Page 35 of Just Like You
We walked back to our room, his finger hooked in mine. Like we were a couple, when we clearly weren’t. I knew that. Understood how this worked.
“I want to…” I said, feeling my face once again take on blood. The darkness of the outside had made me brave, yet now I was suddenly bathed in the stark light from the ceiling as Julian was pressing all the buttons, trying to get the fan on and the light right. And I was just standing here in my flimsy shorts and a shirt that had curry down the front, and I wanted. I wanted so much.
“I know you said your arse needed a break, but can I at least…”
“You can do anything you want,” he said softly. “As long as I can walk tomorrow.”
“Be careful what you’re asking for,” I warned. I didn’t mean it like that, but…
“I trust you,” he said.
I swallowed. Hard.
“Not many people trust me,” I admitted. “I’m not always a good person.”
“I think you are. You haven’t given me any reason not to trust you. You’ve been honest and open about what you want and who you are, and I respect that. You have also been careful and respectful with my body, my needs and my wants. That is a massive green flag in my book.”
Wow.
“Not that I am ready to propose, Ki. You get that, right?” He said that part too fast, like he was taking all the words right back, when I knew he wasn’t. Alcohol and happiness made you loose-lipped, but he had meant every word. I could tell from the look on his face. The way he was trying to take it all back with every strained breath, when he couldn’t.
“I get that. I like you, Julian. And I will never do anything to hurt you.”
“That’s a big promise, Ki.”
It was. And my insides felt like they were turning themselves inside and out. But in that moment? I could see all the solutions. The future I wanted had blinded me.
I was allergic to reality, and somehow? I needed to find an antidote to that.
Chapter Eleven
Julian
Ihadn’t lied when I’d said he knew what he was doing and, despite me again having failed to get myself douched and prepared, I was now spread eagle down on the bed, my legs so wide apart that I was getting cramps, yet I was too blissed out to care. Because he had his tongue up my arse, and his large hands spreading my arse cheeks apart, and he was humming in between every prod at my insides. Lapping me up as I yelped and whined and spasmed and struggled to find a position where he could get deeper.
“Love how you taste. So bloody hot.”
“I hope you haven’t got any chilli on your tongue. Those skewers were covered in them.”
He laughed softly.
“Spicy.”
“Spicy arse is no fun. Trust me.”
“Speaking from experience, Julian?”
He rose up, and I turned around so I was lying on my back, revelling in watching him remove his clothes. That broad, hairy chest on him. The firm stomach. His cock standing proud and erect as he just smiled.
“You’re beautiful,” he said.
“I’m nothing like you. No hair, not a hint of muscle, and I’m small and skinny.”
“Nothing bad about that. You’re just who you are, and I think you’re stunning.”
“Why me?” I sounded like a kid, but he stood himself up next to the bed and stepped out of the last of his clothes.
“Because I looked at you, and you saw me. You didn’t care who I was, you saw through all the… I don’t know. What did you call it? Masking? You saw me. And then you called me out, and you were just so strong and defiant, and I just wanted to wrap you up and hold you and apologise for being a dick and…and…then things happened and you let me and it just felt… Everything felt right. I’d never had that feeling before, so…”
