Page 120 of Paper Roses

“Well, I’m sorry it took so long. I’ve been blind. I even kidded myself that these hours we’ve been spending together are just about being friends, when, in reality, the moment you left, mywhole world turned grey, and I needed to experience full colour again even if only once a week. Will you forgive me?”

“Of course I do,” I say steadily. “And I’d rather like you to kiss me again.”

And then I’m in his arms. Rain pours down on us as he kisses me. His lips are warm in the cold, and water slicks us, but we don’t care as we kiss on the street, taking our second chance in the same street where David Bowie found his.

seventeen

. . .

artie

We burst into the flat, kissing furiously. Shoes are kicked off, and wet clothes fall to the floor with a splat as hands move, caressing rain-chilled skin.

“I like your flat,” he gasps between kisses as he fumbles with the button on my jeans.

“Name one feature of it.” I moan as he takes my cock in his hand and strokes, the coldness of his hand rapidly heating from my hot flesh.

“You’re naked and in it.”

I laugh, but it fades to a moan as he kisses me and cups my arse, lifting me in one swift move. I wrap my legs around him, rubbing my cock against his as he carries me into the bedroom. He tumbles me onto the bed and follows me down.

It’s fast and furious and full of laughter and groans, but when he’s finally inside me, he slows, stirring his hips as he gazes down at me.

“You,” he says, a wealth of wonder in his voice that makes my throat tighten. “Hello, my love.”

I sniff and brush his hair back, my fingers caressing the stark beauty of his face. “Welcome home, Jed.”

I come awake slowly. I’m warm and feel wonderfully sore inside, like I’ve been used well. I stretch and force my eyes open. I’m lying pressed into Jed’s side. One of his arms is around me, my head is cushioned on his shoulder, and his hand is carding absentmindedly through my hair. The other hand is holding a book that he’s looking at intently.

“What are you reading?” I say hoarsely.

He turns, and his smile is tender and so full of love. “You slept well, sweetheart,” he says, kissing my nose.

“That’s because you were here.”

He looks almost shyly pleased, and I lift up for a proper kiss, and he obliges. When he pulls away, my head is bleary, and my dick is hard. I stretch, pulling him down to me, his book tumbling away, forgotten.

He chuckles, and the next few minutes are spent in lazy, sated kisses that soon grow more heated. I groan as he pulls away. “No, stay. I want you.”

He smiles, and it’s a glorious sight. He’s in my bed naked and looking rumpled and so sexy and allmine. “I want to do something.”

“Is it sexual?” I ask hopefully, and he laughs.

“Not yet, and hopefully, it won’t turn sexual as quickly as it usually does between the two of us. I don’t fancy serving a sentence in a German prison for lewd behaviour.”

“Well, now my cock is hard, and I’m curious. It’s an uncomfortable dichotomy.”

He bursts out laughing and kisses me again. “Get up,” he says, bounding out of bed.

I admire his muscular arse, and when he turns, his hair-roughened chest and spectacular abs.

He winks and begins a sexy strut across the floor. “I feel like I should be wearing something you could stuff money into.”

I start to laugh. “Come closer. I’m sure I can find somewhere to put the notes.”

He claps a hand to his cheek. “You’ll make me blush.”

I roll my eyes. “I sincerely doubt that. You’ve done too much in your life to be shy.”

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