Page 9 of The Year of Us: July

Cory

“How do you even know how to cook? Don’t you live out of airplanes and hotels?” Reese snarked as I stacked a bunch of ingredients on the counter. Our shopping trip was successful, and his cupboards and fridge were now well stocked.

I motioned to the sink. “Wash your hands, Reese. And I know how to cook because once upon a time I didn’t live on airplane food and room service.”

“If you’re cooking, why am I washing my hands?” Reese asked as he turned the tap on.

“Because I’m going to talk you through it.”

He dropped his head forward and let out a strange sound, like a helpless animal caught in a trap. Then he turned to face me, his eyes narrowed. “Why did that sound like foreplay?”

“Because it is.” I perched on the stool on the other side of the counter. The small apartment had a galley-style kitchen with a small island and room for two stools on the other side.

“Now that your hands are washed, chop the crown of broccoli into florets and then set that aside.”

“You know the place down the street sells beef and broccoli,” Reese said, but he did as he was told. Getting a knife and a cutting board out, he got to work chopping the broccoli. “How did you learn to cook?”

“Trial and error, mostly. Cooking wasn’t something my parents did. I ate out a lot growing up. I learned in college. Can you cook?”

“I can if I want to. I just don’t normally want to.” He flicked his gaze up to meet mine, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips.

“It’s different when you have someone to share it with.”

“Something like that,” Reese replied. Scraping the broccoli into a bowl, he set it aside. “Now what?”

I talked him through the rest of the process. Slicing and marinating the beef, cooking the pasta. When to add the broccoli so it didn’t get overcooked.

He dished us up and we ate side by side at the counter. We were angled toward each other so our knees bumped every so often.

“I’m sorry my place is so small.”

“I’m not,” I told him. “It means you’re always close by.”

Reese rolled his eyes, but I saw how pleased he was by my comment. “This was really good,” he said, as a way to steer the conversation away from himself.

“Of course it was. You followed my instructions spectacularly well.”

Reese’s gaze flashed. He loved being good for me. I’d watched the way he responded to praise right from the very beginning. It was his catnip. His Achilles’ heel. “Go sit on the bed, Reese. Feet on the floor.”

stood and took our empty plates to the sink.

When I turned around, he was waiting for me like a good boy, his hands folded in his lap.

They lacked the tension they sometimes did when he was too in his head about things.

He wasn’t at peace, but he was loose and comfortable.

Pride bloomed in my chest when I looked at him, and I crossed the distance in a couple of steps.

Leaning down, I slid my hands into his hair and tilted his head back. I brought our mouths together in a soft kiss. Gently, I slid my tongue between his waiting lips and quietly devoured him.

By the time I stood up again, I was hard as a rock, and Reese’s situation was no better.

“Undo my pants,” I told him, my voice quiet but firm, the way I knew affected him the most.

Reese reached up and undid my fly, then stopped, hands hovering at my waist, fighting the urge to pull my pants down, or take my dick out, or do other things he hadn’t yet been told to do.

“Take my pants down. Briefs too,” I added when he grabbed only my pants.

He pulled them down slowly, being careful to free my cock without touching it. It hung heavy and thick between my legs, rapidly filling. I was keenly aware of the way Reese studied it, hunger glinting in his eyes.

When my pants were down as far as Reese could get them, I braced myself on his shoulder and lifted one leg at a time so he could remove them. When I was naked from the waist down, he looked up at me and licked his lips.

“Now what?”

“Now I want you to take me over your knee and spank me.”

Reese blinked at me, his brow furrowed. “You…what?”

“Don’t you remember when you spanked me before? It was remarkable. You’re incredibly skilled at it, Reese. It would be a shame for me to go without such a divine experience. Do you think you can do that for me? Be my good boy and make it sting just the way I like it.”

“Jesus fuck.”

I wondered if it would be pushing my luck, but he’d said it once before and I ached to hear it again.

“Sir is fine.”

Reese snorted, rolling his eyes at me. We’d try again another day.

He reached for me without another word and brought me down to his lap. Draping me over his legs, he arranged my cock, so it wasn’t squished, and he pushed my shirt up out of the way.

“Are you comfortable?” he whispered hoarsely. I could feel the strength of his arousal poking at me from my position on his lap.

“Perfectly.”

“How many do you want?” Reese smoothed his hands down my back and over the cheeks of my exposed ass.

“I’ll let you know when you’re done.” Wriggling a bit to get comfortable, I let out a soft sigh. “You can begin now.”