Page 77 of Ice Dance

He blinked, lips full and eyes bright. “I know. It’s okay.”

It really was okay with him. It was okay to desire him—a man. Nobody had ever told me it was okay before. They’d told me no, told me to hide the urges, taught me shame, taught me I was wrong, built wrong, that a part of me was broken. I’d been trying to outrun that part ever since.

“I think I may be gay,” I admitted.

He made a valiant effort not to laugh and almost succeeded. “Hey, you know, I think you might be onto something.”

“What I mean to say is that I was always gay, not just now, in this moment. With you.”

“Ren.” His warm hand came up and rested on my face. He was trying not to laugh again. My insides writhed, nerves tying them in knots. But I could see the humor too.

I smiled loosely. “Is my coming out to you amusing?”

“Oh, that’s what this is? I thought, I mean . . . I thought you kinda came out when you came down my throat. But sure, the words help clear that up.”

I tensed. I’d done that. Him on his knees, my dick between his lips. I’d come inside him. I wanted that again, and the memory of it, the thought, hardened my already eager dick.

His smile softened, and he pushed a quick kiss on my lips, then whispered, “All of it’s okay with me, yeah? Relax. Nothing you can do is wrong.”

Navarro made all of this so easy, so good. He made me feel as though I didn’t need to hide half of myself or shut the emotion away. “Thank you.”

Worry collected in the tiny lines at the corners of his eyes. “You deserve to be who you are, Ren.”

That was enough. I couldn’t take more kindness like this, as though he held my heart in his hands.

I gathered him into a kiss that spoke through my whole body for me, putting all of me into it, into him. He came up off the table, threw his arms around me. Our mouths teased, came together, broke apart between gasps. I didn’t know what to do, where to go with this, with us, but I knew what felt exquisite and knew how to chase that feeling.

His T-shirt vanished, and I was kissing over those stars that marked his body.

He shoved my chest, then stepped in, crotch to crotch, slow grinding me backward. I didn’t have time to respond. He pushed again. I fell loosely onto the bed. Navarro straddled my legs, crawled up the length of me, and pinned me down with a kiss. I thrust my fingers into his hair, hips rising off the mattress, needing him closer. He dropped a hand and cupped my erection through my pants. My hips jerked of their own accord. He smiled against my mouth. Need pulled through me, relentless and unbound after a lifetime of constraints.

“You’re so fucking hungry,” he mumbled, dragging kisses down my chest.

He swore so casually. It had shocked me at first. Like most of him had shocked me. I liked it now, liked that it made my heart skip.

He was heading downward, and I wasn’t ready for that. If he got his mouth on me, I’d come too soon.

I got a leg hooked around his, and flipped him onto his back, pinning him down, under me. His eyes blew wide, his breathing hitched. He moaned, writhing under my weight, knees arched either side of my hips. I ground into him, needing it deeper, then came up for a savage kiss. His mouth, his neck. I sucked and nipped at his throat and the bruises over his shoulder, the stars down his chest. The other tattoos, stories on his skin that I didn’t know the language of. So many. So beautiful. I kissed each one.

His hands thrust into my hair, urging me lower. I could do this. Wanted to.

I kissed lower, over warm, firm abs, and Navarro’s fingers flexed in my hair. The restless urgency had faded, as though he realized where this was going and had relaxed into it.

I kissed over one of the star tattoos and felt his muscles tense beneath my lips.

“Ren?” he asked.

I gazed up the length of him. “Yes?”

“You don’t have to, you know.”

It was kind, that he was suggesting this was some kind of tit for tat after he’d gotten me off, but unnecessary. “I’m doing this.”

His pupils swelled, eyes going dark. “I love it when you don’t give me a choice.”

I sat back on my heels and reached for the fastening of his trousers. There was no frantic tugging this time, no rushing because if I stopped to think, I might lose my nerve. I knew exactly what I wanted.

His hips lifted, and I dragged the fabric lower, freeing his cock.