Page 138 of Catching Kyle
I pause for a moment, then turn to the camera. “Be yourself,” I say. “No matter what other people say. I’ve found that it’s really the best way to live life.”
I glance over at Michael and gesture for him to join me. He comes over and I wrap my arm around him. I pull his head to mine and kiss him on the lips, then look back at the camera. “And then you might get as lucky as me,” I say. “Because now I have the man of my dreams.”
I kiss him one more time, then raise my fist in the air. People cheer around me, my chest burns hot. Not from shame or embarrassment or anxiety like it always has. But from joy.
I thank Robyn for all she’s done for me and give her a tight hug. Then I find Jessica.
“Thanks again,” I say to her. “You didn’t have to do this.”
She pats me on the arm. “It was fun,” she says. “I hope I find something like what you and Michael have.”
I hug her and kiss her on the top of her head. “I think you will.”
When the night’s over, I take Michael home. To my home. Because we’re fucking together now.
We’ve hardly made it past the laundry room before we’re all over each other.
“Careful,” I say, pulling away. “I stink.”
“Oh, Kyle Weaver,” Michael says. “This is a dream come true. Fucking a football player fresh after he wins the Championship Game?”
I smile and kiss him. “I missed you so much.”
“I missed you too,” he says. He rests his head against my chest while we stand in the kitchen, and I wrap my arms around him.
“Was that enough?” I ask.
He pulls away and gives me a quizzical look.
“Was that whole demonstration enough to show you that I love you?” I ask.
His face relaxes into a calm smile, and I can’t stop myself from kissing him again. When I pull away to look in his eyes, I swear I can see his face sparkling with joy.
“I don’t think you could have done it better,” he says.
“Good,” I say. “Because that was my last resort.”
He digs his face into my chest and kisses it. “Well now you have me,” he says, looking back up at me. “And now it’s my turn to show you how much I love you.”
My stomach jumps. “Please,” I say. “I’ve been craving the shit out of you.”
We can’t get to my room fast enough, and thankfully he mentions he’s clean sexually so we can get right to it. Michael manages to slip his clothes off in less than three seconds, which is honestly fucking impressive. I’m struggling to get my shirt off because of the sweat.
“Here,” Michael says. He helps me take it off, but before I know it, he’s got his face buried in my arm pit. I use my other arm to nuzzle him in there.
“God,” he says, coming up for air. “You are such a fucking man.”
I grab him and kiss him, turned on by my own musk on his face. “I’m your fucking man.”
And that turns him into a fucking animal.
He gets off my pants and pushes me onto the bed. He goes down on me, and I swear I’ve been transported to heaven. I don’t want to objectify Michael—he’s so much more than that. But the nice thing about dating a pornstar is he there is not one thing he can’t do well in the bedroom. And with the passion he brings to everything he does? I’m gonna have to build up my tolerance now that we’re officially together. Because it takes some effort not to cum quick.
He releases his hold just before I’m about to release and comes up to kiss me. He collapses into the crook of my arm and wraps himself around me, and I know that I couldn’t pull him off me if I tried.
Outside, snow is falling again, and Michael and I lounge here for a minute. Just soaking in the other’s presence. He takes in a deep whiff of my armpit, and his ecstatic moan afterwards gets me rock hard again.
“So this is the life we’re getting,” he says. “This forever?”
