Page 20 of Second Song

Or is that a no-go signal?

“Row?” I rub a reddening handprint I’ve left over flames and feathers and mutter, “Sorry. Don’t know my own strength.”

“No.” His answer is breathy. “I like—” I hear him swallow. “I like knowing you’re there. Here. With me.”

I don’t let him doubt that. I slick my dick and run its full length through his crease again, the head of my cock so close to where it wants in. He squirms, my dick catching where he gives a little, and that’s so tempting it almost hurts to shift until I’m between his thighs again. He reaches back, and now that he’s silent, his hold on my hip the only clue he’s into me fucking through them. Who knows why that makes me chatty.

“Knew you’d get it.” I reach around to give his cock something tight and slick to slip through. I also pull him upright. “Knew you’d dig deep and find more of that grit.”

“Get it?”

His thighs are perfect clamped around me. They squeeze what is more of a groan than a clear answer from me. “The job. The one you wanted.”

“At Glynn Harber?”

“Yeah. Knew you’d get to teach there.” Of course they took him. I mean, yes, I bawled him out for going after that lamb, but who wouldn’t want someone with his protective instincts around children? Got to respect the man if not the method. Plus, he was too happy when I saw him in the alley to be a loser. He looked like he’d scored the prize he wanted.

I also come to a decision.

I’ll message Dominic Dymond as soon as this is over.

Tell him I’ll squeeze in his project even if I have to slot it in around my other bookings.

I’ll give Rowan a safe building to work in. Someone’s got to keep him out of danger. Here’s a good example: he says, “No. I—” while twisting too far and we both overbalance.

Rowan rolls to face me on the mattress and we’re kissing again, pressed so close we could be back where this all started, only this time, we aren’t on a ledge above the ocean. We’re both bollock naked and horizontal.

At least that means I get to grasp one cheek again. His glute flexes as I clutch him, and he grinds against me, still kissing until I see stars behind my eyelids and hear a bomb-blast roar like the one that ended my military career and hasn’t let up since.

This one is even louder.

For once, I don’t want it to stop. Not when it comes with him hitching a leg over my hip and pushing, and I could push back but this doesn’t seem the right moment for a tussle, for a wrestling test of strength we both have to know I’d win without even trying. The payoff for letting him shove me where he wants me is worth it—he struggles upright, straddling me and smiling.

It’s wild how much I prefer that look on him, and I’ve never wanted inside anyone as much as I want inside him, until he shuffles back on my lap, making room to hold my cock upright. Then all I want is his mouth on me.

He bends over it, his breath coasting the head in quick, hot gusts, and here’s another of those pauses I guess are his thing.

Again, he doesn’t hurry.

No wonder he wants to be a teacher. He studies my dick like it’s a test question. I’m not about to quiz him. He can suck it anyway that suits him as long as he watches me while he does it, because those eyes? I slide off his glasses, and yeah, they’re exactly as wide as I remember after a lamb gave him woolly kisses and I wanted to do the same.

Now his breaths huff over part of me that feels close to combusting if he doesn’t crack on soon and suck it, only he retreats, and I’ve never been more pissed off that I lubed up early—that must be why he changes his mind about getting his mouth on me.

He looks up, his gaze back to that wide and wary I’m never going to forget, and now isn’t a time for him to worry. He’s experienced enough to know what works for him, and I only want him gagging on me in a good way, so I’ll deal with not getting blown this evening. Instead, I hook a hand under his arm and hoist him up the bed with me until my back is against the pillows.

He straddles me again there, only we’re both upright, and maybe I’m soft in the head for going back to kissing instead of rolling him onto his back and rubbing off hard and fast against him, but Rowan kisses like this is as good as full sex for him. He sucks on my tongue, and that’s better than I ever remember it feeling. He also grinds his cock against mine, his groan encouraging me to reach for the lube again. This time, I wrap a slick hand around both of us, and he trembles.

He trembles even harder when I reach around and score a tight bullseye. He’s also suddenly rigid, the tip of my finger against where he’d open if I pressed any harder, and we’re close enough that I see a flush spread and deepen. “Wait.” I check in. “You don’t take?”

I’ll live with his answer. It’s not as if I’m about to do him raw this evening. Or ever, an internal voice whispers. You’ll be long gone come September when the new school year starts.

I ignore that voice when Rowan shakes his head no. It’s a minute movement followed just as quickly by a nod, which is confusing enough that I have to ask this. “You know I’m not going to fuck you, right? Just play.” That flush deepens the moment I tag on another quick question. “You’ve done that before, right?”

At least this reply is instant. “Of course I have. I told you I’ve done everything.”

This probably isn’t the best time to take the piss, but he’s so fucking huffy, I can’t help it. “Everything? Just how old are you? Because I’m almost thirty but I’m pretty sure there are still a few things I haven’t done yet in bed.” This kind of easy teasing is an example, which he joins in with.

“Well, maybe not everything, but I’ve done plenty. Want a list?” I love the way he tilts his chin up. I bet he did the same when I told him to throw that lamb down instead of up to me. He’s just as fearless while grabbing the lube. Just as snippy as when he told me No shit, Sherlock. “Only I’ve got to check out tomorrow morning, so if you do want a list, I better get started.”

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