Page 25 of Only You
TWENTY
“Jesus, fuck. Do you have enough shoes?” Kellan complains as he packs another pair of sneakers into the box sitting on my old bed.
“A man needs his shoes,” I say, grabbing another pair and putting them in the box. “Besides, I’ve had some of these since high school.”
“You’ve got to be joking,” Cason pipes up. “That’s like twenty years ago.”
“Ha ha,” I say, raising my middle finger and making him snicker, but the little shit is using his Thanksgiving break to help me move in with my boyfriend, so I can’t complain.
“I can’t believe you’re moving in,” Kellan says, packing up the box and putting tape over it to close it up. But he doesn’t look disturbed by the fact. Instead, he looks happy.
“I’d have moved in a month ago.”
“Clinger,” Cason says, making Kellan laugh.
“Yeah well, I can’t wait to watch you fall in love, kid,” Kellan says to Cason, who’s looking at him like he’s insane. “That’s gonna knock you on your ass.”
I chuckle. “Oh, without a doubt. Can’t wait to meet that person who makes you all googly-eyed.
” I say person because, well honestly, I’m starting to learn that assuming someone is straight is just plain stupid.
Hell, assuming you’re straight is plain stupid.
I say just go with whatever the universe hands to you.
Don’t fight it.
Something tells me, though, Cason is going to fight the hell out of it—just like he does everything else.
“That’ll never happen,” he says fiercely, his jaw set with determination.
Yeah, the kid’s gonna fall, and he’s going to fall hard. No doubt.
Kellan and I share a look and then laugh before finishing packing up and taking everything over to Remy’s house.
Remy is there and cleaning frantically when we all walk in—each with a box in our hands. He looks adorable in his sweats and t-shirt, a rag in his hand as he cleans the kitchen floor.
“Dude, he’s already seen your house. No need to clean to impress him,” Cason quips, dropping the box at his feet.
“Careful,” I say nudging the kid and then look at Remy on his hands and knees, scrubbing the floor.
I mean, I don’t hate the view, and now that the kitchen floor is clean, I have ideas about how we can break this place in tonight.
But I hold out my hand to help him up, bracing the box with my other hand.
He reaches for it and lets me lift him, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Thought we should get a clean start.”
I kiss him softly, keeping it chaste, even though I kind of want to tell Kellan and Cason to get lost. I can unload the truck by myself. But I suppose since they’re already here, I’ll take the help.
“Let’s go get more,” Kellan says, placing his box on top of the one Cason discarded.
“I get extra credit for this, right?” Cason asks Remy.
“Nope.” Remy is all too happy to answer his question. “But you get the satisfaction of knowing you helped two men in love move into their home.”
“Gag.” Cason rolls his eyes and then grumbles his way to the door.
I laugh but put my box down and get to it, because the sooner we get all my stuff in here, the sooner we can celebrate. And I’m ready to celebrate. Even though my ass is still pretty sore today from taking Remy last night—I crave that feeling again.
Being filled by him over and over. The connection. The longing. The most powerful orgasm of my life.
Yes. Please.
It doesn’t take too long for us to get everything moved in. Then Cason and Kellan dip out shortly after, leaving Remy and me alone to unpack. I like his house. It’s cozy and warm. He has plenty of room for all my stuff and helps me organize it all, putting it away neatly.
I’m dead tired by the time we’re finished, but when he suggests a shower for two, suddenly, I have all the energy in the world and spring up from the couch, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the bathroom connected to our room.
He starts the shower while I strip down. Then I strip him too, my hands wandering all over his body, and I’m unable to pull my mouth from his. I can’t get enough of him.
We climb under the warm spray of water together, our hands still roaming as he grabs the soap and lathers us both up. His body moves behind mine, and I know he’s admiring my tattoos when I feel his fingers dragging over specific spots on my back. It’s something I’ve noticed he loves doing.
But when he drops down to his knees behind me, my lust heightens. I can feel his breath on the backs of my thighs as his hands caress my ass and then pull my cheeks open. I should probably be a little embarrassed or nervous by his perusal, but all I feel is turned the fuck on.
I brace myself against the marble shower wall, and when his sinful tongue drags over my hole, I can’t keep quiet. My moans of pleasure are loud and copious as he licks inside me, then fucking me with his tongue over and over.
His hand moves to my cock, stroking it as he orally fucks me. Who the hell knew this would feel so good? I had no idea what I was missing, but I’m quickly becoming addicted to it.
I come without any warning, my release spraying the shower wall as my body clamps down on his tongue, and he licks me over and over again until I can’t take it anymore and my knees nearly give out.
When he stands up, I turn around on shaky legs, but before he can kiss me, I drop to my knees and swallow him down.
I’m desperate to taste him. To make him come down my throat. My hands find his ass as I suck on him, teasing him with my tongue and then taking him to the back of my throat over and over. I trail my finger down his crease, my eyes glancing up to him to make sure it’s okay.
When I get a nod from him, his hand going to my hair and threading through it, I find his sweet hole with the pad of my finger and press gently into him.
I don’t get very far before he’s crying out my name, his ass clenching around the tip of my finger, flexing over and over as he spurts warm cum into my mouth.
When I manage to stand, I wrap my arms around him and hold him to me, relishing in the feeling of two hearts beating together. I lost him once.
There was a very good chance I never would have known his love, but because of dumb luck and hell, maybe even fate, I found him again.
I’m never, ever letting him go.