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My Matthew.
When I arrive home, Matthew is outside on the balcony, his eyes closed, a blanket pulled over him. I love that he is finding more time to relax now and that I can provide that for him. But mostly, I love that he’s here. That I have someone to come home to.
“Hey,” he says, peeling back one eyelid and glancing at me. It shuts almost immediately and he sighs, tucking himself under the blanket even further. Well, doesn’t he look just cozy. I want to crawl under there too, want to get a little up close and personal on this lounger.
“Just laid out here to listen to the ocean and accidentally fell asleep.”
“Good,” I say, moving toward him and running a hand through his hair. It’s become a bit of a habit for me, touching him like this, and I don’t hate it. Neither does he. He arches into it like he usually does. But unlike before, he sits up and scoots forward.
I don’t move for a second, and he glances up at me with a furrowed brow.
“Get back there.”
“Yes sir,” I say with as much snark as I can muster to hide my stammering heart and then slide in behind him, letting my legs fall to his sides and pulling his back to my chest. Because I’m the smaller one in most of my relationships, I usually end up being held more often than not, but right now, I really love that Matthew wants to be cuddled. That I’m the big spoon.
My arms move around him, cradling him to me, and my hands fall to his strong chest. The blanket is pulled up over us both and he settles into me, melting like a lit candle.
I can’t help but touch him, running my hands up and down his chest, feeling the hard nubs of his nipples, the way his abdomen contracts when my fingers glide over them. He’s so responsive, so sensitive.
“That feels good,” he sighs as he snuggles in further.
“Yeah?” I ask and then drag his shirt up and let my hands slide against his bare skin. He lets out a small, desperate moan, and I feel that sound slide through my skin and settle somewhere in my chest.
Those sounds, those needy little mewls make my dick hard.
“Did you have a good day?” I ask as my thumbs run across his nipples.
His breath hitches and he turns slightly and nuzzles his face into my neck. He probably doesn’t even realize that he’s doing it, but he is. And it’s driving me crazy.
“Yeah, it was okay. It’s nice to get home at an earlier time, now that my commute is shorter. I even stopped on the beach and picked up a few more shells. I know it’s dumb…” he trails off.
“Not dumb. They’re treasures, Matthew. I can’t wait to see them.”
“Thank you for doing that with me,” he says softly. “I like having somewhere I can put them. Display them.”
“Always.”
He shifts slightly and his nose brushes my neck. “I had to hide that shit growing up. Liking pretty things.”
“Well, that’s infuriating,” I say as I reach down and tug his shirt off over his head and toss it onto the ground. “There, that’s better.”
My fingers dig into his shoulders as I massage him, and he sighs.
“It is, but it’s nice not having to hide things, you know?”
“I do know,” I say as my fingers drag down his chest to the waistband of his sweatpants. I let my fingertip trace the line of it, dipping beneath the elastic and making his breath catch.
“Do you collect pretty things, Coop?” he asks when my thumb swirls around his belly button.
“I do. You already know I like soap. But you know what else I like? Lacy underwear.”
“Of course you do.”
“I do. It’s gorgeous. Would you like to see some of them?”
I’m teasing, half-expecting him to tell me to go to hell, but instead, he just sits up, the blanket puddling around his waist.
“Yeah. Okay. Show me.”
