaling slowly. “It doesn’t make the cut less deep.”

“No, it doesn’t.” I kiss the bottom of his foot. “You mentioned before that she got a job somewhere else?”

“Yeah.” A fresh smile graces his face. “Thank fuck. It was the break we needed to finally pull the plug. Stop with the therapy and the arguments and the tension and just accept that we were done.”

“Does she know?”

“About my sexuality?”

I nod, working my fingers up his leg again.

“No. I don’t think she ever will. Telling her would probably hurt her. Besides, it’s not like we’re friends. Part of me hopes we can be again someday, but I doubt it. She’s a good person, and for most of my life, she was my best friend. I miss that part.”

“Maybe she does too, and with time, you can reconnect.”

“Maybe.” An interesting expression passes across his face. “Someday I might be in a relationship with a man. I might have to come out, and that’s exciting and nerve racking.”

“In your own time.”

“I know.”

“Are your parents alive?”

Stewart nods. “Yes, but elderly. They live in Florida with my sister nearby. Yours are too, right?”

“Yep. Dad has heart problems though. Mom is tough. She’s the strongest person I know.”

“Do you have siblings?”

“No. Only child. Probably explains a lot.”

Stewart chuckles. “You’re doing fine.”

“I managed to get you in my bedroom, so I must be.”

He blushes as he shakes his head. “You’re so good for my ego.”

“It’s not just sunshine, Stewart. You’re not only gorgeous, you’re an amazing person. You’re interesting. Smart. Sexy. Any guy or woman would be lucky to lock you down.”

His brow creases as he scratches his thick stubble. He huffs but forces a smile. “Thanks.”

“What did I say that triggered all that?”

Stewart shifts his gaze to me, twisting his lips before nodding in resignation. “I had the thought earlier after what we did…” He pauses, laughing nervously and squirming in the water.

“You can tell me anything, babe.”

“I know. It’s more about saying it aloud to myself. I want to. It’s just taking a second.”

“Take your time.”

Stewart drags his hands through the steamy water, then blows out a slow breath. “It dawned on me that I might be a victim of CompHet.”

“I don’t know what that is.”

“Compulsory Heterosexuality. Basically, it’s societal conditioning to default to straight and either ignore or simply not notice the signs that it might not be true. It’s common in older generations. We simply didn’t have the language or the examples to see ourselves. I was so young when I met my ex- wife. I barely even dated anyone else. It took so long for me to realize that the way I felt about men wasn’t straight.”

“Oh yeah. I didn’t know that was the term, but I had a lesbian friend who didn’t know until she was in her thirties because she just did what all the other women in her life did.”

“It’s more common than we realize. You convince yourself that your sex drive isn’t as high as your peers’, or that you’re not driven by physical lust. You tell yourself that the way you admire the muscled thighs of the guy jogging past you is a desire to be in better shape. When your dick gets hard when you look at a man, you tell yourself it’s because you haven’t had sex in a while. It’s like your brain refuses to see the obvious.”

“But you’re past that now. You’ve accepted your bisexuality. Or are you having doubts?”

“Not the doubts you might be thinking of. I’ve never had sex as intense and urgent and…” He pauses as his breath hitches. “Satisfying. It was so deeply satisfying. Everything about sex with you has been on a different level. It’s so much more than I’ve ever experienced. Even the way I feel when I think about you or look at you is different. It’s like feeling attraction and true desire for the first time.”

“Are you saying…” I stop myself short when Stewart nods.

“It’s what I was saying before. I think I might not be bisexual at all. I think I might be gay, and I didn’t know. I didn’t know sex and attraction could feel like this, and it’s…” He shakes his head, slowly smiling. “It’s a marvel, Kit. I thought I was broken. I had sex because she wanted to. It was always because she wanted to. I didn’t hate it. It wasn’t that. It was just pleasant. Sweet. It felt nice to come.” He swallows hard, sitting up straighter and grabbing my hand. “But I didn’t crave it. I didn’t think about it when it was over. I didn’t see random women on the street or at work or on TV and lust after them. I never felt that until I accepted my attraction to men. Until I noticed how admiring a man’s body lit me up. How my dick finally got hard just from thinking about sex with men.”

“Aw, babe. That’s amazing.”

“Then I met you. I got my hands on a real live man and my center of gravity shifted. I think about sex all the time. I think about you and the way your cock feels on my tongue and now how it feels inside of me. I remember the way you kiss me and the way your strong hands touch me. I want sex. It’s so different. I don’t look at women, now or ever, the way I look at men.”

“How does it make you feel? Does it feel right saying gay versus bisexual?”

He tilts his head as if thinking about my question. His eyelids flutter as his eyes turn glassy. I sit up, holding his knees to scoot closer.

“Hey. It’s okay. I’m here for you.”

“I know.” He clears his throat. “I tell my students all the time that the labels society wants to assign don’t matter, and the only thing that does is what you feel is right. For some that means a label isn’t important. Or it’s fluid. For others, it’s important for their identity to align with something.”

“Yeah. I get that.”

“I’m realizing right now, right this second, that bisexual didn’t feel quite right. Gay feels…” His eyes flicker up to mine. “It feels amazing, Kit. It feels like a perfectly tailored suit made just for me.” He wipes at his damp eyes. “Wow.”

I cup his face, now fully seated between his legs. “I’m happy for you. I can’t imagine how good you feel right now.”

“I can’t even describe it. I’ve never been chained or imprisoned, but maybe it’s like that and then being set free.”

Leaning in, I kiss him hard, then press our foreheads together. “It’s fucking awesome witnessing this. You deserve it.”

“I think I wanted to be bi. Maybe it felt safer or explained why I married a woman.”

“You loved her. That’s a good reason.”

“I did love her, yes. I loved her so much I ignored a huge part of who I was. I denied her a man who could be all she wanted.”

“No, Stewart. I won’t let you do that to yourself. You fell in love with a person, your best friend, and you did your best. Lots of marriages don’t make it, sexuality aside, and the fact that you guys were together as long as you were is a testament to that love.”

“Yeah. You’re right. Her life could’ve been different, but maybe not better.”

“Exactly. You loved her as hard as you could. Hell, you even agreed to something you didn’t want to make her happy.”

He nods. “I guess I just feel guilty.”

“How could you accept what you didn’t even know? Come on, Professor. You know better.”

He laughs softly. “You’re right. I do. I’m well versed in the intricacies of sex and gender and sexuality.”

“So now it’s about forgiveness and acceptance. You can’t change the past. All you have is now.”

Stewart gazes at me for a second before launching himself at me and attacking my mouth. As he climbs onto my lap, water splashes over the side, and I laugh in surprise but return his eager kiss, gripping his ass cheeks as our cocks brush together under the bubbles.

My hands move into his hair, twisting as I deepen the kiss. Fuck, this man drives me crazy. There are so many things I still want to do with him. So many thoughts he makes me think.

“Hey, gorgeous,” I whisper against his lips. “Let’s wash and get out.”

“No, the water feels nice.”

I pull back enough to grip his chin. “But I want you to put your cock inside me.”

His jaw drops. “Kit.”

“I want you to fuck me and experience the joys of being deep inside me. I want you to pull me apart, beautiful.”

He nods eagerly. “We can get out.”

“Good answer.”