Page 59 of Pumped

Then he dips his hand into my boxers and draws me out. It’s pure relief and pure torture at the same time. His fingers are abrand on my cock, searing me through. I’m on fire, every inch of me smoldering and sizzling because of Owen’s touch.

It’s always like this with us. Hot. Scorching. Almost too much to bear. It’s like I’m dry kindling and he’s a lit match, and the second we touch, it’s a fucking inferno.

He pushes his pajama pants down, releasing himself, then takes both of us in his steady, dexterous hand. He wields the damn thing like a fucking scalpel, with precision and control. Always the exact amount of pressure at the exact right angle to drive me out of my mind with pleasure.

He rubs us together, our pre-cum mixing and easing the way. He thrusts his hips and the head of his cock bumps against the underside of my mine. My whole body tenses from the rush of electricity that races through me.

I scissor my fingers inside Owen’s body. I curl them and tug on the ring of muscle as it pulses.

“Motherfucker,” he mutters as a gush of pre-cum lands hot on my stomach. “Put in another.”

I pull my hand free so I can line up three fingers. It’s a tight fit and Owen bites on my shoulder as he bears down on the intrusion. When I’m in as far as I can go, we still, breathing hard, hovering on the brink.

“What are you waiting for, asshole? Fuck me already.” He twists his hand around the tips of both our cocks.

I bite on his ear to stifle my moan.

He bites my neck.

I finger-fuck his hole.

He grinds our dicks together so good, I see fucking stars.

We go at each other, frantic with need, racing toward the finish line, except I don’t know who the winner is supposed to be: the one who comes first or the one who hangs on for longer.

It doesn’t matter in the end, because I come a microsecond after Owen does. He slams his lips against mine and we groan into each other’s mouths as we come all over my stomach.

My fingers pump in and out of his ass while his hand flies up and down our cocks. We ride out our orgasms until we’re both sensitive and tender and totally wrung out.

Carefully, I extract my fingers from Owen’s ass and he slides to one side, head on my shoulder, one leg still hooked over mine. When we’ve caught our breath, Owen pulls his shirt off and uses it to wipe up our cum. I take mine off too and throw the extra cushions off the couch.

Then we come back together, wrapping our arms around each other, legs fitting together like puzzle pieces. Our heads are on the same pillow. Noses an inch apart.

Owen’s eyes are shut and I take the moment to soak him in. Dark lashes fan across his high cheekbones. His beard is short, but it’s enough to soften the stern vibe he gives off. His lips are pink and puffy.

My heart skips a beat. I need him. Not just to help cover the bills or to raise Ivy together. Ineedhim.Ineed him. He’s gone from a fucking pain in my ass to an absolutely essential part of my every day life.

I draw Owen closer, wrapping my body around his. He stirs but doesn’t struggle to pull away. I close my eyes, taking comfort in his solid mass, his weight, his scent.

He’s my safety net, my life preserver in this scary, terrifying world. He gives me strength and courage, even when I didn’t realize I needed it. He fixes my mistakes and makes sure everything is done right.

I don’t know what these feelings mean. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, like I wouldn’t be able to live without his steady presence, so grounding and unwavering. Like a piece of me would die if I lost him.

CHAPTER

TWENTY-TWO

OWEN

The sky is just brightening when I awake, and for a second, I panic when I can’t remember where I am. This isn’t my bed. This isn’t my bedroom. There’s someone in the bed with me.

Then I remember. I’m at Mom and Dad’s house. In the basement. With Everest. The panic doesn’t fade. It just transforms. Wide awake, I stare up at the ceiling.

Something is happening between us that I never foresaw, that I couldn’t have predicted, that I don’t fully understand. It’s not just the physical aspect of our relationship. In fact, that part is probably the most straightforward. I’ve always been physically attracted to Everest and him to me. We’ve always known we were compatible in bed.

It’s all the rest of it. The way he occupies every nook and cranny of my mind. How I crave his presence, his touch, the sound of his voice. How my first instinct is always to turn to him. I’ve never depended upon anyone like this before. I’ve never needed anyone so fundamentally. I’ve never felt like I’m only one half of a whole.

That’s terrifying.

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