Page 131 of I'm Your Guy
He barks out a laugh. “God, can you just picture it?”
“I can, actually.” This idea might be better than I’d first thought. “The cool thing is that you’re not making it about you. It’s a cause that your team is focused on right now. So you tell your publicist that you’ve decided to donate… whatever amount a rich athlete gives to charity. But you want to make it a family affair.”
Tommaso goes quiet for a long moment. And then he suddenly rolls on top of me, braces his forearms on the bed, and looks down into my startled face. “You are a fucking genius.”
“It’s just an idea…”
“No, it’s perfect. My team publicist would eat that up with a spoon. Tate would get off my back. And when Marco and Vin say no, then he’ll understand how they really are.”
“You sure they’ll say no?”
“Very sure. They think standing next to a check for queer charities would singe their dicks right off.”
I laugh at the image. But then I stop laughing, because Tommaso leans down, all muscular shoulders and dark-eyed attitude, and he kisses the living daylights out of me.
FORTY-SEVEN
Tommaso
Our kisses quickly get heated, and I could swear there are actual flames licking my body.
That’s how it always is with Carter. I touch him, and my brain starts to melt. Everything is magic. Sifting his soft hair through my fingers, I tilt my head just right to taste him more deeply.
He has no idea. Really no idea how much I care about him. His laughing eyes. His big ideas. And the bone-deep certainty that I could wake up next to him for the rest of my life and still find him fascinating every single day.
Maybe he’s not there yet. Maybe he needs time. I’m not going to talk him to death about it. Not when I have a better weapon: sex. Carter loves sex. When I kiss his neck, he stops worrying. And when I fuck his mouth with my tongue, he stops telling me all the ways he’s screwed up his life.
When he grabs my shoulders, that’s how I know he’s really turned on. As if he thinks I’ll sneak away if he doesn’t hang on tightly enough to my body. And just to make sure, he also pins my hips between two muscular knees. So I can’t run away.
Not that I ever would.
“Lube?” he asks between kisses. “Got any?”
“Sure.” Like I haven’t been storing condoms and lube in the bedside table, just in case we needed them.
I haven’t pushed for this, though. I wanted him to say he wanted it.
I wanted him to say he wanted me.
And here we go. I’m handing him the bottle, and he’s slicking up his fingers.
My voice is a hoarse whisper. “Show me.”
He does. He’s all long limbs and tensed muscles as he penetrates himself with a glistening finger. “Like this.”
My whole body tightens with lust as I watch him.
“My turn.” I’m so keyed up I almost spill the lube. But then I’m stroking and stretching him. He hisses and curses as I slowly open him up.
The anticipation is killing me. When I roll on the condom, I’m so hard I’m leaking.
So is he. I lower my mouth and tease his body with kisses. Everywhere. Until he’s squirming against me. Riding my fingers.
“God God God,” he babbles. “Do it. Now.”
“You sure you’re ready?”
His response is a moan.
