Page 32 of It’s Only Love

Dennis frowns before tilting his head, his eyes alight with some sort of conclusion. “Maybe you’re demisexual? Have you thought about that? It sounds a lot like you could be.”

“Demisexual?” I’ve heard that term before, but I’m not quite sure what it means .

“Yes. Maybe you need that emotional connection, that bond, before you feel physical attraction.” He says it as if it’s the most normal thing in the world, without judgment or annoyance.

He says it as if I’m normal. Not wrong, but right.

He smiles as he moves closer again. “We’ve been friends for a long time, so we have that connection.

We’re comfortable with each other, so maybe that’s what’s different.

And you’d be surprised, Mike, at how many people are actually demisexual. ”

“Really?”

He laughs. “Fuck, you’re cute, Mike Tanner. Yes, really .” Then his expression grows serious. “We’ll go as slow as you want. Anything you need. We have all the time in the world now that you’ve caught up with me.” The teasing spark that drives me crazy is back in his eyes.

I wrap my arm around his waist, my hand dipping to the back of his spine where his jeans have ridden down. His skin is warm beneath my fingers as I brush against it. He sucks in a breath, his voice a guttural hum. “Mike. Shit, Mike.”

“Anything I need?” I grit as my fingers tease the waistband of his cotton briefs, and he does that rolling movement with his hips again.

He tilts his head back, closing his eyes.

I lean in, burying my face against his neck, breathing him in, until his scent wraps around me like a soft blanket.

Sticking out my tongue, I lick across his Adam’s apple, and he shivers beneath me.

I curl the tip of my tongue around it, feeling him swallow, a moan building beneath his skin, in his throat.

“Fuuuck, Mike.” His movements grow faster, erratic even, as he slowly loses himself. I graze my teeth along his skin, the salty taste of him exploding on my tongue, as I whisper his promise against his skin.

“Anything I need, huh? Anything I need .”

“Yes. Anything, Mike. Please,” he says, and his voice rises, then dips again into a deep groan. I have no idea what he’s asking of me, but whatever it is, I’ll give it to him. There’s nothing I won’t give this man now that he has given me this sense of wholeness, of belonging, that I’ve longed for.

“Anything,” I promise back to him, the word the easiest promise I’ve ever given in my life.

His hard cock brushes up against mine as he whimpers, the layer of denim between us doing absolutely nothing to put a damper on my need for him.

It just grows and grows, the bottle of chilled white wine in the picnic basket I brought long forgotten, the fire I made slowly dying, as we race, together, toward something foreign.

“Shit, Mike,” he trembles in my arms. “What are you doing to me?” I take him in, his features distorted into something that’s a mix of pleasure and pain, his beauty almost otherworldly in the glow from the fire.

Mine , my heart echoes as I take him in, a sense of awe filling my chest. He’s mine.

I think he always was. As scary as that realization is, I don’t want it any other way. I just want this, him.

And then it happens. I let go, and it’s like I fall and fall until I’m hit from behind by a wave and lifted into what I can only describe as heat and light and an overwhelming sense of joy.

I fall for him right there, with the sand beneath me and the stars above me.

And for a moment, it’s like I black out, the sound of the waves rushing in my ears.

I come to, my back against the cool sand, something warm and heavy on top of me. I slowly blink my eyes open and find Dennis smiling, his dazed face hovering above me. His eyes are swimming with the aftermath of our kiss, and he just looks so fucking happy. High almost.

“Mike,” he whispers, his warm breath hitting my chin. “Mike, are you alive?” He laughs, his chest vibrating against mine.

“I don’t know,” I say, my voice coming out raspy. “I think so. Yes.” I definitely feel more alive than I ever have before.

He grins at me, leaning in to press a small kiss to my lips. “That was awesome.”

“Uh-huh. Awesome,” I repeat .

“Awww, poor Mike,” he teases, his voice lofty. “I did kill you.”

“Nah, I’m good. I just need a second or two.”

“Take your time.” He kisses me again, while his fingers dance along my cheeks, my chin, down my neck. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For giving me this. This moment. This kiss, right here. It means more to me than you know.”

“It’s how it should’ve always been. I’m still sorry, you know.”

“Don’t be. This was perfect.” He blinks at me. “The perfect first date.”

Shit, some date. I totally forgot about the wine, cheese, and crackers I brought.

“Can I tempt you with some lukewarm white wine and some half-melted cheese?” I say, and he explodes with laughter on top of me.

“You sure know how to treat a guy to a good time, Mike Tanner. Mind-blowingly epic make-out session, lukewarm white wine, and half-melted cheese. What’s not to like?”

“Shut up.” I dig my fingers into his sides, pinching him through his T-shirt. “It was fucking cold when we got here, but someone had to go and distract me, ruining my plans.”

“Sorry,” he tries to look serious, but he cracks up right away. “I’ll try to be good next time.”

Next time. Next date, next kiss, next… something .

An endless succession of moments with Dennis like this stretches before me, and something clicks into place, and I know that this is just the beginning.

I want more with him. Everything. I want to know what he looks like naked and what he sounds like when he comes.

I want to know how he tastes and feels in places I haven’t explored yet.

I want it all. But we’re in no rush. No rush at all.