Page 4 of The Year of Us 2: February

“Would it make you feel better if I did those things for you?” He took another drink of his coffee. His eyes danced with mischief, and the whole thing felt like a setup…

A trap.

“That’s more familiar,” I said.

“And you know I don’t have a problem getting on my knees for you, Reese. So it’s not just about the kneeling, is it?”

“I…This is ridiculous.” I pushed up from the bed and set my coffee down by the TV.

“Why?”

I rubbed at my chin, two days’ worth of scruff abrading my fingers, but it was nowhere near enough to bring me out of my head to have this conversation with him.

“This is a mistake,” I said.

“Disagree.” He gave me another one of those fucking zen-af smiles of his. “We’re just two men who have good chemistry, Reese. It doesn’t need to be that serious. In fact…it shouldn’t be.”

“I’m glad it’s so simple for you.”

“Nothing about this is simple,” he corrected, setting his coffee beside mine. He stood and turned to face me, a good four inches shorter than me, but possessing all the control of a man twice my size. He stepped closer until our toes brushed, his bare against the tips of my sneakers.

“That’s easy for you to say. You breeze through town, fuck, and run.”

Cory scoffed, an unimpressed noise in the back of his throat. “Is that what you think? You don’t think I got back to New York with you consuming my entire brain? With my cock hard and my ass sore and your name still fresh on the tip of my tongue?”

“I…”

“As soon as I got home, I took the thickest toy I could find in my closet and shoved it so far up my ass it almost made me cry, Reese, and it was nowhere near as good as the real thing. I got on my knees and jacked myself off, fucking myself on this toy like it was anywhere near enough to sate the need you awakened inside of me.”

He tapped his hand against his chest, staring up at me with such a calm kind of clarity, it was impossible to not feel some of it wash over me as well.

“I didn’t know,” I whispered, because there wasn’t anything else to say. Telling him how I’d done the same things felt lacking in the wake of his bombshell confession. I still hated it seemedeffortless for him to admit, but it did level the playing field for me.

At least, a little.

“Nothing about this is easy.” He repeated the sentiment, threading his fingers together behind his head and sinking to his knees in front of me. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want it. And it doesn’t mean I won’t take it.”

CHAPTER 4

Cory

I wonderedif he thought it was some sort of trick, the way I fell to my knees so easily for him, hands behind my head as though I’d surrendered. Surrender wasn’t what went through my head when I did these things. Nor were they any type of ruse or deceit. In the moment, they were what felt right. They were things he needed from me. If not control, he needed the option.

He looked down at me, exhaustion etched into his features. I wanted to smooth it away. Reese had likely been tangled up in himself before he met me, but I’ll admit that I was pleased to know it was me who so thoroughly upended him. It was me who kicked a door open inside of him that he couldn’t get to close again.

It made things even between us. In Reese, there was something I craved. Something I couldn’t name, but had to have. It wasn’t as easy as winning his submission. I didn’t want him to bend to me so readily. Reese would always have that glimmer of dominance in him and I didn’t want to snuff it out.

“Limits.” His voice was thick with lust and fatigue. Anticipation and maybe a hint of dread, like he expected the tables to be turned on him at any moment.

Opening my eyes, I looked up at him and watched the contours of his mouth when I spoke. The tightness of his lips increased with every word. “Condoms. No marks that a suit can’t conceal. And you let me look after you when we’re done.”

Unease flickered in his eyes. His grip loosened, only momentarily. “Aftercare is your limit?”

My gaze was unmovable. “Yes.”

The only sign that Reese agreed to my limits was the rasp of his zipper as he dragged it down to free his cock. It was leaking when he pulled it out, and though I wanted to drink in the sight of it, I kept my stare turned up, pinned to his face.

“Good boy,” I told him as he closed his fist around the base of his dick and aimed it at my face. His jaw twitched as though he hated hearing that. Or hated that he loved it. I’d ask about that later, but for now, I parted my lips, stuck out my tongue, and waited for him to decide what he wanted from my mouth.