Page 138 of I'm Your Guy
I think I hear him snickering as we end the call.
Tommaso and I arrive back at Red Rock Circle at around the same time. He gives me a smile as he unlocks the door, and I’m glad to see that he’s not too sad.
“You probably have to pack, right?” I ask as I take off my coat and hang it in the closet. “Your flight is tonight?”
“Yeah. I guess,” he says, tossing his own coat onto a chair. “There’s something else I need to do first.”
“What’s that?”
“I’ll show you. Come on.” He turns on his heel, crosses to the stairs, and begins to climb.
I hurry after him. By the time I get into the bedroom, he’s already stripping off his clothes.
“Oh, I see how it is.”
He pushes me down on the bed, and his kiss is molten.
My body responds the way a cheerleader responds to a touchdown. “You sure you’ve got time for this?”
He shuts me up with a kiss and reaches for my fly.
FIFTY
Tommaso
I’m practically manhandling him, but Carter is into it. Not five minutes later I’ve got both of us naked. I’m kneeling over his chest and grabbing the headboard. Feeding him my dick.
The heat of his mouth makes me close my eyes and groan. And when I back off to let him breathe, he says, “Force me a little. I like it.”
I groan again. He has no idea what he does to me. I tease him instead, tracing his lips with my cockhead.
“You tease.”
I have my reasons. If I go full-throttle, I won’t last longer than a minute. But this is a good problem to have. The best problem.
After torturing him a little longer, I flip my body around like a wrestler so I can go down on him. I slide his hard length along my tongue as he moans his approval. Then I nudge my own cock between his lips and sink into the wet heaven of his mouth.
I close my eyes and let the moment overtake me. I’ll need to carry this memory with me while I’m gone. To remember how good it feels to let myself go for once in my life. To let myself fly, without judgement.
My own, or anyone else’s.
* * *
As we catch our breath, we’re on the wrong end of the bed, our feet on the pillows. Panting and spent.
He flops a hand onto my hip. “You nervous about the trip?”
“Is it obvious?”
He chuckles. “I’d be nervous too. If it were my relatives who wanted to pound me into the ground.”
“I’m not afraid of their fists. But I don’t know how to stop dreading their toxic bullshit.”
He takes my hand and holds it. “There’s no excuse for the way they act. But try to remember that toxic people aren’t happy people.”
“I believe that,” I say grudgingly.
“Tell me this,” he says. “Of all the crap that might go down tomorrow night, what would make them the most unhappy? What’s the worst outcome for Marco?”
