10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Rocco was nervous.

It had been a week, exactly, since Taylor had gazed at him like he held all the secrets of the universe, kissed him, and then confessed, again , that he didn’t want a (real) boyfriend.

But this time, after a week of space and the universe giving him the nudge he needed, Rocco knew that Taylor was wrong and that he was going to prove it to him.

He walked in the door at Frosty’s and immediately spotted Taylor, holding down the fort at one of the few booths.

“Hey,” Taylor said, rising and Rocco had to swallow all his worries, because damn , after a week of only thinking about Taylor and not having a front row seat to all his deliciousness, Rocco had forgotten how bright and hot the attraction flared between them.

It was flaring now, wild and undeniable, and Rocco swore Taylor felt it too as they hugged.

Rocco had intended to keep the hug short and sweet, but Taylor lingered, his hands tucking under Rocco’s jacket and pressing warm and firm into his sweater.

Rocco swore he could feel every bit of that touch even through two layers of fabric.

How would it have felt if he hadn’t been wearing a stitch?

Ugh. Focus. Goat goddamn cheese.

Finally, he let go, but didn’t drift away or sit back down. “I’ve been having to fight half the bar off. Everyone wants this booth, but I wasn’t going to let anyone else take it.”

Rocco smiled, pleased. “Yeah?”

Maybe he’d forgotten the visceral impact of Taylor, but he hadn’t forgotten how kind and thoughtful he could be. How much he’d tried to do the right thing by his (fake) boyfriend, at least all the way up til he’d given Rocco a very real kiss.

And really, if he hadn’t immediately regretted it, then everything would have been different. They’d have been inseparable, in bed and out, this last week.

That could still happen , Rocco promised himself.

“Maybe after a week off, I want to get as close to you as possible,” Taylor said, his voice low and a little rough around the edges. Like he didn’t want anyone else to hear it. Like it was a confession.

Rocco took a deep breath. He’d been the one to tell Taylor it was still on. He was the one who’d invited Taylor tonight.

It was just hard when it looked and sounded and felt like Taylor really meant it.

And maybe he does.

Well, they were going to find out.

“I’m not gonna complain about that,” Rocco said softly, gazing up at him.

Taylor looked like he wanted to hug him again.

Or maybe more.

“Uh, okay, yeah,” Taylor stammered. “Let’s . . .uh . . .you want a drink? Do you want to see the song list?”

“Here I thought we were just coming out to remind everyone of our epic love, have a few drinks, and listen to the town humiliate themselves by singing Christmas songs badly?” Rocco teased.

“I . . .we can do that,” Taylor said with a grin. “We can definitely do that. What do you want? An espresso martini?”

“Sure,” Rocco said.

Taylor leaned down. “Don’t let anyone take our booth. I’ll be right back.”

Rocco sat down, slipped out of his coat, and looked around at the setup .

He’d only been in Frosty’s a handful of times since moving to Christmas Falls, but the few times he’d grabbed a quick meal or drink, he’d never seen the small stage set up at one end of the long room with a large screen behind it. Or the queue of festively dressed people waiting in line to sign up to sing their favorite holiday song.

“Young man, are you going to get up there or just sit there and listen to the rest of the town make fools of themselves?”

Rocco glanced over and Mrs. Lil was standing there, grinning at him.

“Uh,” he hesitated. “I’m not much of a singer, to be honest.”

“I vote for we listen to them make fools of themselves,” she said.

Rocco chuckled as she sat down. He wasn’t that disappointed. After waltzing in in her full glory two months ago and seeing pumpkin spice was not on his menu, he hadn’t seen her grace Jolly Java since.

Mrs. Lil wasn’t capable of a cold shoulder, but if she was, she’d have spent the last few weeks giving Rocco one.

But not now. Now, she was sitting across from him expectantly, her gaze roving over him with that appraising stare.

“That sounds like a great plan,” Rocco said.

“Well, it’s a plan of some kind,” she said wryly. She leaned forward. “Now, Rocco Moretti, I hear you’re seeing sense.”

“Of some kind,” Rocco said with a laugh .

She looked surprised, and he had a feeling not much surprised her. “Oh, I like you,” she said.

“I like him too. Good evening, Mrs. Lil.” Taylor slid in next to him, all graceful movements, setting a full martini glass in front of him and a beer bottle in front of himself.

Drinks delivered, he slung an arm around Rocco and tucked him in close.

“Oh, are you two here . . .oh, you are .” She smiled. “You’re on a date.”

“Guilty as charged,” Rocco said. “But you’re welcome to stay.”

“And be a third wheel?” Mrs. Lil shook her head and continued tartly, “I hardly think so. But thank you for the invitation. And Rocco? Expect to see me next week.”

Rocco nodded as she slid out of the booth and headed over, ending up at the one two down with Griff and Logan.

“I guess she doesn’t mind crashing their date,” Taylor said mischievously.

“Guess we’re cuter than them,” Rocco said.

Taylor’s gaze slid to him. Eyed him up and down. “Yeah, we are,” he said. His fingertips skimmed over Rocco’s shoulder and settled on it, his touch light.

“I . . .” What Rocco was going to say died in his throat. He swallowed hard. Taylor’s eyes were so intent on him, his look so intense, it was like he could see right into Rocco. Could see all the parts where Rocco wanted this to be real .

“I should say I’m sorry,” Taylor said.

“For?” But Rocco had a feeling he knew.

Taylor winced. “Pushing you. Pushing us . Then freaking out like that. That was . . .I shouldn’t have done that.”

Rocco wanted to melt like candle wax, but he stayed strong. If he got this wrong . . .well, that didn’t bear thinking of. “To be clear, are you apologizing for kissing me?”

Taylor shook his head. “No, no way. For freaking out after. I . . .that was not my best moment.”

“I don’t think it was for either of us.” Rocco could at least admit that.

“I’m glad we got that out of the way,” Taylor said, and his grin was bright. “Now we can really enjoy listening to these people butchering Mariah Carey.”

“They wouldn’t,” Rocco objected.

Taylor shot him a look. “Oh, there’s a reason I told them to make your drink strong.”

“Ouch. That bad?”

Something pulled Taylor’s gaze from Rocco and then he made a face. “Worse, even.” He pointed to the doorway. And sure enough there were Steve Mills and Mrs. Gucci Boots.

“Ugh, why?” Rocco questioned.

“Bad luck, I suppose,” Taylor said.

Rocco nearly suggested they leave now. Find something else to do— a bed , his mind supplied, and both of us in it, naked— but before he could, Taylor turned to him and said, “I’m not letting them chase us out, okay?”

It was a good reminder that the lines between him and Taylor might’ve gotten blurred, but half the reason they’d started this relationship in the first place was to get Taylor the job he wanted.

“You got it,” Rocco said, taking a sip of his martini. “What other artists should I expect to be butchered tonight?”

“Oh, expect at least two off-key renditions of ‘Little Saint Nick’ by the Beach Boys and at least a few Brenda Lee and Jackson 5 copycats.”

“Sounds great,” Rocco said weakly. He liked Christmas music, but he liked it done well . Why had he suggested this? Well, truthfully, he’d just picked an event from the list. It hadn’t mattered to him what they were doing as long as he could see Taylor again.

The mayor stepped on stage to a loud cheer. “Good evening,” she said into the microphone. “I hope you’re all excited to hear our town’s vocal stylings.” There were additional cheers and a few boos.

“Now, now, none of that,” she said with a grin. “We’re here to have fun. Our first caroler tonight is . . .” She paused, looking at the paper in her hand. “Is this right?” she asked the man running the karaoke machine, pulling the microphone away so the whole room couldn’t hear her. But it wasn’t a very big room and after so long in office her voice just naturally carried. “This can’t be right.”

“It’s right. I’m definitely up first.” Steve Mills’ wife flounced onto the stage. That was the only way Rocco could describe it. She was dressed in a short, tight red velvet dress and sure enough, those same Gucci boots.

They were hot boots; Rocco could give her that at least.

But the mayor just stared at her incredulously, finally handing the microphone over as her song began to play.

It was, as Taylor had foretold, Mariah Carey’s seminal holiday hit, “All I Want For Christmas is You.”

It was not a song for an amateur, and unfortunately, from the first wobbly notes, it seemed Laura Mills was not of Mariah Carey’s caliber.

In fact, as the chorus hit, it got worse, and Taylor winced, taking a long drink of his beer. Rocco heard a few boos begin in the audience.

“Is this normal?” he asked Taylor, who shook his head.

“No. It’s not. Mona usually stops it if it gets too heated, or too mean, but she doesn’t look like she’s stopping it now.”

No, it didn’t. In fact, the mayor’s lips were set in a grim line, and she’d made no move to stop the song, or Laura Mills’ increasingly deranged and off-key wailing.

But apparently if the mayor wasn’t going to stop her, someone else would .

Rocco’s jaw fell open as Steve hopped onto the stage, a forced smile on his face, and tried to wrangle the microphone away. “Come on, honey, you told me you had this,” he hissed, loud enough and unfortunately for him, directly into the microphone. “You gotta stop. You’re making us all look bad.”

She vamped harder and then, pulling the microphone back, sang loudly, “All I want for Christmas is Heeeeaaaaaath.”

Rocco found Heath Kelly in the back of the room, and he was visibly wincing.

Either at how terribly Mariah Carey was being emulated or at Laura’s insistent attempts to interest him when he was clearly not interested in her. It was hard to say. Rocco was going to vote both .

“Come on, you’re making a fool of yourself.” Steve tried to grab the microphone again, and his voice had gotten hard. Unrelenting. Nothing like the smooth, charming facade he normally wore.

“Oh shit,” Taylor murmured. “I should—”

“Yes,” Rocco said. “Go up there. Now .”

The mayor also had the same idea, because she was climbing back on the stage, watching with trepidation as Steve tried to wrestle the microphone out of his wife’s hands.

She segued into an off-key, off-melody version of Carly Simon’s, “You’re So Vain,” which was a transition that Rocco hadn’t seen coming, but one he could at least get behind .

“Mrs. Mills,” the mayor said loudly, “it’s time to stop. You shouldn’t even be up yet. The signup is first come, first serve, and you just showed up.” She glared at the guy running the karaoke machine, and sure enough, he looked guilty.

Had Steve slipped him some money to make sure his wife went first? Or had she done that?

It was hard to say, but the whole thing was playing out publicly, and in a town like Christmas Falls, where the gossip mill was incredibly active, the retellings of this evening were going to spread like wildfire.

Rocco watched as Taylor approached the stage. The mayor leaned down and whispered something in his ear. He nodded.

Finally, Steve successfully yanked the microphone from his wife and said into it, apparently unaware of how microphones worked, “Goddamn it, you made us look bad.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “You do that well enough on your own.”

“I was doing just fine without your ‘assistance,’” he retorted.

“Let me give you both some assistance,” Taylor said, intervening by stepping between them and neatly plucking the microphone from Steve’s hand. “You’re both done. Time to get off the stage.”

Steve made a face, turning him ugly, and he lunged for the microphone, but Taylor just stared at him. Not engaging, but clearly not permitting him to continue. It was a perfect line to walk, and there were a few cheers from the audience .

“Time to go,” Mona repeated firmly.

“We should get all the turns if we want them,” Steve retorted. “We’re practically Christmas Falls royalty!”

Mona shot him a venomous stare. “There is no such thing as Christmas Falls royalty. That’s what you don’t get, Steve. That’s not what this town is. It’s not what it’s ever been. We don’t stand for that kind of superior attitude here, even if your family’s lived here forever.”

Taylor looked between the mayor and Steve. “Ma’am,” he said, so polite, so perfectly Midwestern that Rocco wanted to cry with it, “should I take out the trash?”

Mona chuckled. “Yes, please. Let’s go.”

Wrapping a hand around Steve’s arm, Taylor tugged him off the stage, as Mona escorted Laura off.

“And uh, now up,” the karaoke guy said, stammering, his voice nearly drowned out by the cat calls and the applause, “is Mrs. Lil singing ‘Rocking Around the Christmas Tree.’”

Mrs. Lil took the stage to an absolute roar of approval, and a moment later, Taylor slid back into the booth next to Rocco, wearing a shit-eating grin and a lightness around him that Rocco loved to see.

“Well,” Taylor said, “I guess that’s that.”

Rocco reached over and gave his arm a squeeze. “You were brilliant, baby.”

“Was I? ”

“You know you were. You just let him have enough rope to hang himself. And Mrs. Gucci Boots, too.”

“I guess we did,” Taylor said, but his smile said it all. By tomorrow, this story would be on everyone’s lips and Rocco would be surprised if the council even considered Steve Mills’ application, once the truth of his feelings came out.

“She’s actually pretty good,” Rocco said a moment later, listening to Mrs. Lil in the background. “And here I thought she wasn’t going to actually participate. She told me we were going to listen as everyone made fools of themselves.”

“She always sings this and only this,” Taylor said. “And Mrs. Lil is incapable of making a fool of herself.”

Rocco smiled, nodding. He understood it now. She hadn’t included herself in that assessment because she knew she had the pipes to sing this song.

Taylor lifted his beer and tapped it against Rocco’s glass. “Cheers to a great evening in Christmas Falls,” he said.

Unlike last Saturday’s run-in with Steve Mills and his wife, this Saturday night, Taylor was in a great mood by the time they exited Frosty’s.

He’d been flirty and charming all evening, touching Rocco as much as he could, and Rocco hoped, even though he knew the danger in it, that maybe this Saturday night, things might end differently.

Maybe Taylor would kiss him again and this time not regret it.

Or maybe . . .as they walked out the front door of Frosty’s, Rocco toyed with the idea of being the one to initiate, even though Taylor hadn’t actually said a word about a redo.

But he had to be thinking it, didn’t he? Because Rocco sure was.

It felt like he’d barely stopped thinking about it, during the last week.

“Well, uh, I guess I should walk you home,” Taylor said.

“But I’m not tired,” Rocco said flirtatiously, letting his body sway a little closer to Taylor’s. And sure enough, his breath caught and his pupils dilated.

Yes, he definitely wanted Rocco.

The only question was, did he want to want him? Rocco didn’t want to go through this again only to end up back in the same place.

His heart couldn’t take it.

“Me either, honestly,” Taylor said, shoving his hands into his pockets like doing that might keep him from reaching for Rocco.

“I think it’s come time in our dating relationship for you to show me your house,” Rocco said, giving Taylor that Moretti look, the one that always guaranteed they’d ensnare whoever was on the receiving end.

He didn’t add and your bed , but he knew they were both thinking it.

Taylor looked appropriately blown away by it. “Uh, yeah? You think?”

“A good night calls for one last drink, don’t you think?” Rocco asked persuasively.

Shooting him a questioning look, Taylor just nodded. “It’s this way.”

They walked down Dasher Street in silence. It was late and the only sound was the crunch of the snow underneath their boots.

Rocco was wondering if he’d overstepped his bounds when suddenly Taylor stopped in the middle of the sidewalk.

Just fucking stopped. Right there.

Rocco turned, suddenly worried that he had pushed him too hard. He hadn’t meant to, really, he just wanted the guy so much it was hard to practice much restraint.

“Everything okay?” Rocco asked, worried at what Taylor’s answer was going to be.

But Taylor didn’t say anything, just lifted his cold fingers to Rocco’s face and traced the lines of it, his touch soft but intent. “I can’t do this,” he said.

Rocco felt his heart crack. He swore he fucking heard it. He couldn’t say anything. He never struggled with words but he had nothing to say. It was ironic how he’d thought last Saturday was bad enough, but this was so much worse.

But then Taylor kept going. “I can’t keep pretending, I don’t even want to keep pretending,” he continued and before Rocco could respond, he shocked him by kissing him.

Taylor’s mouth was firm and confident and God , so real. Rocco groaned and kissed him back just as fiercely, and they stumbled a bit as Rocco plastered his body against Taylor’s. Wanting his warmth, but more like needing it.

Taylor pulled away but it wasn’t like last time. It wasn’t at all. He was happy, practically glowing with it, and he said, “You—”

But that was all Rocco let him get out of his mouth before he was kissing him again, needier this time, pouring everything he’d felt over the last week, over the last few weeks, into the kiss.

Taylor’s hands reached under the hem of his coat and pressed into his sweater, as hungry and needy as Rocco felt.

“You,” Taylor gasped again, pulling away.

Rocco was a little disappointed, but only in the not kissing . He wasn’t even close to disappointed at Taylor’s expression, which was a heady combination of awe and arousal.

“Me,” Rocco said, pressing his body fully against Taylor and feeling all his arousal.

“I just . . .I don’t know what to do with you,” Taylor said, but he sounded like he felt the exact opposite.

His cock, hard and hot, pressing into Rocco’s thigh, said the exact opposite .

“Yeah, you do,” Rocco teased. He leaned in and brushed a gentle kiss against Taylor’s mouth. “You want to take me home to your place, undress me, and stop fighting this thing between us.”

Taylor looked surprised. In fact looked poleaxed.

“You can’t be surprised that I want to get you naked,” Rocco said. “Or that you want to get me naked.”

“No,” Taylor said, chuckling. “I’m shocked that you’d be willing to let me, after I was such an ass last week.”

“It’s ’cause you’re cute,” Rocco said playfully. And hot. And sweet. And kind. And so charming it’s a freaking miracle I didn’t goat cheese out of this the first time you touched me.

Taylor grinned. “Just cute?”

“Come on, hot stuff, take me home,” Rocco said.

“I can do that,” Taylor said. Leaned down and gave him one last searing kiss.

When they broke apart, breathless, Rocco couldn’t help but say, “Please tell me your house is close.”

“Really close,” Taylor promised.

It turned out he was right; Taylor led them down Dasher Street, stopping at a quaint little blue bungalow trimmed in red and white lights.

“This is your house?” Rocco asked as Taylor unlocked the door .

“No, I’m gonna fuck you in a stranger’s house,” Taylor joked and then hesitated, the door shutting behind them. “But uh, we don’t have to—”

“Shut up, just shut up,” Rocco said and pressed him against the door, kissing him hard. For a second, it was easy to get lost in it. To want to start and never, ever stop.

“I . . .uh . . .take it you like that idea,” Taylor said, and Rocco had to pull back from his lips because he was laughing too hard to stop easily.

“Do I like that idea?”

Taylor chuckled. “Clearly I’m a fan, since it was my suggestion. But we don’t have to—”

Rocco pressed his fingers to Taylor’s mouth. His breath stuttered when Taylor’s lips slid down them, sucking on them insistently, tongue teasing their edges.

“Fuck,” Rocco groaned. “Come on.”

“Come on how?” Taylor teased, and then his expression grew more serious. “Honestly, we can do whatever you want. I’d be happy to just keep kissing you.”

“Why don’t we start here?” Rocco said and unzipped Taylor’s coat. Then lifted up his sweater, his hands leaving goosebumps in their wake as they coasted down Taylor’s chest and abs. “The real question is how does a guy who works behind a desk look like this?”

Taylor was breathing heavily now as Rocco’s fingers slid lower, working at his belt. “Uh, well, it’s been awhile for me. So I uh . . .spend a lot of time in my garage—uh, my gym, we’ll say working off the excess energy. I have it set it up with a few things. Uh . . .”

Rocco patted himself on the back (metaphorically, of course) when Taylor’s breathing got harder, and he trailed off right when he began to unbuckle the belt on his jeans.

He hadn’t touched him yet. Not really. Not where Taylor really wanted to be touched. Rocco could feel the heat coming off his dick, clearly outlined in his jeans.

“I don’t think you’re gonna need that gym, anymore,” Rocco teased and went to his knees, right there in Taylor’s tiny foyer, taking his jeans with him, tucking his fingers under his navy blue boxer briefs and tugging them down, too.

And was very pleasantly surprised by the cock that bobbed out. It wasn’t super thick, but it was long and flushed red, precome already wetting the head.

Rocco licked his lips and then leaned in, licking it, enjoying the way Taylor’s breathing seemed to stop entirely.

“Oh, oh. ” Taylor exhaled sharply. “You—you know what, nevermind. Nevermind what I was about to say. Everything I was about to say. Do whatever you want. Anything you want.”

“Yeah?” Rocco asked casually, like he wasn’t on his knees, this close to sucking Taylor’s cock.

Like his own wasn’t throbbing in his pants, as turned on by the thought of pulling Taylor to the edge as he was by the thought of Taylor doing the same to him .

“God, yes, please, though . . .” Taylor gasped as Rocco leaned in and licked again, this time a long stripe up the underside. Acquainting himself and just plain enjoying his taste. The weight of him against his tongue. “I’m definitely not going to last that long.”

“Not worried about that,” Rocco said. Glanced up. “Unless you’ve decided this is a one-off.”

“It’s not,” Taylor said, and that was all the reassurance Rocco needed. He leaned in, slid Taylor’s cock into his mouth, and sucked hard.

Taylor was pretty sure he was going to hyperventilate. Any moment now, the hot suction of Rocco’s mouth was going to make him die in the best possible kind of way.

He’d tried not to think about his cock in relation to Rocco’s mouth before tonight, but who was he kidding?

He’d thought about it. Extensively. Exhaustively.

And the reality dwarfed every imagined fantasy he’d had.

Taylor sank his fingers into Rocco’s curls and tugged, Rocco groaning around his cock as he took him even deeper still. Pleasure was hot and thick in his system, short-circuiting anything but basic thought .

And his thoughts were pretty freaking basic: after this, he was going to take Rocco to his bedroom and fuck him so good he’d never stop coming back for more.

At the thought of sinking into something even tighter, even hotter, than Rocco’s incredibly talented mouth, his balls drew up, ecstasy so fucking close, he could nearly taste it. But he held off, enjoying this moment so much that he never wanted it to end.

“Fuck,” Taylor ground out, barely holding on to his self-control. Rocco slid a saliva-slick finger back, behind his balls, pressing right up against him as he swallowed him whole again.

“That’s the idea,” Rocco said roughly as he pulled back.

Taylor glanced down and nearly lost it then. Rocco’s mouth, red and wet, his tongue flicking out to lick his head, curling around it confidently. Like he knew that would bring Taylor to his knees.

And sure enough, it only took one more long suck, before Taylor was moaning, sliding off the edge, his orgasm going on and on, unloading into Rocco’s waiting mouth.

Taylor’s head thumped against the wood door. “Oh my God,” he said, Rocco licking him clean. “I think I just died and went to heaven.”

“You want more?” Rocco asked, and that wasn’t even a question .

He still felt drunk with the pleasure of that incredible orgasm, but Rocco wouldn’t be desperate to come back if he didn’t give as good as he’d gotten.

And God , he wanted to get his hands on this man.

He summoned his strength and lifted Rocco up and then up even farther, picking him right up and unsteadily taking them into the bedroom.

After he deposited Rocco on the edge of his bed, Rocco gazed up at him with reverence crossed with arousal, the look in those dark eyes mesmerizing.

“Shit,” Rocco groaned. “That was hot.”

“Good,” Taylor said and then got down to business, which was taking Rocco’s clothes off, unwrapping him the way he’d unwrap a present. Slowly, with anticipation growing inside him.

And Rocco was a fucking gift.

No question about that.

With each inch of skin he revealed, Taylor felt his own arousal—which shouldn’t have been spiking again so soon, not after the blowjob of a century—grow.

But first, he’d make it so good for Rocco.

When Rocco was down to just his briefs, cupping his hard dick, and that chain around his neck, Taylor leaned in and his lips slid over it, tasting metal and something that was sweet and salty that he knew could only be Rocco.

Rocco’s hands gripped his shoulders, shuddering under him. “Shit,” he groaned. “I need you. I need you so fucking bad.”

“You got me,” Taylor promised and then slid his briefs down.

Rocco’s cock was as gorgeous as the rest of him. Shorter than Taylor’s, but thicker. Clothed, he was gorgeous. Naked, he was a work of art that Taylor couldn’t wait to worship.

He reached out, gripping Rocco’s upper thigh, feeling the muscles tremble with his touch, then slid his hand up and up farther still. Wrapped his hand around Rocco’s gorgeous cock, Rocco shuddering underneath him.

Taylor gave his cock a gentle stroke and then another, loving how responsive Rocco was. Was so focused on every single one of his reactions that he nearly missed Rocco opening his legs. Luring him in further.

And Taylor wasn’t stupid enough to resist that unspoken invitation.

“You want this?” he asked him. Afraid he’d say no. Afraid he’d say yes.

“Yes,” Rocco hissed. “Come on.”

Taylor scrambled for the lube in his dresser drawer, also pulling out the box of condoms he’d bought three weeks ago in a fit of optimism he hadn’t been sure he understood at the time.

He understood it now and was fucking grateful for it.

Arousal burned in Rocco’s dark eyes as he rubbed a lube-wet thumb around his hole, going as gently and carefully as he could. Rocco didn’t urge him on further or faster this time, just tilted his head up and said softly, “Kiss me, okay?”

An easy directive Taylor could follow .

He kissed him deep just as his finger slid inside him, burning from just how insanely hot and tight Rocco was.

He didn’t think he’d ever fingered anyone this slowly before, this intently, and the intensity of it was mind-blowing. How Rocco wrapped around his fingers, how his body pulled him in and didn’t want to let go.

By the time he slid a third finger in next to his other two, he was flushed and as hard as he’d ever been in his life. And Rocco? Sweat dotted his forehead and he was straining, even as he lifted his mouth and his body up, for Taylor to take.

He gave him one last fierce kiss, loving the way Rocco clenched around his fingers before he pulled them out, hands shaking as he rolled the condom on.

“Keep kissing me,” Rocco pleaded, and Taylor had never been asked to do anything easier in his whole goddamn life.

He tucked Rocco underneath him, tilted his hips up and kissed him as his cock snubbed up against Rocco’s loosened hole.

Even through the layer of latex, the heat of him burned Taylor.

Taylor felt his limbs shake, lips trembling against Rocco’s, as he slowly slipped inside.

He cradled Rocco’s head with one of his hands, fingers slipping between his silky-soft curls, and finally slid home. Fought the urge to move with every ounce of his self-control. And yeah, he’d just come earlier, but it had been a long time since he’d done this—since Michael, and Taylor hadn’t even thought he’d wanted to do this again, not until Rocco—and he was balancing on the knife’s edge of just losing it entirely.

“You feel,” Rocco panted against his mouth, “so freaking amazing.”

Taylor tipped his forehead against Rocco’s and thought, I’ve never had sex like this. Not ever before. “Not as good as you feel,” he murmured.

“Come on,” Rocco said encouragingly.

Taylor didn’t need him to keep begging. He needed to give Rocco everything he craved.

One unsteady thrust turned into another, then another, and finally, he remembered how he used to be good at this. Used to make Michael shake apart with pleasure. But right now, he wasn’t thinking of Michael—his brain and his heart and it felt like every freaking molecule in his whole body was full of someone else.

Rocco had somehow snuck his way in and he wasn’t going to leave—and truthfully Taylor never wanted him to.

“Oh, God,” Rocco cried out as Taylor built up in speed, aiming his thrusts at exactly the spot that was making him shake the most. “That’s so fucking good.”

The one positive of spending so much time burning off excess sexual energy with exercise was that he had the stamina to give Rocco exactly what he needed. Long, steady strokes just where he craved them .

“Do you need—”

But Taylor was interrupted by Rocco shoving a hand between them, giving his cock one single jerk, and he was crying out, coming between them and clenching around Taylor in a way that he’d be dreaming about for a real long time to come.

His orgasm hit too, and he rode it out, trying to be as careful of Rocco as he could as the waves of pleasure finally subsided, and he gently pulled out, collapsing next to him.

Rocco rolled over, and his eyes were glowing with happiness and remembered pleasure. He grinned. “Goat cheese,” he said.

Taylor was still enjoying the tail end of his orgasm but his laughter chased it right away, and he couldn’t even be sad about it.

“You jerk,” he teased, smacking Rocco in the arm. But he knew neither of them meant it.

“If I’d known you were this good in bed,” Rocco said with a happy sigh, laying an arm over Taylor’s chest, clearly not disturbed by the mess, “I’d have seduced you ages ago.”

“Oh, you seduced me , huh?”

“Didn’t I?”

Taylor considered this. “We’ll just say that by the time tonight rolled around, I was very willing—even eager— to be seduced.”

“Fair,” Rocco said.

They didn’t talk about what this meant, but Taylor was pretty sure they didn’t need to. At least not yet. Their fake relationship had been so natural, it seemed as easy as breathing to fall into something more real.