Page 88 of Getting It Twisted

Even though he tells me it’s all good—that he likes everything I do to him, and that I’m not causing him harm—I sometimes struggle to believe it. He’s lied to me before. It’s so ingrained in him to neglect his own well-being that it’ll take time, and a lot of coaxing on my part—and on the part of his new therapist—to mend what’s been broken in him.

Some nights, he still wakes up in a cold sweat. I hold him tight while he tells me the fragments of his nightmare until his heartbeat slows back down and we can both drift back to sleep.

No, we’ve hardly got it all figured out. But that desperate pinch in my chest isn’t there anymore. Now that all secrets are out between us—now that I know what he’s dealing with—I know I can help him through it. When my confidence wanes, he pulls me back up. When his bad feelings and memories flood him, I’m there to pull him back to shore.

I cannot take away the past—neither his nor ours—but I can promise to be there for him. For us. And part of being there for him means satisfying his never-ending appetite for sex.

That’s why I end up with his lips wrapped around my cock. When I rock my hips forward, he takes me all the way down his throat with ease, looking up at me with flushed cheeks and half-lidded eyes.

“We could stay like this forever, huh?” I slide my fingers into the smooth locks of his hair. “You’ll never get enough of this.” Neither will I. Won’t ever get enough of how he shudders with relief as my cock slides into his mouth. He needs this from me, so badly. And I’m more than happy to give it to him.

He replaces his mouth with his hand and jerks me with slow, sloppy movements, licking his spit-slick lips. “Put it in. Just the tip. I know you wanna come in me.”

“Fine. Get on the bed. On your stomach.”

He grins and does as I tell him, tugging his boxers down and leaving them by his knees. I lube myself up in record time and push into the tight, willing heat of his body.

It never fails to amaze me how pliant he can be with my cock buried in his ass and my hand over his mouth. For all his confidence and stubbornness, in bed, he’s reduced to a begging, writhing mess.

He likes it when I fuck him hard and ruthless like this, sure, but what really gets to him is when we’re face-to-face. When I’m kissing him, rolling into him languidly with no hurry in the world, whispering how good he is. Yeah, that drives him properly insane. He acts like it’s a punishment—as if he can’t stand it—but when he comes, he throws his head back and gasps as if he’s been drowning, pleasure evident in the furrow of his brow and his sweet, parted mouth.

He can claim all he wants that he doesn’t like when I’m tender with him. I know the truth.

But today, I’m far from tender; I’m straight to the point, chasing my orgasm until I feel it cresting with every thrust of my hips. He gasps and writhes as I bury myself to the hilt. I’m almost there, right on the edge . . . when George’s voice calls on the other side of the door.

“Hey! I thought I told you two to get ready.”

I snap my hips once, twice, keeping my grunts as quiet as I can while I ride through my orgasm. I gather my breath enough to yell back, “Uh, yeah! We’re almost done.”

Nathan glares at me over his shoulder. “I was just about to come. He ruined it.”

“Told you we wouldn’t have enough time. Come on. We don’t wanna give George an aneurysm.”

Nathan wipes his sweaty bangs out of his face and mutters, “Don’t we?”

Apart from the smug smile he sends George as he exits our room, Nathan behaves surprisingly well. The move takes most of the afternoon regardless, and when we’re done, the sun is already setting.

A layer of snow covers the ground of the small apartment parking lot where we say our goodbyes.

“Tell me if you need anything,” April says and hugs Nathan for a long, long time. “Anything at all.”

“Okay,” Nathan whispers, smiling into the embrace.

My heart swells with a strange sort of pride at his newfound ability to accept help without any of his usual sarcastic remarks.

George clears his throat. “It’s not like you guys are moving more than ten minutes away.”

I take his outstretched hand and pull him into a hug. “Thank you.”Thank you for letting him stay. Thank you for accepting him.

George gives a little chuckle. “I never thought I’d say this, but he’s not that bad. You really mellow him out.”

“Don’t say that to his face. He’ll take it as a challenge.”

Nathan turns to us, viper quick. “Don’t say what to my face?”

“Nothing.”

April gives me a long, tight hug, and soon after that, Nathan and I are left alone to our new home.

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