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CHAPTER TWENTY

TAMERON

How did people even survive before the internet? It had taken me an hour or two to do some solid research into what would have been the most awkward conversation on the planet if I’d had to ask someone in person.

Nash. I would’ve had to ask Nash, and the thought alone made me break out in a sweat. I trusted him with my life and then some, but that didn’t mean I wanted him to explain the ins and outs of anal sex to me. The ins especially—and I snorted at my own lame joke.

Things were good between Dayton and me. Something had shifted, though it was hard to pinpoint what. It helped that he’d allowed me to be there for him instead of me always being the one needing help. Like that had restored some kind of invisible balance in our relationship.

Or maybe it was because I was making an effort to open up more. Jesus, that shit was hard. Four sessions of group therapy, and I still resented every moment of it. Though I suppose that was a step up from my initial vicious hate, so there was that.

Either way, I was trying to talk to Dayton more about things, including the stuff he couldn’t possibly be interested in yet seemed to be.

He patiently listened to me talk about restoring cars, about why I decided to enlist, about the friendship with Nash, Creek, and Bean, about my continuing struggles with ASL.

Not only that, but he asked questions and gave advice when I asked.

The man was either a saint or a masochist. I hadn’t decided which one yet.

He talked to me more too, including about his work, and I felt privileged to be able to listen to him when he needed to vent or unload.

I’d seen my fair share of shit in combat, so his stories didn’t bother me.

While I might have PTSD in some form, it was mild in my case and mostly related to the accident.

I wasn’t easily triggered, and thank god for that.

But all that talking and sharing was bringing us closer.

And nine out of ten times, after talking, we ended up in bed.

Kissing, making out, swapping blowjobs and hand jobs.

Two days ago, we’d made each other come with the most insanely hot frotting session ever.

I’d come in my pants like some high school kid, but with zero regrets.

I was ready for more. Dayton hadn’t put any pressure on me, which meant a lot to me. He probably hadn’t wanted to put any pressure on me, and I respected the hell out of him for that. But I wanted more. Hell, I wasn’t even sure why I had waited this long.

The only remaining question was whether I wanted to top or bottom for my first time. Topping would be much easier, of course, and I had no doubt Dayton would let me. But was that what I really wanted?

Not to get all philosophical and shit, but if I wanted to open up more and let people truly into my life, wasn’t this a great metaphor for what I needed to do with Dayton? Let him in…literally?

Hence my research. I’d seen gay porn, obviously.

One did not discover one was bisexual without watching some.

That had to be some kind of law or something.

And it had been hot as fuck. The Ballsy Boys especially had some amazing stuff.

But porn was not real, and so I’d wanted to get my facts straight, no pun intended.

Now all that was left was telling Dayton.

How in the name of everything holy did one approach that?

I wasn’t romantic by any definition—in fact, one ex-girlfriend had accused me of not having a romantic bone in my body, and she probably wasn’t far off—but even I could see that an announcement like “I’m ready to fuck or get fucked, should you be so inclined” wouldn’t exactly set the mood.

And with Dayton hell-bent on respecting my boundaries, he wouldn’t bring it up, so it would have to be me.

We’d ordered in from some hole-in-the-wall Vietnamese place that had the most amazing pho I’d ever tasted, and now we were stretched out on Dayton’s couch, watching the original Twister movie.

“I love disaster movies,” Dayton said as he played with the short hairs on my neck, his arm firmly wrapped around me. “The more stressed I am, the more I appreciate them. As if watching someone else’s life fall apart makes mine seem better.”

I chuckled. “I’ve never looked at it like that, but you’re right.”

“Though I do have to turn off my brain sometimes because they get so much wrong, especially when emergency responders are involved.”

“God, yes. It’s one of the reasons I can’t watch anything about the military. Well, more specifically about the Army. I loved Top Gun , for example, even though I know damn well very little of that movie is real.”

Dayton snorted. “That movie has scenes that are so homoerotic straight men get aroused.”

Homoerotic? What was he talking about? Then it hit. “Oh, you mean the volleyball scene?”

“Tell me that didn’t turn you on, even before you realized you were bi.”

Had it? I only needed to think about it for a moment before the truth hit. “Jesus, you’re right. How did I never realize that?”

His laugh reverberated through his chest. “Like I said, even straight men react to that, so don’t worry. And they did a beautifully updated version in Top Gun: Maverick . Miles Teller is”—he kissed his fingers dramatically—“chef’s kiss.”

“I assume you’re not talking about his volleyball skills?” I asked dryly.

“Your assumption is correct.”

“Hmm, if we want to get in the right mood, maybe we should put that one on because this”—I pointed at Bill Paxton, who was now trying to get his truck out of a precarious situation while Helen Hunt yelled at him—“is not one I watch for the eye candy. No offense.”

Dayton half-turned to me so we were face-to-face. “The right mood? For what?”

And here I was, thinking I’d been subtle. “You know, mood. In general.”

His eyes narrowed. “I thought you were in a good mood? Is something wrong?”

Fucking hell, I sucked at this. “For sex. I was trying to set the mood for sex.”

“Since when do we need to have a certain mood for sex?”

I let out a bone-deep sigh, surrendering to the inevitable. “I wanted to work up to a moment where I could subtly tell you that I’m ready for more than what we’ve been doing so far and not make it sound transactional. Clearly, I failed spectacularly.”

At first, Dayton’s eyes widened, but then he slapped a hand over his mouth as a snicker escaped him. I sighed. “You’re allowed to laugh.”

And so he did, but then he grabbed my neck and dragged me in for a kiss, and pretty soon, neither of us was laughing.

As Twister continued in the background, we kissed until our bodies were pressed flush together, until our lips were throbbing, until we ran out of breath.

And then Dayton’s gorgeous brown eyes focused on me. “You sure?”

“Yes. And I want to bottom.”

He swallowed. “That’s… I can’t wait to be inside you, baby. I’ll make it good for you, I promise.”

Something soft and fuzzy unfurled in my chest. “I know.”

He kissed me again. “Bedroom?”

I nodded, my heart skipping a beat. I wasn’t nervous so much as excited.

Hand in hand, we made our way into Dayton’s bedroom, where he closed the door behind us and locked it. I waited until he looked at me, then removed my hearing aids. I wanted to feel him, to focus on my other senses rather than wasting energy trying to hear everything.

The look in Dayton’s eyes as he nodded his approval nearly took my breath away.

The fondness, the affection, the desire.

It was all there, wrapped in a gaze so intense it made my knees go weak.

He stepped closer and ran his hands down my arms, his touch electric even through the fabric of my shirt.

At the hem, he paused, then slowly lifted it.

I raised my arms to help him get it off, and it landed somewhere on the floor, quickly forgotten.

Dayton leaned in and pressed soft kisses along my jaw as his fingers traced patterns on my bare skin.

I shivered and tilted my head to give him better access.

The drag of his stubble against my throat was a delicious kind of torture, and I couldn’t stop the small moan that escaped me.

He pulled back to look at me, his pupils blown wide.

“So responsive,’ he signed, his hands shaking a little. ‘Gorgeous.’

Heat crawled into my cheeks. I’d never thought of myself as beautiful.

Handsome, maybe. But the raw honesty in Dayton’s eyes made me almost believe him.

His smile was blinding, and then he was on me again, his mouth finding mine in a searing kiss.

His tongue swept into my mouth and tangoed with mine, and I was helpless against the onslaught of sensations.

My hands came up to clutch his shoulders, holding on for dear life as he devoured me.

When he pulled back, we were both panting.

He took a step away from me and pulled his shirt over his head, revealing his gorgeous, muscular chest. My mouth watered at the sight of his dusky pierced nipples, and I reached out to touch them before I could stop myself.

He let out a shaky breath as I rolled the barbells between my fingers, and his abs contracted under my touch.

I was so lost in exploring his body that I didn’t notice him undoing my jeans until they pooled at my ankles.

I stepped out of them and kicked them aside, leaving me in just my boxer briefs.

Dayton’s eyes raked over me hungrily, and I grew even harder under his gaze.

He made quick work of his own jeans, and then we were both standing there in our underwear, chests heaving with anticipation.

Dayton closed the distance between us and kissed me again, gentler this time.