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“You’re a good man, and it is a cliché, but they are, in fact, hard to find.”

“You’re good too,” I made known.

“No, I’m really not.”

“Yes, you are,” I apprised him. “And I’m just lucky I caught you between men.”

“There hasn’t been anyone serious in a while. I stopped moving people in.”

“Why?”

“I guess I’m like my father. I get bored too fast.”

I squinted. “I don’t get that from you. I get the I want to come home and eat with my boyfriend vibe off you.”

“That’s because all I want to do is spend any time I can with you.”

“You just wanna get laid,” I teased.

“That too, though usually, it’s quite a bit tamer than this.”

“What do you mean?”

He tipped his head and stared at me. “I’m normally nicer.”

“In what way?”

“In bed.”

“Why the hell would you wanna be nicer in bed?”

“To make sure I never forced anybody to do something they didn’t want to do.”

“You’re talking about two different things. You already have all the trust issues squared away before you take off your clothes.”

“Well, as a rule, I don’t do anything without asking, and I check in bed, too, not just out of it. Not just before.”

“I don’t recall being asked what I wanted.”

“No, you weren’t, because you’re the first man I’ve ever been in bed with who could make me stop if he wanted to.”

“So, what, then? My strength is bringing out your bad side?”

“No.” He lowered his voice as he moved under me and slid a hand around the back of my neck. “Lie down.”

I sank over him, my head in the hollow of his throat as I wrapped my arms around him.

He rubbed his chin in my hair and stroked his hand over my bicep. “You’re so beautiful—you know that?”

Only to him.

“I dream about holding you down and making you do whatever I want.”

“Sounds kinky.”

“It can be, yes,” he admitted. “And ordinarily, I don’t like to be the only one doing it.”

“Doing what? The fucking?”