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“I pulled you on top of me, didn’t I? And I must have dug into your lower back.”
“Yeah…”
“So what aren’t you telling me? I’m pretty sure nothing actually happened beyond that. Bits and pieces are coming to me.”
“You, uh, called me Drew and then started throwing up.”
Ciaran blinked a few times. “Fuck,” he breathed out. “Matty, I’m sorry. That was shitty of me.”
“I should be the one apologizing, babe,” I said. “I should have handled the situation better.”
“Matty,” Ciaran started, “no one is to blame here. You know now that I was hung up on Drew when I first arrived. I gained the closure I needed last night.” He cupped my jaw with such tenderness that I felt the burn of tears behind my eyes. “It’s you I want. It’s been you since we met, even if we fought it.”
“So you’re not upset?”
He shook his head. “I’m actually relieved. I’d been low-key jealous thinking you hooked up with someone that night.”
He leaned up to kiss me.
“Still,” I added, “I’m sorry I didn’t say something sooner. I didn’t know how to bring it up without bringing him into the conversation.”
“No, I know. And thank you.” He kissed me again. “I love that you took care of me that night.” Okay, so it wasn’t a declaration of love, I thought, but I could be patient. Ciaran was worth waiting for. Ciaran peered at the clock and let out a reluctant sigh. “I hate to say this, but we should probably get cleaned up and head back to Malibu.”
“Ciaran Galbraith, the voice of reason.” I lifted my head so I could look into his face. “We could stay here and live off my trust fund,” I joked.
“And Mr. Moneybags has returned,” he deadpanned.
“You have the worst nicknames for me, sweetheart.”
“Perks of being Matthias Vaulteneau’s boyfriend.”
Well, that made me speechless.
Ciaran snickered. He bit my chin a second before he pushed me off. I tried to grab him, but he quickly jumped out of bed. Not that I was complaining about the view of Ciaran’s firm backside as he slipped into the bathroom.
“Holy shit,” Ciaran gasped from the other room. He saw the hickeys. A minute later, the shower turned on. He popped his head in the doorway, his blond curls flopping into his eyes. “Are you coming?”
Hell yes.
In the shower, we made quick work of cleaning each other while our erections acted like jousting rods eager to play together.
“This is going to be a problem,” Ciaran muttered as he rutted up against me. His eyes fluttered closed and I had him pressed against the shower wall.
I took both our cocks in hand and started stroking. “A problem I’m only too happy to solve.”
Ciaran hissed and let his head fall on my shoulder. His hands roamed, landing on my hips, ass, and up my chest. Feeling his shaft pressed tight against mine, both in my grip, fired my insides.
I wanted the sensation to last, to make it good for both of us, but in reality, we’d entered the shower already on edge. It wouldn’t take long.
“I’m close,” he sobbed.
His mouth captured mine.
“Me, too,” I moaned into his lips.
Ciaran arched into my strokes, his moans and mutterings beautiful but unintelligible. He pressed erratic open-mouth kisses on my collarbone.
I loved his responsiveness, the way he gave himself up to pleasure.
