Page 40 of Keeping it Casual
“Absolutely. Spectacular in every way.”
His smile fades. “That’s actually good to hear. Because I sometimes worry. You’ve had long-term partners…you’re an expert while I’m still stumbling my way through the first level.”
I huff a laugh, but it has no humor in it. “I’m definitely noexpert on gay sex. After all, my last boyfriend had to go outside our relationship to find satisfaction.”
Jeremy draws in a sharp breath. “Holy hell, Dustin, you’re saying that like it’s your fault.”
I flop onto my back, staring at the ceiling. “Sometimes it’s hard not to wonder what I did wrong.”
“What makes you think you did anything wrong?”
My mind fills with memories of Robbie and the argument we had when I caught him cheating, where he defended himself by listing all the ways I had disappointed him during our five years together.
“Because I wasn’t enough for him,” I say quietly.
“That’s complete and utter bullshit.” Jeremy’s voice is fierce. “You, Dustin, are enough for anyone. And if your ex didn’t realize he was the luckiest guy on the planet, well, that’s on him.”
He kisses me then, and it’s another sweet, lingering kiss. I can’t help but deepen it, sweeping my tongue into his mouth, saying with my body everything I can’t say aloud right now.
Jeremy’s expression is blissed out when he draws back.
But when he looks at the clock on my bedside table, his expression changes to horror.
“Oh holy fuck, I’ve got a patient in like…ten minutes.” He launches out of bed and starts frantically rummaging around for his clothes.
“Shit. I can’t exactly say I’m sorry, Mrs. Anderson. You’re going to have to continue to live with your tennis elbow untreated because I was off having epic, unbelievable sex,” he continues as he pulls his polo shirt over his head.
“Epic and unbelievable, huh?” I raise an eyebrow.
“Don’t let it go to your head.” He steps into his shorts and then comes forward, brushing a quick kiss over my lips. “Talk to you later, okay?”
Despite knowing that continuing this thing with Jeremy will only get me deeper and deeper into trouble, I can’t help returning his smile.
“Yeah, definitely. I’ll talk to you later.”
I spend the afternoon and evening alternating between wrangling with the government’s estuarine regulatory reforms and thinking about Jeremy.
Despite the fact I’m losing the battle to keep Jeremy in the friends-with-benefits territory, one of these things is definitely more pleasant than the other.
I take a break from working to make dinner for Lachie. I try to engage him in conversation at dinner time, but he’s fully in grunt mode tonight and appears determined to shovel food into his mouth like it could disappear at any second. I leave him to do the dishes as I head back to my office to do some more work.
Eventually, I finish my report around nine o’clock.
Lachie’s already retreated to his room, so I go into my bedroom, flop onto the bed, and pick up my phone to message Jeremy.
How did fixing Mrs. Anderson’s elbow go?
Jeremy’s reply is immediate.
Good. I have magic hands, remember?
Please don’t remind me of your magic hands when I’m lying in bed with sheets that smell like you.
They smell like me in a good way, right?
I laugh before I reply.
Definitely in a good way.
