Prologue

PROLOGUE

MIK

Mud flies everywhere in a spectacular wave as I hit the ground with an audible ‘oof'. The heavy rain and the hit from one of the opposing team's flankers makes my vision hazy. The big bastard rolls off me and jumps up while I try to regain the breath that was knocked out of me. I release the ball to a streak of blue, wincing as multiple sets of feet splash more muddy water in my face. My teammates take off towards the try line, and I take a split second to get my bearings, coughing and struggling to suck air into my lungs without making a fuss.

Light blue eyes appear above me, eyebrows raised. A twinkle of amusement brightens Jason's gaze. His twin dimples appear on either side of his face once he confirms that I'm fine.

"That looked painful," he says sarcastically before reaching down to wrench me out of the mud puddle. My shirt makes a loud squelching noise, the thick mud attempting to keep me plastered to the ground.

"Little bit," I manage to choke out .

Jason chuckles and wipes one hand across my cheek, flinging a splatter of mud back onto the field.

"Uh, thanks," I say a little awkwardly. It's hard to look away from him. The sky blue of his eyes seems too bright against the backdrop of such a grey day. Thick rain clouds seem to darken everything around us, but it's still the sunniest, cloudless day in his gaze.

"You alright?"

His hand squeezes mine, and I remember where I am. Shit. I'm still holding his hand. I loosen my grip immediately, coughing out a weak apology. But he doesn't let go. Not until a whistle blows, marking the end of the game, and I startle. There was barely over a minute left when I'd started down the field, and I'd completely forgotten to pay attention to the match once Jason was in my line of sight.

He thumps me hard on the back, and then several of our nearby teammates do the same. They're grinning through their exhaustion, high fiving each other and shaking hands with friends and acquaintances from the other team. We must have been able to score the points needed to pull us ahead. The play was a longshot, made on a wing and a prayer. It was sheer luck that we'd gotten possession. The ball was in my hands at the halfway, and I did what I do best—I ran my ass off, slipping through the mud as I ducked and weaved through their defense. I'd made good headway, throwing myself right into the trajectory of their massive flanker just to get us far enough down the field to get within scoring range. I'd hoped to pass before I got taken down, but their number seven crashed into me just as I was looking behind me for someone to pass to.

My ribs will end up bruised, but it was worth it to end our season on a high note.

"Mik, you crazy bastard!" Clint, our team captain, yells out as he runs straight for me. I brace for impact, holding in a wince when he picks me up and jumps up and down. The rest of the team joins in, celebrating the win and shouting plans to go get shitfaced before running to their cars to get out of the rain as it starts to come down in sheets.

Instead of rushing off behind them, I take a minute, tilting my head back to bask in the heavy shower, letting it wash away some of the mud that is caked in my hair and all over my body.

I feel his presence before I see him. I'm not sure how many minutes pass before I get brave enough to open my eyes and acknowledge him.

"You're still here?"

"You drove," he reminds me.

Instinctively, my body turns towards him, like a plant finding the warmth of the sun, basking in his cloudless blue sky. I gravitate towards him. I always have. It's been this way since we were fifteen and I moved here when my dad landed a contract job at the nearby military base. I'd had a bad attitude and a marked disinterest in making friends after moving around as much as we had. That year alone, I'd been to three separate schools. What was the point of trying? We never stayed anywhere long enough to forge any real connections. I'd always be the outcast. But Jason was different. The moment I sat at the empty desk next to him in homeroom, he struck up a conversation with me as though we'd known each other for our entire lives. He made me laugh.

My life had been too serious until I met Jason Reinier. He was the sun that broke through my perpetual storm cloud, and he never expected me to be anything but myself. He's been my best friend for four years, and roommate for the past year after my dad moved again just after I graduated high school. And so much more.

"Did you talk to her?" His voice is barely audible over the wind and rain. He's standing close enough that I can feel his body heat .

I nod and clear my throat. "Yeah. It's over. It's been over, but she finally acknowledged it."

I've been dating Janel since senior year, after Jason pushed her on me as a prom date so I couldn't avoid going. He knew she would be relentless once he dangled the opportunity to go to senior prom in front of her face. I'd begrudgingly had a good time, maybe too good of a time. I thought Jason was going to kill me when I woke up beside his little sister the next morning, after a raucous hotel party and far too much spiked punch. But, just like everything else, he took it in stride and made jokes about how we'd be real brothers when I made his sister an honest woman.

The relationship probably should have fizzled out, the same way Jason's brief secret romance with our high school quarterback died down once the forbidden thrill was gone. But Janel is nothing if not persistent, and she loves a project. She's spent the past two years trying to turn me into the man of her dreams, with disappointing results. I've been trying to break up with her for the last six months, but it hasn't been going well. I'm trying to be gentle, because I know that we're always going to be connected through Jason, and I want us to part on good terms. She's not a bad person, she's just not the right person.

I might as well have been speaking another language, though. I said, "I don't think this is working." She heard, "we should go on a double date with Ashleigh and her perfect boyfriend." Maybe she thought if I could see her best friend's relationship in action, that we could emulate them? She desperately wants me to be like Ashleigh's boyfriend, Elliot. Don't get me wrong, he's a really nice guy. I can understand the appeal. He's impressive as hell. But I'm not him. I never will be.

Every time I think I've successfully broken things off, she turns around and acts like nothing happened. Like the time I made the argument that she doesn't really want me. I thought I'd gotten through to her, choosing to have the conversation through text because she doesn't hear me when I speak to her. That night I woke up to her climbing into my bed. She showed up in the middle of the night to ride my dick with the sole intention of proving me wrong and that she did, in fact, want me. But sex wasn't what I was talking about. I was talking about her silent judgment over the company I keep, her disapproval over the way I dress, and the tattoo that has been slowly growing down my shoulder since my eighteenth birthday. It's her disappointment that I'm perfectly content taking classes at the local community college and working a minimum wage job in a used bookstore while I figure out what I want to do with my life.

Last week, everything changed. Something happened that made it imperative that I get through to her. I'd had to be harsher than I wanted, and when she figures out why, she might never forgive us. I feel guilty, because Janel is truly a good person. We just aren't right for each other. And she was never the one I really wanted, either.

Jason grimaces. "Was she upset?"

"Yeah," I whisper, nodding. "But it's been a long time coming."

His hand comes up to push my sopping wet hair off my forehead, raking his fingers over my scalp. I need a haircut, it's almost to my chin, but now I'm not sure I'll ever cut it again. Especially when his hand grips the drenched tresses at the nape of my hair and pulls me against him.

The first time we kissed, there was no forethought or warning. It just happened. One minute I was holding his ankles while he did sit-ups, trying to think of anything that would deflate the rapidly growing erection that was going to expose my secrets, the next our mouths were pressed against each other. I don't know who initiated it. But when he pulled back, he looked as terrified as I felt.

We both stammered, falling over each other to apologize and then stumbling into silence when we realized we were both apologizing for the same thing. We'd crossed a line because we thought we felt a vibe. A vibe we were both acutely aware of. Because apparently we'd both been hoping for it.

Jason and I sat on the floor of our shitty apartment gym for hours, confessing feelings we've been hiding for years. He never said anything because he thought I was straight. I never said anything because, well, so did I. Until I met him.

But more than anything, I was afraid to ruin our friendship.

I'm still afraid.

Rainwater pours over us, and we're both shivering. I'm not sure if it's because of the drop in temperature and standing out in torrential rain, or if it's the adrenaline coursing through my veins. There's enough heat coming off our bodies to suggest that it's nerves. Somehow, knowing he's just as nervous as I am makes me feel better. Stronger. Braver.

I press my forehead against his, and our noses brush. Unlike our one and only kiss last week, I can feel this one coming a mile away. It's like the thunder rumbling through the sky, the shiver of electricity in the air as lightning crackles. My lips have their own heartbeat, and it flutters with every warm gust of Jason's breath across my mouth. I bite down on my bottom lip to quell any obvious tremble, and Jason's grip tightens on the back of my hair. The brush of his lips against mine is soft, barely a whisper of a kiss. But it's enough to unfurl an entirely different kind of storm inside me.

The next crack of thunder is so loud the ground shakes, and a nearby picnic table tips over with a rough gust of wind.

"We should probably get to the car," he murmurs, so close to my lips I can feel the words better than I can hear them. I nod reluctantly, and he pulls away.

When we get to my car, I open the back hatch of my old SUV and toss my wet bag inside, gesturing for Jason to do the same. Then, just like we've done a hundred other times, I peel off my soaking wet uniform. Rugby is a rain or shine kind of sport. Whenever the forecast calls for rain or the field is likely to be muddy, we always bring towels and a change of clothes.

Usually, we'd change in the bathroom or shower room if there's one available, but the park is empty and we'd only end up getting wet when we run back to the car, anyway. At least that's what I tell myself.

Jason's eyes on me heat my blood so much I half expect steam to rise from my skin. Stripped down to my boxer briefs, I cock my head at him. He hasn't moved past removing his cleats. His eyes continue to roam over my body before he notices me watching him watch me. He blushes, and it's glorious. It lights me up as much as it does his skin. The reddish blond hair matted against his forehead looks darker wet and creates more contrast to his pale skin and the deep red flush of his face.

He swallows, and I watch the movement of his throat, zeroing in on a drop of water that has created a rivulet along the side of his neck. Before I realize what I'm doing, I've pinned Jason against the side of my SUV. The flat of my tongue runs up the side of his neck, licking up that tiny stream of rainwater. I drink from him thirstily, sucking on his neck. He moans, and I forget to be afraid. I forget the storm raging around us. I forget the guilt I feel about being so blunt with Janel yesterday when I made it clear we're finished.

My mouth moves to his, and we open to each other. Our lips pull and suck and caress in a way I've never experienced before. Maybe it's the rain, but a kiss has never felt like this. I'm drowning in it.

Every movement of our lips against each other pulses with an energy stronger than the storm surrounding us. The first touch of his tongue against mine sends an electric jolt that would rival a strike of lightning through my body, and suddenly we're ravaging each other's mouths like we're starved for it. I am starved for it .

Why did I wait so long? I could have been kissing him like this for four years.

Jason flips us around so I'm the one against the cold metal side of the car. He nips at my lips and makes a rumbly sound in his throat that makes my cock twitch. I help him remove his jersey and push down his shorts, gasping when my hand inadvertently rubs against his erection through his briefs.

"Fuck," I whisper, and he must hear me because he grinds into me.

I gasp into his mouth. My fingers dig into his sides. His slick chest and thighs glide against mine, wet and hot. I could come like this. But I don't want to embarrass myself, and I definitely don't want it to be over yet.

Pulling my mouth away from his, I pick up our bundles of sopping wet clothes and throw them in the trunk. Then I open the back door to usher Jason in, climbing in behind him. The rain is coming down too heavily to drive, and I'm not done kissing him.

Shit, I might never be done.

Once we're both inside and the door is closed, we attack each other all over again. The windows fog, cocooning us inside our tiny, sweltering shelter while the rain beats heavily on the roof.

"I never want to stop kissing you," I slur, feeling drunk on him. I can be mortified about my admissions later. Right now, I can't be responsible for whatever comes out of my mouth. Or in it.

Fuck. Would he let me…

Jason pulls me closer to his chest until I have to straddle his lap, and I kiss him even deeper, licking into his mouth as my hips roll against him. My throbbing cock is testing the confines of my wet boxer briefs. I rub against him like an animal in heat, panting between our hungry kisses and the moans we pass between us. Neither of us can seem to decide what to do with our hands. Mine flit between holding his head steady so I can kiss him deeper and roaming over his heated skin. His rake through my wet hair, grip my shoulders, and run down the center of my back. When he reaches my ass and pulls me harder against him, I nearly lose it. I gasp into his mouth, running my hands down his arms to encourage him to grip me harder.

He groans, thrusting up against me and using his grip on my ass to rock me against him.

"Jason…"

" Mmmphf ."

"I'm gonna–"

"Oh, fuck, Mik–" His words are muffled against my collarbone, and he grips me even harder.

Fuuuuck.

My breath leaves me in a guttural moan as the inside of my drenched underwear grows warm with my release. My cock pulses, and I grind myself on Jason's lap frantically. He rocks his hips up and makes a choked sound, chasing the friction of my wild humping. The realization that he's coming for me has my cock twitching harder through the aftershocks, my body out of my control as I rut against him. I swallow his moans and kiss him while we both come down.

We stay like that until it seems too quiet. When did the rain stop? I reluctantly pull my mouth from Jason's to look around. The car windows are completely fogged, with little drops of condensation rolling down the panes of glass.

Jason blinks, seeming equally dazed. Eventually we break out in awkward laughter. I roll off his lap and try to fall into the seat next to him, but we're both pretty big guys and we end up still pressed against each other, my legs draped over his. We stare at one another in stunned silence. Maybe I should feel weirder about this. Maybe I should feel awkward or embarrassed or worried.

But it just feels right.

JASON

"What's that look for?" Mik asks me, reaching to run his fingers through the light hair that covers my chest. We're laying in my bed, where we've been since we got home yesterday afternoon. We've barely left this space, except to use the bathroom, eat, and hydrate.

We haven't stopped touching, kissing, or feeling each other since we stumbled home yesterday. Sometimes it hasn't even been sexual. Our touches have become more about learning each other in a new way, exploring and getting to know this new aspect of a deep friendship. More often than not, that exploration has led to mutual pleasure. It's not just about getting off. Call me a sap, but I don't think it would feel this good if it was just a physical thing. No, this is a culmination of the pent-up feelings I've been harboring for my best friend since we first met. Feelings that he was apparently having, too.

How long has he felt the same?

Neither of us said a thing for four long years. We've gone about our business and pretended we could just be friends. Neither of us wanted to risk our friendship. I didn't want to risk being a stereotypical gay guy that falls in love with his straight best friend. It may be a popular trope for movies and the romance novels I know Mik likes reading, but it's unrealistic.

Then again, here we are…

"I just can't believe this is happening," I admit, not wanting to sound too pathetic, but I know Mik wouldn't judge me. His shy grin says he feels the same .

Fuck me. This must be some kind of dream.

I pull him close, until there's no space between us, and we're lying skin to skin. My lips brush over his, and I close my eyes, replaying every step that brought us here.

The way he watched me while we were working out last week. Trying to ignore the way my knees brushed up against his erection while I did sit-ups. I told myself it was just a stimulus response. Except he had that look in his eye, the same one I'd catch him looking at me with from time to time. Initially, I'd thought he was lost in his own thoughts or confused or disappointed about something I said or did. But this time I read more into it. I read… longing.

Mik huffed out a breath. "Oh, fuck it." And then his lips were on mine.

What. A. Mindfuck.

Mik's cell phone vibrates loudly, pulling me out of my thoughts. He grabs the phone off the end table and groans.

"Janel again?" I ask. She's been calling non-stop since this morning.

He sighs and frowns at the screen. "Yeah." I watch him turn the phone completely off and toss it to the floor before he presses himself against me again. His lips move against my neck. "I feel bad that I don't feel bad about dumping her."

"She'll be okay." Then I wince, thinking about the last time he thought he'd officially broken up with my sister. "Are you sure she really got it this time, though?"

He nods. "I took my key back," he says, probably remembering our awkward exchange that morning after I'd run into her coming out of his bedroom. I'd felt ridiculous and like an asshole for being so disappointed to see her.

"And I… I told her there was someone else," he says in a low voice .

I turn my head to look into his dark hazel eyes and see the worry in them. We're going to have to tell her who that someone else is at some point, and there's no guessing how she'll react. He doesn't want to hurt her, even though she's been kind of a bitch to him. I love my sister, but she can be a lot to handle. She's probably more upset about the time and effort she put into ‘training' Mik to be her picture-perfect boyfriend than she is the breakup itself. The way she was always trying to change him rubbed me the wrong way, and we'd argued about it multiple times over the past few years. She always brushed me off or made a crude comment about me wanting my best friend's dick. Considering she had no idea how on the mark she was, I was quick to back off.

I always thought he deserved better, but I never dreamed it'd be me.

"She'll be okay," I repeat, lifting a hand to push a lock of hair behind his ear before cupping the back of his head and pulling him in for another kiss.

Mik groans and rolls on top of me, deepening the kiss.

Fucking hell . He kisses me like he's devouring my soul, stealing my air and my sanity with each soft swipe of his tongue against mine. A tingling starts in my lower back, and my balls tighten. My hips roll against his body, rubbing our bare cocks together in a dance we've perfected over the past twenty-four hours. I reach between us, wrapping my hand around both of us. Mik breaks the kiss to look at our cocks pressed together in my hand. His mouth opens on a gasp as he thrusts into my hand, a burst of pre-cum erupting from his slit. Rolling my palm over his crown, I spread it down and use it to lube my strokes.

"Oh, Jesus. Fuck," he pants, and I'm nearing the edge just from his reaction. The facial expressions, the sounds he makes—it's all too delicious. I want to come, to bathe in his release, to mark each other and know that we have the rest of our lives to do it again and again. But there's a part of me that is afraid this is all some kind of beautiful, vivid, wet fever dream. One that I want to drag out forever, to never wake from.

Before I burst all over him for the fourth time today, I release our cocks and roll him over. "This time when I make you come, I want to taste you."

He chokes out a groan, and I smile against his mouth before trailing my lips over his jaw and down his neck. I suck on his Adam's apple, and then lick down to his tight, brown nipples. He shudders as I suck them into my mouth one at a time. I love how sensitive they are, the gasp of pleasure and the way his hips jerk when I bite down gently. So responsive. Every gasp and groan encourages me to keep going. I've held back, not wanting to break the spell by going too far and scaring him off. He's never been with a man before, and according to him, never even considered it outside of his attraction to me. All our touching and exploring so far has either been tentative or frenzied, with nothing in between. It's been a lot of kissing and hand jobs, but I want to show him so much more.

Continuing my path downwards, I trace his cut abs with my tongue and follow the V of his lean muscles down to his pelvis. He wiggles and jerks when I lick the crease where his thigh meets his torso, and I use the movement to shimmy myself between his legs until his cock is jutting up in front of my face. He's fucking glorious. Long and uncut and beautiful. The bulbous purple head of his cock is leaking, drops of pre-cum rolling down his shaft. My mouth waters, and I lick my lips. My eyes dart up to find Mik propped up on his elbows, watching with hooded eyes. Keeping my gaze locked on his, I run the flat of my tongue from the base of his balls, slowly up his long shaft. The slightly sweet and bitter flavor of his cum bursts on my tongue and I flutter my eyes closed, groaning.

"Fuck, you taste good," I say, wrapping a hand around his base. Holding him steady, I lower my mouth over his crown and swirl my tongue to gather more of his sweet release before taking him deeper .

Mik hisses and drops his head back, one hand finding its way into my hair. I push myself lower, taking him all the way into the back of my throat.

"Jesus, Jay," he exclaims in a hoarse whisper, his fingers fisting into my hair. "That feels… fuck ."

Bobbing on his cock, I take him to the edge, letting his pre-cum and my saliva drip everywhere. When I feel his thighs tighten, I pull back, licking him like a lollipop while he pants.

"Do you trust me?" I ask, watching his expression for any signs of doubt.

"Of course," he says, dark brows furrowing. I try to suppress a wicked smirk as I kiss down the length of his cock and take his balls into my mouth, one at a time, while my thumb gently massages his taint.

"Jay, what are you?—"

A deep moan erupts from his throat instead of whatever he was about to say next when I move my thumb down to his hole. He tenses, but I don't pull away. Instead, I take his cock in my mouth again, repositioning myself so I can take him as deep as possible, massaging his hole while I deep throat him. He relaxes and rocks his hips, thrusting deeper into my mouth, testing my gag reflex. I manage to keep myself together, spit flowing freely out of the sides of my mouth, pouring over my fingers and wetting my passage as I push one finger inside. He cries out when it breaches the first ring of muscle, but makes no move to stop me and he doesn't stop thrusting into my throat.

"Fuck!" he shouts as my finger pushes in to the second knuckle, and I barely brush over his prostate before he explodes in my mouth. I crook my finger and massage the pleasure spot until I've milked him dry, and we're both left panting .

He recovers faster than I do, considering he's the one that just shot off into my mouth. Pulling me up for a filthy kiss, he flips us over.

"Teach me how to do that."

MIK

Water cascades over my head, washing away the last of the shampoo I worked through my hair. It's overgrown, but I might never cut it ever again. A grin stretches over my lips as I think about the way Jason likes to grip the nape of my hair to keep me in place while he tongue fucks my mouth into oblivion.

Fuck. Is this really my life?

The last week has been a blur. Life has continued as it always has, with work and classes every day and practice twice a week. The normalcy of my days is only challenged by the nights and mornings I spend with him, but even that feels strangely normal. We've settled into a new routine that's both comfortable and exciting.

We didn't leave the apartment for two days after we finally succumbed to the feelings we've both been carrying around for years. Now I spend my days watching the clock, waiting to get back to him. Waiting until the moment I can strip down and plaster myself to him. There's so much missed time to make up for. The only way I can rectify how much of an idiot I've been for the past four years is to maintain skin to skin contact every possible moment.

I was so afraid I would screw us up, that I'd lose him as a friend. We're closer than ever, now.

But not close enough.

Two weeks ago, two months ago, two years ago—I would have been overthinking the dynamics of what goes where and how to do what. But if there's one thing I've learned since the day the barriers between us fell, it's that my body knows what it wants, and that Jason knows how to give it to me. Sex is a different experience with him. For once, it's not something I have to overthink. We fit in a way I never thought possible. In a way I never thought I would crave as much as I do.

Jason pumped the brakes after it became clear I was diving headfirst into all of this without a care in the world. He's concerned that I should be more weirded out, afraid I'll freak out or something. He wants to give me time to think clearly with the right head and reconsider.

What he doesn't understand is that this was already written. It was always going to happen. It was always going to be us. There's no one else for me and hasn't been since the first time I saw him. I was afraid of it for so long, but I'm not afraid anymore.

I don't want to go slow. I just want him. All of him.

"Mik? You in here?" Jason pokes his head through the open bathroom door. "Hey," he says, his deep, gravelly voice making my cock perk up.

"Hey," I parrot, opening the shower door and leaning towards him for a kiss. He steps forward and presses his lips to mine, and the now familiar aching need warms me from the inside out. I groan. It's not enough.

My hand snakes into the front waistband of his track pants, and I pull him into the shower. He pretends to huff at his clothes getting wet, but conveniently doesn't have his wallet or phone anywhere on him. We work together to strip him down until his broad chest is rubbing against mine and his thick thigh presses between my legs. I grind myself against him, my cock growing harder by the second.

It's understandable that he'd be worried I'd freak out over being with a man, since all I've ever known is women. And yeah, it's hard not to compare the feel of his big, strong body with what I'm used to. But instead of being thrown off by it, I marvel at how right he feels. I love every inch of his burly body pressed against me. It's all so much better and easier than I ever imagined.

I've been in love with my best friend for years, and now I finally have him. I'm not sure there's a way he could touch me that I wouldn't like. Everything he's done—rough or tender, fast or slow—it's all good. It's all perfect.

And I want so much more.

His big, calloused hands run up and down the length of my back. He grips the globes of my ass and pulls me against him. He lifts me like I weigh nothing, and I couldn't care less about my masculinity. I can't be bothered to give a single fuck for anything when he's kissing me like this. Instinctively, I wrap my legs around his waist and moan like a slut as he presses me back against the tile wall and sucks on my throat.

"Jason," I pant against his mouth. "I want you to fuck me."

He stills and his teeth clamp down on my neck. I hiss and buck against him, two seconds from fucking whimpering like a girl.

I lower my mouth to the shell of his ear and try to keep the tremble out of my voice. "I prepped for you."

A strangled sound escapes against my neck before he pulls back and looks at me. The sky blue of his eyes looks darker than usual as he appraises me. "You prepped?"

I nod and bite my lip, trying to cover up my nerves. He stares at me so long I worry he's doubting my resolve, so I reach between us. My hand wraps around his thick girth and squeezes, drawing a grunt from him. "I want you, Jason. All of you."

Jason's eyes roll up to the ceiling like he's trying to find the patience to say no. I reach for the shower shelf, grabbing the bottle of lube I was using earlier. I pour some in my hand before returning it to his dick, stroking him and coating him with the slick liquid .

"I want to feel you inside me."

His eyes squeeze shut, a curse on his lips. "Mik–"

"Don't Mik me, just fuck me already."

His eyes capture mine again, pupils dilated. Pressing me harder against the tile, he repositions us and I think for a moment that this is it . I take a deep breath as subtly as I can and force my body to relax. I feel his cock brush the underside of my ass, but he doesn't ram into me like I was expecting. No, he just fucking smirks like the smug bastard he is. His hands are on my ass, fingers pressing into my crack.

"How many fingers?" he asks.

"H-huh?"

"How many fingers did you fuck yourself with to prep yourself for me?"

Jesus. I could come from his dirty talk alone. That voice.

"Two."

Jason lifts me higher, adjusting us so his cock is sandwiched between my ass cheeks. Fuck, he's big.

"You really think two fingers are enough to prep your tiny virgin hole for this?" he asks, thrusting his cock between my cheeks.

I shouldn't be turned on by him referring to me as tiny and virginal—I'm six feet tall and, although I don't have the bulk that Jason has, I'm not small by any means. But there's something undeniably sexy about being manhandled by him, so I'm not complaining. I grunt as two fingers that are much thicker than mine push inside me.

I gasp at the intrusion. "Oh, fuck ."

"You want me to fuck you, Mik? "

I nod, trying not to choke on water as my body gets jostled with every thrust of his fingers inside me.

"You think you can take me?"

"I can take you," I rasp.

"We'll see about that."

Jason pulls his fingers out of me and drops me to my feet before spinning me around to face the wall. My hands brace against the wall as he pulls my hips, forcing my ass out. A hand caresses down my spine, water sluicing off as he positions me just so. I hear the click of the lube cap, and then his fingers are inside me again, spreading and opening me wider. Just as I'm adjusting to the intrusion, there's more, and then more, until I'm sucking in deep breaths as I try to relax around four fingers.

"That's it, baby. You're almost ready," he purrs, and a rush of blood has my cock weeping.

Every time I think he's about to spear me with his massive cock, he does something completely different, probably just to spite me. This time he turns me around and presses me against the wall again, taking my mouth in a deep, filthy kiss that makes me dizzy.

"Jason," I whine.

"So impatient."

I bite his lip, and he makes that growly sound that thumps me right in the balls.

The water turns off, and he pulls me out of the shower. He hands me a towel, but I just stand there, watching him casually drying himself off. What the fuck is happening here?

When it's clear that I'm not capable of normal behavior, he takes the towel from me and dries me off before wrapping the towel around my hips and using it to pull me into his bedroom. He sits on the edge of the bed and pulls me between his legs.

"Are you absolutely sure about this?"

"Fuck, Jason. Yes, I'm ready. I've been ready." I look down into his sky blue eyes and see the concern there. He's still worried I'm going to change my mind, chalk this up to some experiment, or run away screaming. Hell, if nothing else, I want to do this to prove to him that I'm serious about this. About us. "I want this. I want you ."

He nods up at me, and I bend down to kiss him again. I follow his lead as he scoots back against the headboard, crawling over him and straddling his wide body.

"You're in control," he says. "But go slow." Before I can roll my eyes and complain about him thinking I can't handle him, he cuts me off with a kiss and murmurs against my lips. "Go easy on me."

Another bottle of lube appears from under the pillow, and he pours some into my hand. I stroke it over his length, feeling every inch of his girth and the way it curves, marveling that he'll be inside of me soon.

Am I worried it won't fit? A little. Am I scared it'll hurt? I'm almost positive it will. But I want it. It'll be worth it to be this close to him.

Jason pulls out a condom, and I stare at it.

"Do we need that?" I ask. It's not like he can get me pregnant.

He shrugs. "I've never had sex without one," he says. "I'm negative, though."

"Me too," I say. "I just had a physical." And I've only been with your sister . I'm pretty sure he's thinking the same thing, but neither of us says it out loud. Thinking it is awkward enough.

"It's up to you," he says .

I take the condom away from him and toss it over my shoulder. "I want to feel you."

That's what I say out loud. But the entire time, I'm thinking so much more.

As he helps me situate myself, leaning back against the headboard to let me take control, I'm thinking about how this is so much more than just sex.

I want to feel him inside me because it feels right that there should be some tangible feeling attached to what I already feel inside. As I push myself down over this thick crown and feel the burn of his cock breaching me for the first time, I relish the pain. I want to be marked. Owned. I want there to be proof that this is real.

With a deep breath, I sink lower, my chest filling with a heavy emotion that rivals the stretch of letting him in. I have to look away from his bright blue eyes boring into me, reflecting the emotion that I'm feeling, because now that we've started, I'm wondering if I can actually handle it. Not even physically. Although, as I glance down, I realize I haven't taken him even halfway. But I'm already so full.

"Hey," Jason says softly, directing my gaze back to his. A soft smile plays over his lips, but his eyes still hold all the sincerity in the world. "You okay?"

I nod, because, yeah. I'm better than okay. But I also might be splitting apart in more ways than one. "Feels big," I say, letting the double meaning lighten the heaviness of the moment.

Jason sits up, careful not to jostle me too much, and takes my face in his hands. He kisses me soft and slow, and whispers against my lips. "Bear down and let me in."

Let me in , he says. But his eyes say more. They say he's been here all this time. He's the same guy that I've been in love with for years. He's still my best friend, and he's right here with me .

And as I bear down and sink farther down his length, the overwhelming fullness compounds itself. I have to hold in a sob.

This is it for me. You're it for me.

When my ass sits flush against him, he holds me still, kissing me until I'm wiggling, desperate to move.

"Slow," he says, and guides my hips.

I lift up, and then sink back down, a little more each time, until the burn is replaced by pure ecstasy and I'm riding him in earnest. His fingers dig into my hips, sweat rolls down both our bodies, and my cock slaps against our stomachs between us as I bounce on his cock. Our mouths never stray far from each other, even when we're too overcome by breathless pleasure to kiss. Jason swallows my moans, breathes my every exhale, and sucks on my frantic pulse until the room goes blurry. His big hand wraps around my cock and pumps me as I ride him.

My orgasm hits me like a tsunami, pulling me under. I can't even scream, just throw my head back and gasp for air as the waves of pleasure swallow me whole.

My whole body is shaking with the aftershocks of my orgasm, when Jason wraps his arms around me and flips us so I'm on my back. He hooks my legs over his arms and lifts himself up, muscles bulging as he pounds into me. My waning orgasm seems to build again, and I cry out as his cock pegs my prostate.

"Yes," he growls. "Let me hear you."

With every punishing stroke of his cock inside me, I moan and cry and wail as another intense wave of pleasure pulls me under.

"Fuck!" Jason yells as his body tenses, and I gasp at the heat filling me as he empties inside me.

His thrusts become gentle rolls of his hips, and he rides out the last vestiges of his climax. When he moves to pull out of me, I hold him against me, not ready to let him go yet. My heart is beating rapidly.

"Stay. Please. Just for another minute," I plea, almost timidly. I don't want to admit to the strength of the feelings overtaking me as I come down from the most intense experience I've ever had in my life.

"Are you okay?"

I laugh. "So good. You?"

His chest rumbles, and he struggles to hold himself up on trembling arms through his laughter. He looks down at me, amused but sober. "Perfect," he says.

I finally let him pull his softening cock out of me, and he settles behind me, pulling me against his chest. His hands touch me everywhere, unknowingly soothing the rush of emotion and anxiety that overtakes me. It's like watching a horror film, knowing a jump scare is just around the corner. I don't know where these feelings are coming from or why I'm waiting for something bad to happen.

I'm thoroughly distracted when Jason's fingers caress down my ass and through the mess seeping out of me.

Am I supposed to like that this much? The knowledge that his cum is leaking out of my ass is… Fuuuuck, why is that so hot? Especially when Jason swipes through it and then pushes two fingers inside me, like he's pushing it back in.

"You're mine now, you realize that, right? This means you're mine."

That does something to me. My cock twitches, but the rest of me is too exhausted to move. "I already was," I murmur breathlessly.

Eventually I doze off, waking when the bed dips and a warm, wet cloth touches my skin. I'd be disappointed that he's cleaning me up if it didn't fill my chest with even more emotion. When he's done, he presses a gentle kiss to my asshole, which makes me huff a laugh.

"Fucking weirdo."

"Dude. Get used to it. Your ass is my new obsession."

He settles behind me in bed, pulling a blanket over us, and I turn around to face him.

"So I was… okay?" It felt pretty fucking incredible to me, but it was my first time. For all I know, I could have been lame.

"You were perfect. Even better than I imagined."

I give him a saucy smirk that he somehow sees in the pale moonlight that filters through the blinds.

"Don't get cocky."

"Too late."

He huffs a laugh and pulls me closer, entwining our legs.

"It feels big, huh?" he snarks, but there's a sincerity in his voice that tells me he knows what I really meant.

I don't even bother to joke. "Really big."

Jason doesn't laugh, just pulls me in for a long kiss. "Feels big to me, too," he murmurs before tucking his face into my neck and inhaling deeply.

When his breaths even out and my eyes are too heavy to remain open any longer, I let the words tumble from my lips in a hoarse whisper.

"I love you."

I thought he was asleep, but he kisses my neck tenderly. His voice is gravelly and choked with what sounds like emotion but could be sleep.

"I love you too. I always have. "

Nodding, I sink into the bed, tangled around him like I plan to be for the rest of our lives.

"Always have. Always will."

Loud pounding wakes me from a deep sleep. Light filters in through the curtains, but it's dim enough to suggest that it's still early.

"What the fuck?" I groan, turning my head to look at the alarm clock. It's not even seven in the morning on a Saturday. We have a match today, but not until this afternoon.

Jason snorts out a laugh when I yell, "Go away!" and bury my head under the pillow. He tries to get up, but I pull him back down.

"No. Stay. They'll go away, eventually. We are sleeping until ten, and then you're going to fuck me in the shower before we play Siler City."

"Aren't you sore?" he says, chuckling, but gives into my demands to lie back down.

"Why don't you kiss my ass again and find out?" I snark.

"You think I won't?"

"I have zero doubts you would," I say, eyes still closed. I keep them closed, even when I feel Jason move down my naked body. His lips brush my hip, and his fingers brush lightly over my morning wood.

"How about I tongue fuck your ass until you come? Would that get you out of bed early enough to go out for breakfast?"

I crack one eye open and look down at his smirking face.

"You're a kinky motherfucker, aren't you?"

"Oh, baby. You have no idea. "

Honestly, he could be into some real weird, freaky shit that I've never even heard of, and I'd probably be into it. Even if it's gross, I'd do it. It's better to just come to terms with it now, early in our relationship.

Just as his warm mouth closes around my cock, the pounding at the front door becomes so loud Jason can't hear my moans of pleasure. He must not, because he stops. Despite my protests, he releases my throbbing cock with a pop and stands up.

"Just let me get that. Maybe something's wrong."

"The building could be on fire, and I'd still want to come before I get out of this bed. There's no way I'm walking around with this thing," I say flatly, gesturing to the massive erection I'm now sporting.

"Noted." Jason pulls on a pair of sweats and winks at me. "I'll just be a minute."

Groaning, I flop back against the pillows and contemplate the tongue-fucking thing. Now that he's brought it up, I'm curious. Does that actually feel good? I kind of want to try it now. What does ass even taste like? Not gonna lie, I'd probably stick my tongue right up Jason's sweaty ass after a rugby match, right after burying my nose in his armpit. I fucking love the way he smells after a game. Just thinking about his musky sweat has me planning how to get him alone before the sweat dries on his skin…

"Mik!"

What the fuck is she doing here?!

I barely have time to cover up my naked, hard cock before Janel storms into the room. She looks fucked up, like she's been out all night binge drinking. She's paler than usual. Her face looks pinched and gaunt like she's lost weight in the past couple of weeks since I've seen her last. There are dark circles beneath her eyes, and her red hair is piled on top of her head in a tangled bun. Damn. Now I feel even more guilty for not answering or returning her calls and texts, but I was afraid she was going to try denying the breakup again.

"Shit, Janel. Are you okay?"

"No, I'm not okay!" she shrieks. "You've been ignoring me for two fucking weeks!"

"Hey, hey. I'm sorry, okay?" I say gently, holding my hands up in front of me like I'm trying to calm a wild animal. "What do you need?"

Clearly something's wrong, and she needs help. I can still be there for her without being with her. After two years together, I owe her that much respect, at least.

I sit up, trying to keep the sheet around my waist. It's nothing she hasn't seen before, but now isn't the time. Janel blinks at me like it's just now dawning on her that I'm naked. In bed. Not even my bed— Her brother's bed . She doesn't say anything, but the expression on her face gives me the impression that she's putting it together. She looks confused and sad. Her eyes fill up with tears, and I know I have to say something.

"This isn't how I wanted you to find out–"

"I'm pregnant."