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“If she’ll have me.”
“She will.”
“We shall see.” He sounded doubtful. “Jess?”
“Yeah, babe.”
“You’ve just professed your love for me. I need you on my dick.”
Jesse pushed his slacks down his legs and kicked them off. He grabbed Taylor by the hair and kissed him. “I fucking love you so much.”
“And I you.”
Taylor took off his clothes and got Jesse ready for him. No lube. Just his mouth, his tongue. Jesse hissed as Taylor slowly swallowed his dick. “Fuck.”
He thought of how lucky he was. To love them. To be loved by them. Jesse knew Taylor loved him. He was pretty sure Chloe loved him—it felt like she did. He’d make sure to tell her how much he loved her. And he’d show her. He’d show them both every fucking day.
Always.
Taylor pressed in on that spot behind his balls. He poured his love down his throat and watched him swallow. He loved that and sat up to kiss him, tasting himself. He fondled Taylor’s balls and turned onto his belly. Taylor spread the twin globes of muscle apart and penetrated him with his tongue, sucking and kissing him there until he was ready. Ready for his lover’s cock inside him.
“I love you, Jesse.”
He couldn’t wait to share all of this with Chloe.
Soon, little rose.
Taylor pushed his way in and groaned. “Fuck, baby. Fuck.”
Jesse loved the initial penetration most. The burn of the tissue as it stretched to accommodate Taylor. He loved the way his fat dick invaded his ass and made every synapse in his body fire. He loved how Taylor knew just how to fuck the cum right out of him. He just loved him. It was simple.
“I love you, Taylor.”
And I love you too, Chloe.
It felt so good to say them. The words. To feel them.
All that was left was to live them.
He felt certain they could. Together.
Something was different. Off. Chloe couldn’t put her finger on it, but something about Jesse was different and it unsettled her. Their relationship was still too new for her to feel completely confident in it, especially after last night.
She went home alone.
Things to take care of. What fucking things?
She was probably being irrational. Overthinking. She just wasn’t used to these anxious feelings. What do you do with them? It wasn’t like she expected Jesse to spend every day and every night with her…but ever since their first night together he had, and she let herself get used to waking up spooned against him.
It wasn’t like he didn’t text her or anything while they were apart last night. He did. And he showed up at her apartment extra early this morning before they met his cousins at Linn’s place for the drive up to the lake house. He made love to her; so sweet, soft, and tender. They showered together after. It wasn’t an outward change in his behavior that alarmed her, yet it definitely felt like something was different.
From the other side of the lake, fireworks appeared with a boom in the purple sky and sizzled into the water. Chloe absently sipped on her bottle of craft brew, snuggled against Jesse as they all sat together on the deck after dinner. She glanced over at Linnea, who much like her, was cozied up with Kyan, but with a glass of champagne in her hand. They needed some girl time. Since she’d orchestrated the male invasion of girls’ night a few weeks ago, they’d both been so caught up in their new relationships that they hadn’t been able to have any, outside of seeing each other at Charley’s. If she could just talk it all out with Linnea, she knew she’d feel better—it was a bestie thing.
Dillon popped the cork on another bottle of champagne. He stood over Linnea, wearing only ripped muscles, board shorts that hung low on his hips, and that dazzling smile he was known for, and refilled her glass. Was she the only one who noticed the lovesick way he was looking at her?
“Is that all you drink anymore, Linn?” Chloe took a sip from the bottle of beer in her hand. “Champagne is for special occasions.”
And if she thought Dillon looked lovesick, his brother was absolutely smitten. Kyan had that dreamy stargazed look in his eyes. She could almost imagine animated hearts shooting out of them like you’d see on a cartoon.
