Page 11 of Under The Twilight Rainfall
Good thing the fucker is asleep because I ain’t putting up with an ‘I-told-you-so,’ especially not after that stupid ass dream that he sure as hell shouldn’t have been starring in, but that’s just my luck isn’t it?
It’s the longest I’ve been without a good dick-down, and I’m stuck with the only people in the world who would keep me cock-blocked for the next excruciating two weeks.
Maybe I didn’t think this trip through. Maybe while I’m out tomorrow I can find a guy to give me a quicky. Short of my nights with Zeke, it might be the first time I’ve had sex off camera in close to two years.
Quietly—even though I know Valen is a deep sleeper who wouldn’t stir if there was a marching band in his room—I make my way to the bathroom to wipe down and air out. Now, not only do I have to strip down to go back to sleep, I’ve also gotta get up before Valen so he doesn’t find out that I did.
Seeing his smug face before I have to go into work mode is not good for my professional mindset. Especially if he tags along like he implied.
My shirt and pants hit the floor immediately, and I use a small rag on the counter to wipe down my chest. There’s no way I can actually go to bed naked in Valen’s Lola’s house, so I plan to just un-stick my boxers from my balls and wipe the sweat away before pulling them back into place—but that shit isn’t happening.
Because my traitorous, horny-ass dick decided that the completely unwelcome sex dream was a great excuse to get off. Now not only do I have sweat all over my thighs and entire lower region, but I also have sticky, dried cum.
Just fucking great.
I spend the next five minutes cleaning myself up, wrapping my waist in a towel, and digging through my case as quietly as I can to find another pair of briefs. Valen might not wake up, but I don’t want to disturb anyone else in the house.
Once I’m finally clean and no longer feel like a twinkie that’s been left in the desert, I’m prepared to shamefully crawl back under the covers on the couch and pretend this little middle-of-the-night wet dream business never occurred.
Fate sure loves to shit on my plans, though, because when I get close to the edge of the couch, I notice a figure sitting on it and nearly yelp like a startled hyena. When I see the empty mat on the floor—not because I was going to look to Valen to save me or be my human shield—my shoulders relax and the temporary fear turns to annoyance.
“Christ, Valen, give a guy a heart attack. Am I not allowed to piss?”
I don’t think he’s fully awake, because he rubs at his eyes with the heels of his hands—and I’m only getting close because he’s in my space, not so I can check on him. As soon as I’m within reaching distance he tugs me into his side.
It’s quiet and all of my muscles are on high alert, but nothing happens. His breathing is a little ragged, but he keeps an arm securely around my waist, his eyes pressed into my shoulder, and that’s it. We sit that way—awkwardly because I have no plans of putting my arms around him—for a long time.
I don’t know why I let him.
I don’t know why I don’t pull away.
But something sharp in my chest tells me that right this moment he needs me. He doesn’t need me to do anything, just to be here. To let him hold me.
Why I listen to that shit is beyond me, but I do.
“I thought you left.” His breath warms my neck, and despite the already humid air, I shiver.
“Where the hell would I have gone?” I whisper, afraid my voice will give away how unsteady I feel. How unsteady he makes me feel.
He doesn’t say anything else, but his breathless, on-edge laugh makes my dick twitch—and no, thank you, sir, you blew your load on imaginary action, so now you get to back the fuck off—but when he does speak, it makes matters ten times worse and leaves me burning up in a way that has nothing to do with the heat.
“Lie with me, Dex? Need to know you’re here. Need to feel you.”
That shouldn’t resonate with something deep inside, something I’ve ignored and covered with sex for so long I almost forgot it was there.
The need to be close.
To connect.
I should tell him no. Should boot him back to his mat and try my damnedest to get a few more hours of sleep.
But the niggling in my brain won’t let me.
Indulge him, it says.Just one night.
I can’t voice my agreement out loud; my tongue is too worked up and twisted to get the words out, so I nod until he gets the message.
It feels like being fifteen again. When I’d wake up in the middle of the night to Valen sitting by my bed and petting back my hair, with tears streaming down my face from the nightmares that never stopped.
