Page 21 of The Allure of Ruins

W e bought several things at the store because he wanted to cook breakfast for me in the morning, plus, that way, the lube was among other items and didn’t stand out. I told him we were grown-ups and it didn’t matter. Fun to watch him blush.

“We should get some condoms too,” I said, reaching for them.

“No,” he said tightly, and I turned to him. “I’ve never not used one, and I know it’s been a very long time for you.”

My voice lowered to a whisper. “Yes, but I was taken once, from Gen, and during that time, I don’t know exactly what was––”

“But that was forever ago, nearly a decade, and you’ve been tested since then,” he said firmly. “Probably many times. I know you, so I’m sure of it.”

“How?”

He shrugged. “I know you better’n anyone.”

I nodded.

“And before that?”

“I’ve never in my life not used one.”

“With anyone?”

I knew what he was asking. Had I used one with Gen? “With anyone,” I answered.

“So it’ll be our thing…the not using them.”

“Yes,” I said, overcome with his trust in me.

He threw an arm around my neck, pulling me close, tucking me in tight against him before he kissed my temple.

I had to wonder if it would be like this from now on, because I could easily get used to the constant affection and closeness.

But then as we were walking home, each of us carrying one of his recyclable tote bags and holding hands, I had an epiphany.

The affection and closeness were already there.

We always walked with me holding on to his arm, that had been the case since the beginning, and then later, him holding my hand or my bicep.

The only part that was new was the kisses, and when I made him stop in the middle of the sidewalk, hand on the lapel of his peacoat, tugging him down to me, there was a wicked grin before he took my mouth, kissing me breathless right there.

“Oh,” I murmured, my sigh long.

“Tell me.” His voice shook, gruff with affection.

“Colton Gates, I love you so much.”

“I knew it all along,” he said smugly. “Whenever I look into all that blue, I think: his eyes never get soft and dark like that for anyone but me.”

“You’ve noticed my eyes?”

“Of course,” he grumbled, taking hold of my hand and giving a gentle tug to get me moving. “Everyone does. When people come into the office and meet you for the first time, they end up staring. It happens constantly and I fuckin’ hate it.”

They didn’t, I wasn’t blind, but I loved that he thought so. “Is that right?”

“Yes, that’s—don’t be stupid.”

I didn’t laugh, just walked beside him, held his hand, and soaked in the sunshine that was him. I couldn’t remember ever being happier.

He made way too much food, but fortunately, even though he wasn’t a clean-as-you-go person, I was. When we were both drinking tea as the sun came up, he yawned loudly.

I laughed, and he shook his head. “Not sexy.”

“Actually, it very much was,” I assured him. “You’re content at the moment.”

“I’m always content when you’re with me,” he murmured, his eyelids drooping.

“Come on, let’s go lie down.”

He didn’t fight me. He slid off the barstool and let me lead him to his bedroom. We both stripped down and got under the covers.

“You should come to the party with me tonight,” he muttered as he spooned me.

I wanted to answer, but I was on sensory overload. His bicep was under my head, his arm around my waist, his chest plastered to my back, and his thighs pressed to mine. The all-over body shudder was no surprise.

“This all right?”

“Yes,” I husked.

“Good,” he said, nuzzling my hair. “And so you know, I set the alarm when we came in.”

Normally, that was the first thing I would have asked, but not this time. Not in this moment. “Thank you for telling me.”

“I know you’re worried about me, but you don’t have to be. I’ve been taking care of both of us for a long time now.”

Yes, he had.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got you.”

We slept like the dead. He because he was exhausted, and I because I felt so safe lying in his arms. When his phone woke us up around five, he grabbed it off his nightstand and stared groggily at the display.

I pressed my lips together tight so I wouldn’t laugh.

“I can’t see what this says.”

I chuckled.

He held the phone out for me and rolled over when I took it, his back to me.

“You need reading glasses,” I told him for probably the hundredth time.

“Thirty-five-year-old men don’t need reading glasses,” he groused.

“They certainly might if they read off a computer all day , read briefs all day , and type all day . We need to get you the kind with the blue lens coating too.”

He grunted, not turning to me.

“This is Mr. Somerset sending out a reminder that the whole firm—support staff, paralegals, associates, and partners—need to be at the InterContinental Chicago Hotel tonight at seven.”

Second grunt from him.

“He reiterates to everyone that it is a black-tie affair,” I said smiling. “I’m thinking he doesn’t want to see any jeans or flannel.”

“You’re funny,” he said dryly.

“You don’t mean it,” I teased him.

“I don’t even own a tuxedo.”

“Yes, you do.”

“How do you know what—oh yeah.”

I laughed and scooted over to him, kissing his nape.

“How many of those stupid things did you make me try on?”

“Many, but in the end, Armani was the one.”

“Still needed to be altered,” he reminded me. “My chest was too wide.”

“Yes,” I said with a sigh, pressing my face between his shoulder blades.

“It is, you said so,” he said sulkily.

“Yes, I did,” I agreed. “It’s because you’re so beautifully proportioned.”

“Now you’re being snide,” he snapped at me.

“Never,” I murmured, slipping my hand around his throat and turning his head so I could reach his lips.

I kissed him languorously, sliding my tongue between his lips, loving the feel of his tongue rubbing against mine.

He rolled over to face me, careful not to part our lips even with us bumping together, and when his hand closed on my hardening length, I moaned.

“That was a good noise,” he said, smiling against my lips.

“I put the lube in your nightstand.”

“Maybe I just put my mouth on you this time,” he whispered roughly.

“Or maybe I ride you like I want and you can come inside me.”

“Fuck,” he gasped, pulling away, then rolled over and tried to open the nightstand.

The drawer stuck, as it always did, which I told him would happen before he decided to go ahead and buy the pair after all.

Not only were they odd, eyesores amid the rest of his furniture with the classic lines, but also poorly designed.

“Stop,” I said, smiling as I climbed over him, still careful of his stitches. I lifted the drawer slightly while sliding it out.

“You were right. They’re ugly, and the drawers aren’t seated right.”

“But the color matches,” I said, because that had been his reasoning at the time. “Doesn’t it?”

“We’ll get new ones, and you can give these to whoever it is at work who collects mid-century furniture.”

“It’s Natalie, and she’ll be thrilled,” I said, gently pushing on his shoulder so he was flat on his back. “Or I can take them to my place. I don’t have nightstands.”

When I looked at him, he was scowling.

“What?”

“What my ass,” he growled. “I have all your stuff here, where it belongs. You’re not going anywhere, and we both know you don’t want to.”

“No, I don’t,” I acknowledged, throwing back the covers before I climbed over him, straddling his hips. “I want to stay here with you.”

“Then it’s settled, and let’s not talk about it any…more,” he said, his voice going out on him as I flicked open the lube and poured some into my hand.

“I won’t always need this much, but this is the first time in a long time, and I don’t want to wait to have you stretch me and get me ready.”

“I know what to do,” he said, his breath catching as I fisted his length and stroked him, slathering his cock. “There’s rimming, and I can use my fingers and?—”

“Have you done all that?” I asked, lifting up and notching the wide head against my opening. Watching him, seeing the flush again on his face, on his throat, kept me present and grounded, focused on him and nothing else.

“I thought I should know about sex with men if I ever got the chance to?—”

“Did you watch porn for me?” I teased him, pressing down a bit, the pain immediate and sharp.

“I read,” he corrected me, taking hold of my shaft, stroking me with one hand, the other sliding around the side of my neck to ease me down into a kiss.

He knew. Even now, having never been in bed with me before, he knew I craved more than the physical joining; that I craved the connection to my lover. Even better, he wanted the exact same thing.

His kisses were ravenous, claiming, and I sank into the heat of his mouth, my body going boneless, wanting only to be closer.

His hand on my length, dragging through precum, was both firm and gentle, and I began to rock, forward into his grip and back onto his cock, taking more and more of him inside me.

I bit his lip when he tried to break the kiss, and he put his thumb in my mouth so I would suck on that a moment while he gulped air.

“You’re so fuckin’ tight, and your muscles are squeezing around me like—Pax, honey, I’m not gonna make it all the way in,” he rasped, panting now. “I—fuck!”

I dropped down over him, fully seated, loving him buried to his balls, and even more, savoring the feeling of fullness.

Lifting, bracing my hands on his chest, I tucked my head against my shoulder, hiding, not ready for him to see me so vulnerable.

“No,” he ordered, both hands reaching for my face and gently, tenderly, turning my head until my gaze met his. “Come on. This is us. Have faith that I’m in the same exact place.”

I noted the blown pupils and the deep honey gold, and how red his lips were from my voracious kisses. He was just as naked, body and soul, as I was.

“Is this too much? Am I hurting you?”