Page 43 of Taste Test

“This is gonna sound so dumb,” I said, “but I was sad to hear you call me ‘mate’ just now. It just feels a bit of a come down after being called baby.”

“Oh…”

I gave a weak laugh. “Forget it. I’m being a dick.”

“Casey, no. That’s just... ‘mate’ is a habit. I call everyone mate. My brother. My coach. The checkout guy at Pak’nSave. But I can easily remedy that now that we’re boyfriends.”

“Boyfriends?”

“Well, duh. I just let you stick your dick up my arse. That’s not something I’d do for just anyone. You’re my boyfriend now, baby. Get used to it.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that. And from now on, you’re baby. Or babe. Whatever you prefer. ‘Mate’ is for friends and pimply dudes who work in retail.” His thumb brushed over my cheekbone. “You’re something much more important than that. You have been for a long time.”

“So you just decided for both of us that we’re dating now?” I said with a smirk, clearly joking.

But Jared didn’t catch the humour. His blue eyes clouded with worry. “Wait—shit. You… you do want to be my boyfriend, don’t you?”

“Of course I do, silly. More than anything.”

“Then it’s settled,” he said, looking relieved. “Casey David Walmsley, you’re officially my boyfriend. My baby. My beautiful, hung-like-a-horse man who just rocked my world.”

He laughed and settled against me properly, hooking his leg higher over mine and nuzzling into my shoulder. His lips found the curve where my neck met my collarbone, pressing soft kisses there.

“Mmm,” he hummed against my skin. “You taste like sweat and victory.”

“Victory?”

“Yeah. Like you just conquered something.” Another kiss, this one with a hint of teeth. “Which, let’s be honest, you kind of did.”

“That’s one way to put it.”

I could feel his lips pull into a dirty boy smile against my neck. Then his mouth opened wider and he sucked hard, teeth scraping against my skin. I hissed at the sharp pleasure-pain as he worked at creating what was definitely going to be a massive bruise.

With a smile of my own, I asked, “What are you doing, hornbag?”

He pulled back to admire his handiwork, running his thumb over the tender spot. “You just rearranged my arsehole into the shape of your cock, so I get to mark your neck with the shape of my teeth.”

“Fair enough, I guess.”

“Full disclosure though, the hickey’s mostly to let people know you’re off the market.”

The possessiveness in his tone made my spent cock give a valiant twitch.

“So,” he said, “when do I get my membership card?”

“Your what?”

“My membership card to the bum brigade. The arse bandits. The Rear Admiral Society.” His grin got wider. “There’s got to be some sort of official welcome pack. Maybe a handbook on proper bottom etiquette and a free starter douche kit.”

I laughed. “You’re ridiculous.”

“But I’m your ridiculous boyfriend now.” He waggled his eyebrows. “That makes things different.”

“How are they different?”

“Because now when I’m ridiculous, you have to put up with it. Boyfriend obligations and all that.”

“Are there any other boyfriend obligations I should be aware of?” I asked, settling back against the pillows.

Jared’s eyes lit up like I’d just asked about his favourite topic. “Let’s see. Daily blowjobs are non-negotiable. Minimum two, but I’m flexible on timing.”

“Daily?”

“What? I’m being reasonable. I’m not asking for three.

” He ticked off points on his fingers. “You have to watch my terrible movie choices without complaining too much. And you have to give me at least one proper kiss hello when I get back from training, even if I’m sweaty and disgusting. You also have to fuck me every night—”

“Every night?”

“Okay, fine. Five nights a week. I’ll give you weekends off if you’re tired from all the excellent sex we’ll be having.”

I snorted. “I wasn’t complaining. You’ll be getting it every night if I have anything to say about it. Might have to invest in more lube though.”

“Agreed.” He moved to another finger. “You have to move into my room permanently for proper boyfriend cuddles. None of this sleeping separately nonsense. And you have to come to every home match wearing my spare jersey so everyone knows you’re mine.”

“You want people to know about us?” I asked, genuinely surprised. “Your teammates? The public?”

“Of course I want people to know about us. Why wouldn’t I?” He looked at me like I was being daft. “Casey, you’re gorgeous and brilliant and you’ve got the best cock in Hamilton. I’d be a fool not to show you off to all my friends.”

“But what about your rugby career? What if—”

“What if what? The team finds out their fullback has excellent taste in men?” He scoffed. “I’m not hiding you. Ever. I want everyone to know Casey Walmsley is my boyfriend and they can fuck off if they don’t like it.”

“You really mean that?” My vision blurred as a tear escaped.

“Every single word.” His thumb wiped away the tear, gentle as a whisper. “I reckon that’s what love is. It’s wanting to shout from the bloody rooftops that this person chose you. That’s what I want—to tell the whole world how lucky I am.”

The word struck like lightning. Love. Spoken out loud.

A flash of panic crossed his features. “I know it might seem sudden but I’ve known I loved you for a while now.

A long while. Maybe since we were sixteen and we kissed on my bed.

Maybe even before that.” His voice got quieter.

“I just didn’t know what to call it then. Didn’t understand what I was feeling.”

“Jared...”

“I know you might find it strange,” he rushed on, words tumbling over each other.

“I know we just figured this out tonight and maybe you don’t feel the same way yet, but I hope you will eventually.

I hope you’ll give us a chance because I can’t imagine going back to pretending anymore.

I can’t go back to watching you make coffee in the morning and pretending I don’t want to kiss you senseless, or listening to you laugh at some stupid movie and not being able to tell you how much I love that sound. I can’t—”

“Jared,” I said more firmly, cupping his face to make him look at me. “Breathe.”

He stopped mid-sentence, eyes wide and vulnerable.

“I love you too,” I said. “I’ve loved you for so long I forgot what it felt like not to love you.”

“Really?”

“Really. Even when I was trying to convince myself I didn’t. Even when you were driving me up the wall. Even when you left your sweaty socks on my clean laundry.” I kissed him softly. “Especially then.”

He smiled and pulled me closer, his arms wrapping around me like he was afraid I might disappear.

My head found its place on his chest, fitting perfectly beneath his collarbone. I could feel his heartbeat slowing, gradually syncing with my own, like our bodies were chanting in unison: be one, be one, be one.