Page 32 of Winging It with You

Late-night treats in hand, classic chocolate for him and a creamy hazelnut for me, Theo and I walk in a comfortable silence, admiring the grand architecture and charm of the Italian city.

I’ve never really had the chance to travel like this as an adult before these last few weeks—but as we turn down another bistro-lit and cobblestone road, I know this is a place I’ll spend the rest of my life longing to return to.

Between the passion for food and wine and the fact that there’s literally history around each and every corner, what more could one want?

“What are you thinking?” Theo asks, bumping me with his shoulder as he takes a bite of his gelato.

“That I like it here,” I say after a beat.

“I do too,” he says quietly, expertly tossing his empty gelato cup into a nearby trash bin. “We should come back. Just the two of us.”

“Just the two of us, huh?” I repeat, my mouth going dry at the mere thought of truly having him all to myself.

It’s both hard and incredibly easy to imagine.

Theo is so effortless to be around. But that would mean whatever this is has turned into something more, and I’m not sure either of us are ready to be there.

Or if he even wants that.

Still, the thought is intoxicating. “We should.”

“Mm-hmm,” he says, watching me intently as I take another small bite of my own gelato, trying to redirect my attention to something other than him. But I don’t think it’s doing anything to hide the grin that’s quickly growing. My lack of a poker face is less than helpful in times like this.

“Oh. Here,” he says, gently grabbing my arm and pulling me to a stop.

“You’ve got a little…” He turns to face me head-on, taking a step forward to close the space between us.

Theo reaches up, the pad of his thumb hovering ever so gently above my upper lip, and I’m pretty sure my limbs go completely numb.

With his hand soft against the side of my face, Theo slides his thumb across my lip, letting it linger slightly as our eyes meet. There’s a hunger behind his gaze, one that’s filled with questions and growing impatient. One that just might be tired of biding its time in the shadows.

“There,” he says, his voice a husky whisper. Theo removes his thumb from my lip and slowly slides it into his mouth.

For the briefest of moments, we’re both still.

Nothing happens. Perhaps we’re each trying to figure out the other’s next move.

In the middle of another foreign city, sleep-deprived, jet-lagged, and hornier than I think I’ve ever been in my life, I feel the battle between common sense and overwhelming lust coming to a head.

His eyes find mine—his eyes that have made me feel more seen over the last couple days than any ever have, and I no longer care if this complicates our silly pact.

My mind is filled with one all-encompassing desire: Theo.

I reach for him before I talk myself out of it. There’s still ample opportunity for either of us to walk away like nothing ever happened. To go back to the way things were and turn whatever chemistry is bubbling between us on only for the camera.

But we don’t.

His hands find my face again and cradle me as the final moments of hesitancy slip between us. I grip his waist with tense fingertips and it’s suddenly a race to see who can pull the other closer. The second we’re pressed against each other, the most delicious hum radiates in his chest.

Even if this is real—or as real as two horny pretend boyfriends can get—I remind myself it’s temporary. But there’s something exhilarating about living in the moment. Physically giving in to what I think my body’s wanted since Theo sauntered over to steal my mozzarella sticks.

The air around us has reached a breaking point, laced with electricity and longing and whispered finally s. And though neither one of us has said a word, our bodies have settled into a conversation all on their own.

Our lips brush, briefly at first, savoring each other’s sweetness. But the newness of kissing like this when it’s just for us draws us in deeper, and we quickly lose ourselves in a dance of frenzied hands, rolled hips, and muffled oh my god s .

“Our rules…” Theo breathes against my lips.

I hadn’t realized we’d slowly been moving backward until my back firmly presses against a brick wall.

My skin feels like it’s been set ablaze under his touch.

The warmth of his grip around my wrist, his other hand clawing tightly at my waist. The burn from his scruff as his lips learn the shape of mine, taking his time to memorize every line and dip.

I gasp against his kiss when he shifts his erection against mine, rocking me deeper into a blissful oblivion I’d have no problem never leaving.

“Forget them,” I think I hear myself say, which feels both nothing like me and also the most honest thing I’ve said aloud in a really long time.

“Mmm, good,” he says, his mouth trailing along my neck and back again until his lips are at my ear. “I need to get you home.” My stomach does a backflip hearing him call our hotel room that.

“Here’s fine,” I breathe, locking my fingers in the thick hair at the base of his neck, arching into him and bringing his lips to mine once more.

He slides his hand from my waist down the front of my jeans, and grabs my straining cock with a squeeze. “What I want to do to you requires a little more privacy.” Theo laughs against my mouth, a deep, throaty sound that I don’t think I’ll ever grow tired of hearing.

Especially like this.

Fuck.

He breaks away, and every nerve ending screams in protest. “Come on,” he says, pulling my hand after him.

We zigzag through the streets, backtracking to the hotel as quickly as two nonlocals can, stopping every so often to press against whatever surface is available, our lips claiming each other in the briefest, most desperate of ways.

What a sight we must be—a pair of American fools, all clumsy hands and hurried tongues, so obviously drunk in lust and lost in the magic of the city.

The hotel comes into view as we round a final corner, and we cross the marbled lobby, stepping into the elevator bank.

Both of Theo’s hands grip my wrist, an inescapable vise as he presses his cock against my ass, and my lips are back on his the second we’re behind elevator doors.

When the door to our hotel room is firmly shut behind us, Theo wastes no time pushing me against it, his hands and mouth and hips now moving in sync.

One second, he’s drawn me back to his mouth, our tongues dancing between ragged breaths, and the next, he’s dragging his fingertips down my chest, lowering to his knees as he unfastens my jeans.

“Can I?” he asks, looking up at me with fire behind hooded eyes as one hand massages my bulge over my jeans, the other trailing slowly just beneath the band of my briefs.

My brain wrestles to form a coherent thought, but the sight of him on his knees before me, his full lips parted and chest rising, is too much. I nod.

He slides the hem of my shirt up, exposing a whole new area of skin he has yet to touch.

He trails his fingertips, then his lips, across my hip bone, slowly and with intention, like he’s committing every inch of me to memory.

My hands instinctively wind themselves into his hair, begging to have him closer.

Theo’s teasing me now as his mouth drags lower and lower.

His hot breath following every swath of skin his tongue has just skimmed over sends waves of goose bumps under his touch.

Having been at odds this entire time, my mind and body seem to finally come to some kind of mutual agreement. “Please,” I pant, arching into the doorway, and Theo’s fingers dip behind my briefs. “Please, Theo.”

He grips my hips, squeezing so tightly I hope I’ll be marked by his touch forever as he traces the lines of my body with his tongue.

He slides my jeans and trunks down, freeing my cock and finally ending his relentless torture.

Theo looks up at me, his eyes dark and hungrier than before.

Without breaking eye contact, he places soft kisses, one after the other, on my tip.

But when they start to linger, his wet lips sliding open and his tongue tracing the shape of me, a groan of desire escaping from his chest, I nearly black out.

“You’re perfect,” he breathes, his breath dancing on my skin.

Theo takes me fully in his mouth, slowly at first, but then like a man driven by an innate need to please.

His hands squeeze my ass, pulling me deeper down his throat with seemingly little to no effort, and I know that after what has felt like an eternity of teasing, his expert mouth won’t allow me to last long.

“Oh, fuck,” I hiss, or at least I think I do, because the way he’s slurping down my dick has officially scrambled any hold I had on reality. Each glide of his tongue brings me one second closer to the edge.

My breathing is erratic, and my vision is starting to blur as the primal urge to finish builds around me. “That mouth…” I pant, thrusting my hips forward to meet him.

Theo must sense I’m getting close, his movements laced with a selfless enthusiasm, and just before each and every strand that’s keeping me firmly planted in this moment is snipped, he slides a finger, slick from his spit, against my ass, a torturous addition to the most delicious and unforeseen crescendo.

“I’m not finished with you just yet, Ash,” Theo says slowly, his voice just a whisper, after trailing the length of my shaft with his warm tongue.

I want to scream, ask him how he has the audacity to drag me to the brink of ecstasy like this only to inform me I’m not allowed to go barreling over that cliff.