Page 220 of Midnight Curfew

“You think I’m just a kid,” he continues, “but it won’t go away. It’ll never go away.”

I watch him watching me, the same thought probably occurring to us both. He was right. It never went away.

I was Nero, wasn’t I? Not him.

I wouldn’t listen. I wouldn’t learn.

“So I love you and fuck me and thank you very much for this,” he hisses on the phone. “Thank you for not giving me the only thing I want, because then you’ll always be able to treat me like shit and I’ll take it just so I can have you.”

It ends, and I soak in the sight of him here—with me and happy—relieved that he came back for me. In whatever way.

“I wouldn’t listen to it,” I admit. “I was afraid of what you were going to say, and I didn’t want to hear you say you hated me.”

Tossing my phone down, I lean over him again.

“I didn’t want to hear your voice.” I tell him everything I was feeling at that time, too. “It hurt like shit to not see you. To not go to you. I wanted you so fucking bad.”

He brings his arms down, holding my body.

“I couldn’t understand why I couldn’t forget you.” I shake my head. “What the hell did you do that made you so special? Until eventually, I became so addicted to the escape that it’s all I thought about.” I take his face in my hand. “My mother didn’t fuck me up half as much as falling in love with you did.”

He gives me a sad smile.

“I fell in love with you a long time ago, Callum,” I say.

I kiss his mouth, coming in again and again, moving to his forehead, his jaw, his neck…“I love you,” I whisper again.

“I love you.”

And I hear the smile in his voice when he says it.

In a moment, he’s wrapping his arm around my waist and rolling me over onto my back. Straddling me, he covers my chest with his mouth and tongue, and I start to hear a headboard hitting a wall somewhere in the house.

Unfastening my belt, he opens my pants, and I lift my ass up so he can pull them down a little.

My dick springs out.

“You’re always so hard, so fast,” he breathes out, tonguing my tip as he looks up at me. “You know how beautiful your body is?”

As long as he thinks so…

He swallows me, covering my length, the heat of his wet mouth making me shudder. “Ah…”

“I want a mirror above our headboard.” He strokes me as he kisses everywhere around my dick. “I love to watch your body work.”

I thread my fingers through his hair, pleasure spreading up my stomach, down my legs, and I lift my head, watching his lips and the tip of his tongue drift up my shaft, tasting me. Holding my eyes, he licks the cum off the head.

Please.

He must see the begging in my eyes. He crawls up my body and kisses me. “Lube?”

I paw for the bedside drawer, and he reaches over, digging it out.

I want his fucking mouth on mine. Rising up, I slide my hand up his chest, feeling every ridge, every curve as he rubs oil on my dick.

Wait. What is he…?

“Are you good?” he asks.