Page 68 of Bi-Partisan

“When you said you were tired, exactly how tired did you mean?” he asks, his voice low.

“Depends on what you have in mind,” I murmur once my brain catches up from the kiss enough for me to process what he’s asking.

His eyes go the slightest bit wicked, then his mouth is back on mine, hot and demanding. He grabs my hips and starts walking me backward toward the bed in the alcove off the living area. Although there’s only maybe fifteen feet between where we started and the bed, he somehow gets us out of most of our clothes on the way. So by the time my knees hit the bed, we’re down to our boxers.

He pushes me back, and I barely have time to situate myself more fully on the mattress before he’s covering my body with his.

“In a hurry?” I tease.

“Yes,” he says, and it’s so without shame that I can’t help getting turned on by it, especially when he punctuates the statement with a biting kiss and a grind of his half hard cock against mine. He swallows my resulting moan, then scrapes his teeth across my jaw and down to the spot on my neck he claims to be his favorite—the one that always sends sparks down my spine.

He’s only had this kind of frantic and demanding energy in bed once in the past few weeks of us sleeping together—something had happened at work that had put him in a particularly good mood. What it was, I have no idea, because he practically pounced on me the moment he stepped through my door, and we immediately fell asleep after. It was probably the best sex I’ve ever had, and although I very much want a repeat, I don’t know that I actually have the energy for it tonight.

“Jamie,” I start, but it comes out more like a gasp.

“Yeah, darlin’?” he whispers in my ear.

“I don’t want to stop, but I also don’t think I’m up for anything besides—“ I break off with a moan as his hips circle against mine again. Fuck, even through our boxers, that feels incredible.

“That’s okay,” he says, trailing his lips back up to mine. “Can we—“ He slides his hands down to my ass and pulls me into him — “like this?”

“Boxers off,” I say by way of answer.

He nods enthusiastically.

“And lube,” I add.

He makes quick work of our remaining clothes, then scrambles in his bedside drawer for a small bottle of lube. It’s fast and messy, neither of us bothering to move our hips with any sort of finesse. Our kiss is sloppy, more shared breath and teeth than lips. We just chase our orgasms, taking whatever we can from each other. It shouldn’t be as hot as it is, but maybe I should stop being surprised with how good things are with Jamie, even when we’re both exhausted after an evening in the car.

He falls over the edge first, a moan that almost sounds like a laugh tumbling from his lips as he spills over our hands and onto my chest. That and a well-timed flick of his wrist are all it takes to drag me over it, too, panting into his mouth as pleasure rolls through me.

Neither of us speaks for a minute, focusing on catching our breath and slowing our heart rates. Then he drops his forehead to my neck and lets out a breathy curse.

“Yeah?” I say, chuckling slightly as I comb my fingers through his hair.

“That was really hot.” His lips graze my shoulder. “Although, now I definitely need a shower.”

“You need a shower?” I say, a little incredulously.

He lifts his head to give me a questioning look, then lowers his gaze to my chest and laughs. “I’ll go get the water started.”

Smile softening, he brushes his lips on my forehead. Then he rolls off me and heads across the living area to the bathroom, leaving me to bask in the warm afterglow for a few more minutes before I need to get up and follow him.

Chapter 22

Jamie

Song: Home – Good Neighbours

Adrian is silent the entire drive to my childhood home for breakfast. He hasn’t said anything, but I know his anxiety is through the roof. I can practically feel it radiating off him in waves. He practically woke up like that, and I hate that there isn’t much I can do for him to make it better. I’ve tried, of course—pulled him into the shower with me to try to get him out of his head, made him a cup of chamomile tea, asked if talking would help. And while he appreciated all of it, it didn’t seem to do that much to ease the hard set of his jaw or the little crease right between his eyebrows.

But honestly, I don’t know that I’m doing much better. I don’t remember being this nervous when I introduced my last significant other to my parents, but I also wasn’t dating a guy. My parents were supportive when I came out to them, of course. I’d been more worried about how they felt about the article than anything else. But knowing your son is bisexual in theory and meeting his same gendered partner are two different things.

I pull into the driveway and park behind the white pick up truck my dad has driven for as long as I can remember. Cutting off the engine, I turn to Adrian and smile gently. “Ready, darlin’?”

He takes a deep breath, staring at the house, and nods once.

“Hey,” I say, putting my hand on top of his clenched fist. I gently pry it open so we can lace our fingers together. “Look at me.”

---