17. Brooks

CHAPTER 17

brOOKS

It was too soon to say out loud, but I was quickly falling in love with Tate. My feelings for him went so far beyond the sex, and with every step we took together toward my bedroom, I forced myself to choke down all of my doubts about those feelings. Tate’s legs trembled and locked, barely able to hold him up as we climbed the stairs, and he leaned into me with soft little moans and tired sighs. He was still slick with sweat and burning hot from the fucking but, for some reason, the thought of putting him into a bath was the last thing I wanted to do.

“Shower tonight,” I said, walking him into my bathroom and helping him to sit down on the short stone bench that jutted out from the wall under the rain shower head. He went down without an argument, eyes still closed like he was seconds away from sleep.

I stepped out of the spray to get my clothes off, which earned me an unhappy grunt from the near-lifeless body tucked against the wall.

“Did you want me to shower in my clothes? Does your kink go that far?” I asked, working open the buttons on my shirt.

Tate pried one eye open. “If I said yes, would you?”

I licked my lips, swallowing back what felt like a bundle of emotions the size of a softball.

“Yes,” I admitted.

Tate opened both of his eyes and regarded me silently from his perch. I had stopped undressing myself at the displeased sound he’d made, hands still in the middle of my shirt, only my chest exposed, and my cock still hanging out of my pants.

“Stay dressed,” he murmured, reaching for me.

I found myself under the water before the last word even left his mouth. My shirt plastered itself to my back, and I shoved my hair back out of my face when I reached where he sat. Scooping him up off the bench took considerable work, but I managed it just the same. I turned and dropped my soaking wet, slacks-covered ass onto the bench. Arranging Tate on my lap with one knee on either side of my thighs, I cradled the back of his head and pressed him toward my shoulder. He slipped his hands around the small of my back and snuggled into me, the water raining down on the top of his head and his bare back.

“What about it do you like?” I asked.

“The sex?”

“No.” I kissed the side of his head. “Well, yes. But I meant about me staying dressed when you’re naked.”

Tate hummed, fingers pressing against my skin. “It makes me feel like you’re desperate for me.”

“I am. ”

“Like you couldn’t even be bothered to take your clothes off. You just need to have me.”

“I do,” I rasped, closing my eyes.

“Just like you need this? The aftercare?”

“Yes,” I agreed.

Tate didn’t have anything to say to that, so I reached for my shower gel on the far wall and squirted some into my hand. It wasn’t ideal, but I lathered as many bubbles as my fingers would allow and began to drag my hands over every inch of his skin I could reach. I dug my fingers into his muscles, earning me tired and deep groans with every stretch.

“I loved it earlier when you choked me,” he said, breaking a drawn-out silence between us after my hands had made their way to his shoulders.

It was the last thing I had expected him to say, and it did a little bit more than catch me off-guard. I chewed the inside of my lip, like it would somehow whittle down the discomfort in my chest.

“You just got tense,” he mumbled, face still tucked against my neck. “Do you not believe me?”

“I trust you.”

“Not the question, but…” Tate trailed off, and I worked my hands up around his throat, pleased enough to find that I hadn’t held him tight enough to bruise. He swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing against my palm, and his cock bobbed in tandem against my stomach.

“You were the only thing I could see,” he went on, and I flexed my fingers. “I loved it.”

I slipped my hand down from his throat to his chest, feeling the steady and loud beat of his heart against my hand .

“And I loved feeling you come inside of me,” he went on. “I love the way you fuck me, Brooks.”

It was everything I’d ever wanted to hear, but too much at the same time. I wiggled my shoulder to push his head up, stealing his mouth for a kiss far softer and needier than the ones I’d shared with him earlier in the night. Tate moaned, circling his hips and spearing his tongue into my mouth. He was as clean as he was going to get, position considering, so I was beyond happy to indulge the turn of events. I’d planned to clean him up and give his body a decent amount of time to recover, then I’d wanted to take him to bed and massage him until he fell asleep.

“I…” Tate’s breath was quiet against my lips, and whatever he was going to say died in the back of his throat, probably in the same place all my own thoughts had set up a graveyard of their own.

“Let’s get you dry,” I said, pushing up from the bench enough so that I could turn and sit him back down on it. He grumbled when I stepped away to take my clothes off, but no matter how much I wanted to make him happy, I wasn’t going to track water from the bathroom into the bedroom.

That was a lie.

If he had asked…

But he didn’t.

I kicked my soaking wet clothes into the corner of the bathroom, then got towels for the both of us, wrapping one casually around my waist before turning off the water and holding the second open for him. He stood on far steadier legs than before and shuffled into my waiting arms. I loved these moments when he wanted to feel small, or when he wanted me to feel tall, I wasn’t sure which. But Tate tucked his head down and let me fold my arms—and the warm towel—around him. When he was dry enough, I walked him to the bed, folding the bedding down so it wouldn’t be a mess to get up later.

“Face down on the bed,” I said softly.

Tate complied quickly, arching his back and putting his ass on a perfect display for me. I palmed my cock, already getting hard again at the prospect, even though sex wasn’t what I was after, though…

“Can you handle me again?” I asked him, grabbing the lube as soon as he nodded his head in the affirmative.

Tate turned his face to the side, pressing his cheek against the pillow and making room for me between his legs. It was easy to get myself hard again, slick my shaft, and sink home inside of him. Tate whimpered with every inch, mewling like a happy cat once I was fully seated. Instead of fucking him, I dug my fingertips into the small of his back, starting on the massage I’d always intended to give him.

“Oh, that feels so good,” he whispered, eyes rolling back and making his lashes flutter.

Fuck, he was a sight.

“Which part?”

“Yes.”

I smiled, tucking my chin toward my armpit so he couldn’t see how positively giddy his responses and reactions made me. Working my way up the slender length of his back, I didn’t worry about fucking him again. I focused on the massage, letting my cock handle the work from the inside when every dig and press of my hands against his back and shoulders.

I was nearing the end of his massage when Tate flicked one of his eyes open, doing his best to peer up at me, but losing the fight for it when the head of my cock dragged over his prostate.

“How are you single, Brooks?”

“I’m not. I have you.”

He groaned, arching his ass against my hips again. “You know what I mean.”

I curled my hands around his waist, hauling him up enough that I could get a deeper angle inside of him. I thrust long and slow inside of him, no longer wanting him to fall asleep during the massage, but this.

“My last boyfriend, he…it got old,” I explained.

Tate groaned, shoving his hand between the sheets and his stomach. “You’ll need to elaborate.”

I bent over his back and slipped my arm around the front of his chest, banding our bodies together. The position made it harder to fuck him, but that was secondary to the rest of it. I rolled us both onto our sides and kicked Tate’s top leg over mine, opening him up for me.

“He hated this part.” I kissed the back of Tate’s neck, enjoying the smell of my soap on his skin and in his hair. “I think he hated me.”

“He just wanted the…” Tate gasped, a shiver tearing through his entire body. “The rough fucks?”

“At first.” I closed my eyes, focusing on the heat of his ass around me and the quick jerk of his fist around his cock. “Then he didn’t want me at all.”

“Did he think you would get bored of the things you like? That you would be happy with missionary?”

I scoffed, flipping Tate onto his back and sinking back into him. I wrapped his legs around my waist and drove down into him, long and hard.

“What’s wrong with missionary?” I teased. “I can fuck you like this too.”

He sputtered out a whimper when I hit him with a particularly sharp snap of my hips, and I loved that I could take his breath away. I didn’t know what I would do when the novelty wore off for him.

If the novelty wore off…

“It doesn’t matter.” I brushed my nose against his, brushing a kiss across his mouth. “He got bored of me, and then I was alone. And now, I’m not.”

A sated smile spread across Tate’s kiss-swollen mouth.

“No, you’re not.” He wound his arms around my neck and moaned loudly into my ear. “That was the best massage I’ve ever had.”

“I went to school for it,” I said.

“Of course you did.”

I hooked his legs up over my shoulders, folding him in half and driving him down into the mattress.

“What do you mean of course?” I asked, punching the breath out of him and making it near impossible for him to answer.

Thankfully, he understood the point and stopped trying, and ten minutes later, he came against his chest with a gasping cry. I licked the taste of it out of his mouth, the heat and the shape of him enough to send me over the edge a second time. I came with a low growl, spilling another load inside of him. Tate’s fingers scrabbled against the small of my back, the backs of my thighs, trying to pull me deeper with every jerk of my dick inside of him .

I let out a trembling breath, slowly lowering his legs down, all the while keeping my cock inside of him. Rolling us both onto our sides, I kneaded his tight thigh muscles as best I could reach, which earned me a tired-sounding laugh.

“You’re insatiable.” He yawned, stretching out and clenching down around my cock.

“I am,” I agreed, feeling like, for the first time, that it might not be a bad thing. Wondering if Tate saw it as a bonus, not a detraction.

“Can we sleep like this?” he asked, reaching between our bodies and dragging his fingers over the exposed inch of my cock. “I like how it feels.”

“Yes, darling.” I flattened my hand against the center of his chest and dropped my forehead against his shoulder. My other hand tickled soft swirls through the coarse hair of his thigh. “We can sleep like this.”