Page 47 of Finding Michael

“Already planned on it.” If he wasn’t careful, he’d fall asleep standing up.

Tristan cuddled against Michael’s leg. “I’ve been looking for you all of my life.” He kissed Michael’s thigh. “Someone who likes my nervousness, my love of books and over-usage of the word love…who makes me laugh and is good in bed.”

Michael petted Tristan’s hair. “All you had to do was come home to Sullavan, I guess.”

“Yeah.” He gazed up at Michael. “I wanted to sort things tonight, but I’d rather tangle up with you on the couch a while.”

“Let’s do that.” He helped Tristan to his feet, then stripped the rest of the way out of his clothes. He could have sex bent over the sofa later. There wasn’t a rush. Once Tristan stretched out on the cushions, Michael joined him.

“Wait. I want to be on top.” Tristan scooted out from under Michael, then rested on him. He snuggled against Michael’s shoulder.

Michael caressed Tristan’s arm. The moment was so quaint and perfect. The single lamp illuminating the room bathed the space in warm yellow light. Michael could get used to this—the couple-ness of the moment. He closed his eyes. Weariness overwhelmed him.

“Let me power-nap. Afterwards, we can have all the sex we want,” Tristan murmured. He kissed Michael’s pecs. “You’re all mine.”

Michael wanted to answer, but didn’t. His? He should have been up in arms, but the moment of panic faded. Yeah, he was Tristan’s. They were good together and the fear didn’t have to be palpable. He had Tristan right now…and sex to come. Not a bad gig for a librarian who hadn’t expected to fall for a writer. Not bad at all.

* * * *

Tristan rolled his shoulders and crinkled his nose. Sleeping on Michael wasn’t the best for his back, but it was perfect for his soul. He liked being so close to his lover. To hear Michael’s breathing and feel his soft skin. He splayed his hand on Michael’s ribcage. The first fingers of sunlight stretched across the carpet. He could wake up like this every day and be happy. He noticed something blinking.

Fuck me.Tristan crawled off Michael and stood. He stretched, then rubbed his face. Why did the phone have to blink and dick with his perfect morning? He swiped his fingers across the screen. According to the icons, he had at least one email, a voicemail and a text. He tapped the email first. From his Aunt Salina…of course.

Don’t forget the party is in two weeks. You haven’t RSVPed. I expect you to be there. With your standing, you’re important. Jean misses you.

No signature. No love. Just bluntness from his aunt. His cousin didn’t care about him.Good God.He couldn’t remember the last time he’d talked to Jean. Probably the last time he’d called her Babsy in her presence and she’d told him to fuck himself.

Tristan deleted the email. If he happened to be in New York around the time of the party, he might pop in, but then again, he might not.

He switched his attention to the texts. No subject.What the hell?He didn’t open the messages, but rather only read the previews.

You’re not writing.

Who was this person? The stalker?

Why aren’t you writing?

He couldn’t hide his irritation. The fan must’ve found his phone number. He archived the messages and debated his next move. Calling the cops would be smart, but what would he tell them? He’d been pestered? Bothered? They wouldn’t investigate irritating emails and texts. They’d tell him, like they’d said in New York, to get a new phone number.

He shook his head and dialed the numbers to retrieve the voicemail. He knew the number. Dennis.

“Hi, Tristan,” Dennis said in the message. “I’m passing along information. I doubt you’ll care, but your aunt can’t say I didn’t try. Number one, your cousin’s engagement party is in two weeks and you should let them know if you’re attending. Number two, your agent called the apartment. The outline is good and she’d like you to move forward. I’m not sure if she contacted you, but now you know. Number three, Cody stopped by. He claims he’s moving in. I prevented him from doing so. Might I suggest you come home so you can sort out your affairs? Your vacation to deal with your uncle’s things should be about over. Your friends think you’ve abandoned them. I hope you’re getting everything accomplished and life can get back to normal soon.”

Tristan stared at the phone. The message was the most Dennis had ever said. He sighed. Cody could look elsewhere for a free place to crash. Unless something drastic happened, he had little intention of attending the engagement party. Auntie Salina and Babsy weren’t going to con a fancy gift out of him. The rest of the family would surely shower them with presents.

He erased the voicemail. He had to focus on his current situation. The agent wanted him to keep going with his manuscript. Good. He and Michael could create a schedule. He’d work and write while Michael was at the library. Afterwards, they’d fuck until they dropped. If he had a more constant situation, he’d have the book done in no time. Then he’d focus on advancing the relationship with Michael.

“Hey.” Michael sat up. His hair stood on end and red infused his cheeks. He blinked. “I fell asleep.”

“We both did.” He abandoned his phone. “Good food and orgasms tend to make one tired.”

“Yeah. I guess so.” Michael’s dick stood tall. He chuckled. “I’ve got a boner.”

“That tends to happen.” He wanted to wrap his lips around that cock and suck him until Michael cried out his name. “Why’s a boner funny?”

“I haven’t woken up this way since the last time we slept together.” Michael stretched. “I was beginning to think my dick didn’t work.”

This time, Tristan chuckled. “Then I showed up and overused it.” He strode over to the back of the couch and waggled his ass. “Speaking of using…I’ve got a place you can stick that morning wood.”

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