Page 31 of The Question of Us (Fisher & Church #2)

“Georgia” bled into “Always on My Mind,” which in turn bled into “Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain.” And still we danced.

Sometimes we left the singing to Willie.

Sometimes I sang along. Occasionally Nick did too.

Dancing was definitely his stronger suit, but I didn’t care.

The whole experience felt... extraordinary, almost magical.

At any moment, I half expected to wake up in my own bed and find Nick gone.

Because people... couples didn’t really do this stuff, did they?

Men didn’t do this stuff, at least not the men I’d known.

And if you’d told me just minutes before that a scathingly candid and brusque Nick Fisher would have me dancing naked in his arms, in a motel room while crooning a Willie Nelson song, I’d have said you needed your head read and sent you for medication.

And yet there we were.

And maybe that was part of the magic.

One of the many complex layers that made up this curiously blunt yet unpredictably charming man.

Nick pressed his lips into my hair, and I did the same against his neck, our soft cocks caught between us, his head leaning against mine, and Willie Nelson singing up a storm.

It was strangely non-sexual, no pressure to take things further.

But at the same time, it was the most erotic thing I’d experienced in my entire life.

When things finally wound down and Nick tipped my chin up to kiss me, I couldn’t have told you which way the world spun or even if I cared.

His long, slow assault on my mouth until I was gasping for air pretty much sucked the entire blood supply from my brain and redirected it south, taking every sensible thought along with it.

“Is that your hip bone in my groin or are you just happy to see me?” He nipped the soft flesh of my earlobe, then thrust his tongue inside.

I tried for a witty comeback, but... nope, nothing there.

He walked me back into the bathroom and lifted me once again onto the vanity.

Then he ran his fingers through the grey hair that covered my chest and sighed.

“So fucking sexy.” He leaned close to lick a nipple and the needy whine that came out of my mouth was downright embarrassing.

“We should have something to clean off in that bath, don’t you think? Make it worth the effort.”

Before I could answer, Nick was kissing his way down my chest and belly to my dick, which had suddenly decided to check back in and pay attention. I gasped as he gave the head a quick swipe of his tongue, and every cell in my body screamed, Yes!

Like he’d heard, Nick rose to face me wearing a wicked smile. “You like that?”

I pulled him forward and kissed him. “What do you think?”

“I think you have a very pretty cock.” As if to reinforce the fact, Nick’s hand wrapped around my dick and gave a couple of solid tugs.

“Oh... god.” My head fell back against the mirror and I groaned.

“Then I suggest less talk and more... whatever.” I circled my hand randomly in the air and Nick chuckled.

He added a twist to his wrist, his thumb grazing my slit to spark stars behind my eyes.

“Oh, fuck.” I began thrusting into his hand, unable to stop myself. “Yeah, more of that.”

He kissed down my throat as he continued to work my cock, nibbling across my clavicle before kissing through the grey hair that covered my chest. He lingered over my scars, the bullet wound, the marks left by my skin cancer treatments, the remnants of all those bruises from weeks before, almost invisible now. But Nick remembered.

Seemingly satisfied he’d attended to each and every spot, Nick’s head suddenly dropped from my chest, and wet heat engulfed my aching cock.

A delicious hot slide all the way down to the root.

The man had a mouth on him in more ways than one.

I was still contemplating this when he took my dick all the way to the back of his throat and swallowed around it.

Pleasure fired through my belly, and I would’ve slid off the vanity if Nick hadn’t still had my cock in his mouth. “Jesus,” I gasped. “Now you’re just showing off.”

He choked as a laugh tried unsuccessfully to bubble out and then pulled off for a quick breath and a slap to my hip. “Stay still.”

“Yes, sir.” I smiled and ran a hand over his head, relishing the soft brush of the shorter cut against my palm.

I wanted a lot more of his hot, sweet mouth on mine, but the man was on a mission.

He slid both hands under my butt, wrapped his lips around my dick, and doubled down, his cheeks pulling in tight, the pressure relentless as he sucked me in long, deep strokes.

It wasn’t long until Nick had me so close to the edge that a decent inhale would’ve flipped the switch, and I found myself panting to string the pleasure out as long as possible.

It worked for a bit, but when he looked up and caught my eye, I was done for.

The lewd sight of my cock filling Nick’s mouth, his swollen lips wrapped around the shaft, the wicked look in his eyes, and it was all over bar the screaming.

I wrapped my hands around his head to hold him in place and delivered a couple of shallow thrusts between his tight lips.

And oh god, holy shit, I exploded into his mouth in a pulsing wave of white-hot pleasure as he groaned and dug his fingers into my arse, feeding my cock deeper into that silken throat as he swallowed every drop until I was done.

I jerked with the final pulse and pushed him away. He fell back, looking punch-drunk as I slid from the vanity, wobbled on my jelly legs for a second, and then shoved a gasping Nick back against the door.

“Breathe, baby,” I whispered as his eyes slid lazily to mine.

“Goddammit, look at you. So fucking gorgeous with my come all over your lips.” I pulled his head down to lick them clean and then kissed him, the salty taste of my spill fresh on his tongue.

It made my fifty-five-year-old cock twitch with a thought that passed just as quickly, not that I gave a fuck about that.

Nick groaned and took the kiss deeper, his arms sliding around my waist as my hand found his cock and started to work it hard.

“Your turn,” I murmured against his open mouth, and Nick muttered something soft and out of reach. I licked deep into his mouth and he groaned, the back of his head connecting with the door.

“So good,” he breathed the words, his head rolling from side to side. But when I made to lower my head to take his cock in my mouth, he stopped me. “No.” He caught my eye. “Just... like... this. Love it.”

I studied his face for a second, wondering if he thought he was going easy on me, but the neediness in those grey eyes spoke the truth. “All righty then.” I hooked the bathroom chair with my foot and dragged it over. “Leg up.”

He lifted one foot onto the chair, allowing my free hand to reach behind his balls and find his hole.

“Argh... oh shit. F-fuck.” His eyes fluttered closed, his attention lost to the pleasure building in his body.

I focused on maintaining some kind of rhythm between stroking his cock and fingering his arse. A wave of expressions crossed Nick’s face, every one of them down to me. What had I done to deserve this? To deserve him . I stretched up to kiss his lips, his grey stubble sharp against my skin.

“Mads,” he groaned, his tongue lightning quick in my mouth.

Mads, not Davis. I smiled. An image of Nick’s deceased husband flickered in my brain, there and gone in an instant. I felt nothing but gratitude.

You’ll always have a place in his heart. I threw the words out into the universe. I’ll take care of him from now on, I promise.

As if he’d heard, Nick made a strangled sound, sought my lips once again, and thrust sharply into my hand. He was close, his orgasm knocking at the door. So close.

“Let go, baby,” I soothed. “I’ve got you.”

The web of lines around his eyes and mouth tightened in that desperate need for release. The calm before the storm. At some point, he stopped kissing me, leaving his teeth pressed against my lips as he groaned into my open mouth.

A few thrusts later and he yanked me tight against him, muscles tense as he humped my hip, sandwiching my hand and his dick between us, making it hard to keep the cadence.

I gave up on Nick’s cock and focused on fucking his arse instead, curling my finger just so to make sure I hit that sweet spot.

It didn’t take much to have him arching against the wall, breath held, body rigid, eyelids screwed tight as he came on a long, drawn-out groan, spilling between us until our bellies were slick with his come.

I stared, eyes locked on Nick’s face, frozen in place as I marvelled just how much my life had changed in six months.

This man . Brash. Blunt. Abrasive. Irritating.

Kind. Tender. Vulnerable. Thoughtful. This remarkably complex man had walked into my life and flipped it upside down.

The biggest miracle of all? Nick genuinely wanted me.

Me. No one in my fifty-five years had ever wanted just me.

Had ever made me feel like I was actually worth it.

Like I was something to be treasured and cherished. Like I really meant something.

I had no words.

I couldn’t describe how much Nick had changed the trajectory of my life.

Even if we didn’t make it, I would never be the same person I’d been before I met him.

My expectations had changed. I wouldn’t settle for being wallpaper in my own life.

I wanted more now. I wanted love. I wanted a relationship that felt like. .. well, like this.

But most of all, I wanted him. I wanted Nick.

He slumped against the door, gasping for air. I freed my hands and reached for a cloth. Then I wrapped him in my arms and whispered sappy nothings against his throat, kissing him between each one while his body slowly calmed.