Page 69 of The Lipstick Flip

“Oh God, Howie,” he said, and he sounded like he was about to cry.

“Go on, baby,” I said. “Get that fucking nut.”

When he didn’t move, I thrust up into him. It wasn’t like I had a lot of room to maneuver. It was more like I was adding pressure to where he already had me positioned. But Noah made a broken noise, and his hand whipped down to jerk himself off, and his ass closed like a vise around my dick as he started to come.

“Oh God,” he said in that broken voice. “Oh God. Oh God.”

And then the arrow of spine and shoulders curved, and he put one hand on my leg to steady himself.

I ran my fingers over his ass. “There you go.”

“Oh my fucking God.”

“You like that?”

In answer, his head lolled back. His eyes were closed.

I couldn’t help it; I laughed.

“Why are you such an animal?” Noah snapped, head coming up again. But he was smiling as he turned around. Smiling and trying to look pissed. “You were supposed to wait!”

“Because I like watching you come apart,” I said with a lying-down shrug.

“Do you want to…” Noah asked, and he arched his back a little.

“Slide off,” I told him.

“I don’t mind.”

Which no, he probably didn’t. But he was always so sensitive after.

I gave his ass a final squeeze. “Go on, babe.”

He eased himself off me. He hadn’t done all that much riding, so to speak, but his legs looked like they were trembling.

As soon as my dick was free, I gave it a few jerks. I was close, and I shot across my stomach and up my chest. It wasn’t quite virgin’s-first-nut quality, the way it had been when we’d jacked off over FaceTime, but it was unexpectedly embarrassing, like he could see how much I’d wanted that, how much I’d liked it.

Not that Noah said anything. Or did anything. He just slumped down beside me on the bed, his head on my chest.

“Careful,” I managed to say.

“I’ve had your come on my face before,” Noah mumbled as he collapsed.

And that was true. So we lay there. And after a while, I petted his hair. His legs were so smooth between mine. He was still leaking a little, and I could feel the wetness sliding down my hip. I thought maybe I could hear his heartbeat racing, echoing in my chest, but then I realized, no, his breathing was slow and even, so it had to be my heart.

“I love you,” I whispered.

He mumbled something, but I wasn’t sure what it was or if he’d heard me, because he was already asleep.

22

When I woke the next morning, the light in the room told me I’d overslept. It must have been late morning. And I had to get up. I had to—

What?

Work, I guess.

But maybe I didn’t have to. Because the tour was over. And yeah, there were still things to finish on the house, but there wasn’t a deadline now. And God knew I hadn’t had a day off in forever. And it was Noah’s birthday.