Page 59 of Bi-Partisan

My face breaks into a smile, and he does it again. Then he brushes his lips against my wrist and my forearm, kissing his way along my arm until I let out a breathy laugh. I feel him grin against my skin, then his lips are back on mine for a moment.

“I’m going to pull out and deal with the condom, okay?” he says.

I nod, and brace myself for the uncomfortable empty feeling that always comes after sex. Then, with another quick kiss, he rolls off of me and disappears into the bathroom. I lay there for a moment, letting myself bask in the afterglow until the sticky feeling on my stomach and chest becomes impossible to ignore. I grab the hand towel, but before I can do a cursory wipe of my chest and between my thighs, Jamie reappears in the doorway with a washcloth in hand.

“No, let me,” he says, hurrying back to the bed and kneeling next to me.

I prop myself on my elbows and reach for the washcloth. “It’s okay, you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” he says, cutting me off with a peck on the lips. “I didn’t really get to last time because I wasn’t sure how welcome it would be. But I like this part—the after care.”

My stomach does a little flutter, and although this is entirely uncharted territory, I find myself nodding.

He grins, then starts gingerly wiping me down with the washcloth, which is perfectly warm, and somehow the little detail makes my stomach flutter even more. I try not to dwell on it though, not wanting the little voice in the back of my head to ruin this moment between us.

Once I’m at least mostly cleaned up—I’ll need a shower, but that can wait until morning—and Jaime’s thrown the towels in the hamper in my closet, we find our way under the covers. I expect him to pull me under his arm, like he did on the couch, but he surprises me by snuggling close and resting his head in the crook of my shoulder.

“So, was that—how was that for you?” he asks after a long, silent beat.

On a reflex I didn’t know I had, I press my lips to his forehead, letting them linger. “It was amazing.”

He lets out a pleased hum. “Okay, good.”

“And for you?” I ask, feeling suddenly uncertain—which is not usually a feeling I have after sex.

“Incredible. Better than I could have imagined—and I’ve been doing a lot of imagining,” he says.

I can’t help laughing. “Really?”

He lifts his head to look at me, a teasing smirk on his face. “Darlin’, I’ve had a crush on you for months. I didn’t think I was being all that subtle.”

He wasn’t, but that still didn’t stop my brain from convincing me I was reading things wrong.

Before I can say anything, he stifles a yawn and settles back against my chest. “Mm, sorry. I think the post sex exhaustion is setting in.”

“That’s alright.” I reach over to shut off my bedside lamp, and right on cue, Joseph jumps onto the bed. “Joseph, not tonight—”

“It’s okay,” Jamie mumbles. “He can stay.”

Permission granted, Joseph immediately settles in the space between my feet, which will make it difficult to move when I eventually need to. But for now, I’m content exactly where I am.

Chapter 19

Jamie

Song: what are we – Virginia to Vegas

My phone alarm wakes me up to the fact that there’s a cat sitting on my chest. And although the pressure does not help the reflux I knew I’d wake up with this morning, I’m grateful for it. Because the cat—Joseph, I realize when I open my eyes—immediately convinces me that last night wasn’t some spectacular dream. I shut off the alarm just as Adrian starts to stir next to me. We must have drifted apart in our sleep because I’m almost certain I fell asleep with him curled around my back—an amazing way to fall asleep, by the way. I fucking love being the little spoon.

I turn my head to watch him wake up, eyes blinking open slowly, his nose wrinkled like he doesn’t want to be awake, yet, which is fair. I also don’t really want to be awake right now—not when I could be in bed with my adorably sleepy boyfriend.

He grumbles a little and makes a shooing motion at the cat still on my chest. “Go away, Joseph. Neither of us are feeding you, right now.”

When Joseph doesn’t move, Adrian huffs and scoots closer to physically push him off me. Cat gone, he throws an arm over my bare stomach and presses a kiss to my shoulder. “Sorry about him,” he mumbles, his voice still thick with sleep.

“It’s okay.” I carefully maneuver my arm so I can wrap it around him and press a kiss to his forehead. “Morning, darlin’.”

He hums softly. “What time is it?”

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