Page 49 of It’s Only Love

Mike

I snuggle up against Dennis, breathing him in, as I lick along his neck, nibbling at his skin.

He tastes like the ocean, all salty and warm, from our visit to the beach this morning.

It’s been two weeks since his accident, and he’s still a little unsteady on his feet, but we try to take Willow out every day.

We just sat in the sand, gazing out toward the horizon, our fingers tangled together, talking about the house I’m going to build for us.

I can’t wait. Now that we’re ready to begin our life together, it’s like I can’t get started fast enough.

I’d be lying if I said that all my fears have suddenly vanished, because I’ll always be the kind of guy who worries a little too much and overthinks stuff, but they’re good fears, I think.

They’re the kinds of fears you have because you’ve finally decided to live your life to the fullest, and there’s something at stake.

But I won’t let them keep me from getting what I want out of life. Not anymore.

I slide my fingers through the hair at the back of his neck, still damp from the exertion of going to the beach.

His lofty giggles resound in my head from when I blocked him at his bathroom door and swept him up in my arms. “No shower for you. Not now. I want to taste the sun on your skin.” I have no idea where those words came from, but over the past few weeks, since I showed Dennis the plot of land and essentially asked him to move in with me, it’s as if something inside me that was once broken has finally clicked into place.

Dennis protested, pretending to struggle in my arms. “But I’m all sweaty and smelly.

” I buried my face in his T-shirt, rubbing it against him, sniffing him loudly.

“You are. Just the way I fucking love you, baby. All sweaty and so fucking delectable.” Then, while still being careful, I lifted him off the ground and threw him over my shoulder, real firefighter-style, and carried him to his bedroom.

“Miiike!” he squealed. “Put me down, you brute!”

His eyes were overflowing with love and happiness when I put him down on his bed and covered his body with mine.

“Brute, huh?” He nodded, an irresistible blush coating his cheeks, freckles exploding across his nose.

“My brute,” he nearly swooned. To think that I have a hot as fuck guy swooning over me… It still blows my mind most days.

I can’t exactly pinpoint it, but something has definitely shifted between us since the accident.

It felt good to share my fears with Dennis finally, and to have him reassure me he wants to be with me here in Cannon Beach.

I never want him to feel that he can’t chase his dreams because of me, so it meant everything to me that he doesn’t see it like that.

“You’re scratchy,” he says, wiggling underneath me.

“Sorry,” I mumble against his skin.

He snorts. “No, I love it. I still have burn marks on my thighs from when you went down on me last night.”

I can’t stop the growl that builds in my throat. “Fuck, baby, my marks on you are the sexiest fucking thing ever. ”

“I know, right?” He brushes his thumb against my neck, where a hickey is luckily starting to fade. He chuckles. “The look on Dad’s face the other day when you were going over the blueprint with him and he noticed that fucking hickey.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me! Definitely not one of my finest moments.”

Jon’s been helping me put together a spreadsheet and cost estimate for the building project.

He says he’s made a lot of contacts over the years that we can draw on to secure some good deals on building materials, plumbing, and electrical installation.

The rest, he reckons, we should be able to do ourselves.

I hope he still means that after seeing his employee with his youngest son’s big, fat hickey on his neck.

“It was pretty funny, though. So damn adorable when you blush like that.” He curls his fingers around my shoulders, thrusting his hips up against me.

He’s hard. So am I. Constantly. It’s like an addiction.

I can’t keep my hands to myself when he’s around.

Mom jokes that we’re like those symbiotic creatures that live attached to each other.

She isn’t wrong. I can tell that she’s happy for me.

She’s also mentioned more than once over the past two weeks that she regrets that she and I didn’t talk sooner after Dad died.

I know she still feels guilty for not being able to take care of me and deal with her loss at the same time, but I think I understand it better now.

Dennis’ accident put into perspective for me what it must’ve been like for her back then—the enormity of her grief.

“Ugh, I just wanna lick you from head to fucking toes, Mike.” Dennis rolls his hips against me, grinding on my thigh. “I just love how thick your thighs are. I could fucking come like this.”

I chuckle. He did, in fact, come like this yesterday in his parents’ laundry room, when he needed my ‘ help with something ’ on a top shelf.

Help, my ass. I’ve created a damn monster, but I can’t seem to care.

I’m just about ready to bust a nut or two myself.

Dennis had a check-up at the hospital yesterday, and he got the all-clear for ‘ moderate physical activities. ’ I wonder if fucking his boyfriend is considered a moderate physical activity ?

“Need you.” I grind my pelvis against his, loving the feel of him beneath me.

How hard he is. How he moves when I move, as though we’re almost one person.

I never thought I’d have this with anyone.

This feeling of belonging and being complete.

Turns out, he was right there in front of me all along, just waiting for me to catch up with him.

“Need you, too,” he rasps. “So fucking much.”

I ease off him a little, resting my weight on my hands. Our faces are right up against each other, his breath little hot puffs against my chin. His eyes are all glazed over with pent-up lust.

“I want you to fuck me, Den.”

His eyes grow wide as he takes me in, searching my face. “Yeah? You sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. I’m ready, baby.” I brush my nose against his, rubbing my hard-on against his thigh. “I think I’m gonna die if you don’t fuck me.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” he chuckles, pressing his lips against mine. “I need you alive to build us that dream house.” His tongue dips out, and he sweeps it along my bottom lip, teasing my mouth open, his teeth grazing my skin.

I laugh. “Oh, I see how it is. You’re just in it for the dream house, huh?”

“Of course. What did you think? The house and this,” he breathes, cupping my dick, squeezing it.

“Please, Den.” I fuck into his hold, my balls heavy, my ass dying to be filled by him, to feel him move inside me. I want to know what he feels when I fuck him. I want to experience it and give myself to him like that. I need it .

He flips me over, grinning at me. “Never took you for a needy bottom, Mike Tanner. But I’d be lying if I said I’m not dying to get inside that tight hole of yours.”

“Fuck, baby!” My hips lift from the bed as I grind up into him.

He waggles his brows suggestively. Nurse Sally was right.

Dennis is fucking Trouble with a capital T , but I love it.

“Aren’t you glad we got tested? Now I can fill that ass of yours, and you’ll still be leaking cum when you meet Aaron for a drink later.

” His words almost make me come on the spot, my head spinning, as I imagine Dennis coming inside me, fucking his cum into me, filling me up.

“Fuck, I want that!” I blurt out—like the needy bottom I apparently am. “I want that so fucking bad.”

He frowns at me. “Did you…? I mean, do you need to use the shower?”

I think I blush all the way from the tips of my toes to my hair roots. I mean, if hair can blush. It probably can’t, but it sure feels like it. Then five words I never in a million years thought I’d speak, leave my mouth, “No, I douched this morning.” Fuck.

He laughs, his chest vibrating. “You ‘ Douched for Dennis .’ Fuck, babe, that should be a movie.”

I groan at how ridiculous he is, shaking my head. “I guess I did.”

“Then strip, babe.”

He doesn’t have to tell me twice. We both pull off our clothes, laughing as we discard them somewhere on the floor.

When we’re both naked, our bodies shaking with anticipation, Dennis leans up and licks across my chest, humming against my skin.

He alternates kisses with little bites, and it’s the most intense feeling ever, this pleasure-pain dancing across my skin.

He pauses to spit into his hand, then wraps it around my cock and starts stroking me before burying his face back in my chest hair.

The noises he makes should be illegal. They’re borderline obscene, the slurps and groans that spill from his lips, as he circles my nipples with his tongue, then sucks them into his mouth, tugging at them with his teeth.

“Oh, shit.” I thrust into his hand, precum mixed with Dennis’ spit, making the glide easier.

My body burns for him, this overload of emotions running through me.

Lust. Gratitude. Love. So much fucking love.

“Baby, baby, baby,” I chant as I slide in and out of his tight grip.

He licks along my pec, nuzzling his nose into my armpit, burying his entire face in it.

The sounds he elicits are animal-like, possessive.

His other hand slides along my hip, toward my ass, where he grabs it, digging his fingers into the fleshy part.