Page 64 of Phoenix

“Call off the search parties, he’s alive!” Lydia said as soon as Jule answered her phone call.

“Hey, Lydia. It’s been a crazy month. I’ve been meaning to call you back.” After the awkward evening a few years earlier when Lydia had come into his apartment and heard him with Tor, they’d established a better friendship. They had continued to serve as one another’s plus ones for their social obligations, and they spent time together beyond that. True to her promise, Lydia never told anyone about what happened that night and she also hadn’t pressed Jule to talk about Tor specifically or his dating life in general.

“Uh-huh. Is this the part where you come up with a believable explanation for why your thumbs weren’t working well enough to send a single text over the past five weeks? Because I was worried to the point that I was seriously considering calling your mother.”

“I’ve been busy with Tor.”

There was a long silence and then Lydia said, “Tor as in Tori?”

“That’s the one.”

“Wow. You’re actually acknowledging him. I didn’t expect this. I’m not prepared. I need to dig out my list of invasive questions.”

“How about you skip the questions and come meet him instead?” Jule wanted to integrate Tor into his life openly, but it was proving to be a challenge because he really didn’t have much of a life. They’d had dinner with his mother and her husband Langston, but that was the end of the list. His mother’s parents were on a European cruise. His father’s parents were still livid that he had a personal relationship with the son of the woman who led their son astray, not to mention Tor also being the son ofthe man who killed him, so Jule wasn’t talking to them. He had never interacted socially with his work colleagues so it wouldn’t make sense to start now. And he didn’t have friends apart from Tor and his brothers. Lydia was the only exception.

Another long silence and then, “This is Julian Sterling, right? Because the name on my screen says that’s who I called and the voice sounds right but the words aren’t adding up.”

“Is that a no?”

“Are you kidding me, it’s an absolute yes. I’ll pick up dinner and be there in half an hour.” Lydia sounded giddy.

“You don’t have—”

“Hanging up before you change your mind! See you soon.” The call ended.

Laughing to himself, Jule tossed the phone onto his bed. Intending to fill Tor in on their new dinner plans, he made his way out of the bedroom and over to the kitchen. And then he caught sight of Tor and lost his train of thought entirely. He was leaning against the counter, drinking a glass of water, and wearing cut-off sweatpants and nothing else. The man was insanely hot. And he was all his, not for a couple of days at a time. Permanently his.

Grinning, Jule strode over to him and grabbed his sac through the shorts. “No underwear,” he rasped.

Tor calmly set the glass down, took hold of the hand on his groin and used it to pull Jule against his chest, and then he kissed him. Like always, the passion burned hot and bright between them. Their hands roamed over backs and squeezed asses as they shared wet open-mouthed kisses. He cupped Tor’s groin again, moaning at the hardness now filling his palm. Tor reached for his jeans, flicked open his button, and lowered his zipper. Knowing exactly what he wanted, Jule turned around, planted both hands on the counter, and bent over. Behind him, Tor groaned. He pressed a soft kiss to Jule’s nape, separatedfrom him for a few moments, and then he pulled Jule’s jeans and briefs to just under the shelf of his ass and pushed his slick cock into him.

“Fuck,” Jule grunted in pleasure.

Tor threaded the fingers of one hand with Jule’s and gripped his hip with the other, holding him steady while he pumped into his body. “Jule,” he rasped into his ear, his breath hot and damp.

One of the many things he relished about sex with Tor was his ability to always, always make Jule feel cherished. His preferred position was the one they were in—his back to Tor’s front—but Tor never ended the contact below the waist. No matter their location or if they were standing or lying down, Tor wrapped him in his arms, held his hand, and kissed or licked or bit his neck or shoulder or ear. Being enveloped by Tor, covered by his body and his scent, was equal parts thrilling and comforting.

Jule turned his head and their mouths connected, lips and tongues and teeth, gasps and moans and grunts. “Jesus, fuck, I’m going to come already.” Jule faced the counter again and dropped his forehead onto it, no longer able to hold himself up.

Tor draped his chest against Jule’s back and squeezed his hand tightly as he increased the pace of his thrusts.

It wasn’t long before Jule was screaming himself hoarse and shooting all over the front of the kitchen cabinet.

“God damn it, Jule.” Tor’s voice was raw. “Fuck.” He pushed in as deep as possible and held Jule to him as he trembled and came inside him. Neither of them moved for a long time and Jule enjoyed Tor’s weight on top of him, Tor’s hand holding his, and Tor’s breath and lips on his neck. “When does that boring part you keep threatening happen?”

Jule snorted. “When we’re eighty.”

“Stay there.” Tor pulled back. “I’ll clean you up.”

“Since when do I mind a little splooge on my ass?”

Tor wet a paper towel under the sink and then squeezed it. “I meant the cooking oil.” He gently wiped the towel over Jule’s thighs and up his crack.

“You coated your cock in oil?”

“Mmm hmm.” Tor raised Jule’s briefs and jeans over the swell of his ass and then tucked him in.

“Which one?”