Page 62 of Tides of Change
Ethan rummaged in his bag and pulled out a neatly folded pair of flannel pants and a T-shirt, then disappeared into thebathroom. The door clicked shut, and a moment later, the sound of running water filled the quiet bedroom.
I exhaled, ran a hand through my hair, and pulled open my dresser drawer. I traded the boxer briefs I usually slept in for a pair of soft sleep pants. A tiny smile tugged at the corner of my mouth as I thought about Ethan’s reaction if I chose otherwise.
The bathroom door creaked open, and Ethan stepped out, mint toothpaste scenting the air. He wore flannel pants similar to mine and a faded T-shirt that clung to his frame, worn from years of washes. The sight of him, casual and unguarded, made my chest tighten in a way that had nothing to do with exhaustion.
I cleared my throat, slipped into the bathroom, and closed the door behind me. Leaning on the counter, I caught my reflection in the mirror, and my gaze locked on the shadow of stubble along my jawline. Determination set my features. Tonight, I’d ask for what I wanted—for more. And if Ethan said no, I’d take it in stride. No pressure, no harm, no foul.
I finished my routine and returned to the bedroom.
Ethan stood at the foot of the bed, hands on his hips, studying the neatly turned-down covers. “Which side is yours?” He glanced at me with an almost shy smile.
I gestured to the left. “Closest to the door. Easier for Noah to find me when he has a bad dream.”
Ethan nodded, his face softening. “Makes sense,” he murmured. He circled the bed and slipped beneath the covers with a sigh that seemed to come from the very depths of his soul.
I turned off the light and slid into bed beside him, the cool sheets quickly warming as I settled on my side. I hesitated for a beat, my heart thundering, then shifted closer and spooned him. “This okay?” I asked hesitantly.
For a moment, he didn’t reply, and I wondered if I’d overstepped. But then he relaxed against me, his body melting into mine, and he murmured, “Mm-hmm.”
The soft sound of his approval sent a rush of relief through me. He snuggled closer, pressed his ass against my hard groin, and let out a soft moan.
I had my answer. He wanted more, too.
I kissed the nape of his neck, and he stretched to give me better access. I slid my hand from his waist to the hem of his T-shirt and slipped it underneath. Warm, firm abs tightened beneath my touch. My hand roamed to a pebbled nipple, which I tweaked between my thumb and forefinger. He hissed in pleasure.
“Are we wearing too many clothes?” I whispered in his ear.
In answer, he sat up, whipped off his T-shirt, and tossed it…somewhere. His pants and boxer briefs followed, freeing his hard cock.
The sight in the dim light made my dick ache, and all I could think about was my mouth on his erection. I’d never done that before, but heat pooled in my belly. I wanted to try. For him.
And selfishly, for me.
I shucked my clothes in record time to the music of Ethan’s chuckle.
I pushed him flat on his back, my gaze on his dick. I licked my lips. “I’ve never sucked a guy before, but can I try it? I’ll do my best to make it good for you.”
He groaned and stroked himself. “Just watch your teeth, and you can’t do it wrong.”
I batted his hand away. “Mine.” I spread his legs, settled between his thighs, and lightly gripped his penis. I tenderly licked around the head and blew on the damp skin. He pulled in a sharp breath. Empowered, I sucked, licked, stroked, and gently pulled on his balls until he was making nonsensical noises andfucking my mouth. I gagged, and he backed off, but I could tell the effort to keep still cost him. He clenched his fists at his sides and panted.
“Oh God, Garrett,” he moaned. “You’re doing so good,” he praised. “Pull off. I’m gonna…” He tapped my shoulder.
I doubled down, wanting him to come in my mouth. Wanting the intimacy. The connection. A moment later, he spurted onto my tongue, the taste salty and slightly bitter.
I couldn’t stand the pressure in my balls anymore. I quickly pulled off his dick, rose to my knees, and jacked myself. I came in long ropes onto his stomach. “Fudge.” I collapsed onto my elbows, gasping. “That was…”
He ran his hands along my shoulders. “I know.”
I felt like I’d run a marathon, but I climbed off the bed. I cleaned myself up in the bathroom and wet a washcloth with warm water. I returned to the bedroom and took care of Ethan, finding satisfaction in the act. I threw the cloth toward the hamper and climbed back into bed, spooning him once again.
The soft sound of his approval sent a rush through me. He cuddled closer, his shoulders pressing against my chest. I tightened my arm around him and held him there.
Despite the fear and uncertainty that still loomed over us, in this moment, we were together. And that was enough for the night.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Ethan
