Page 51 of When I'm Gone

I’m in deep with my Chaos. He’s swept me up into his orbit, and I’m damn happy to be here. But realistically, I’m not a relationship person. At least I haven’t been. I don’t count my one and only boyfriend in high school because wenever saw each other in public or even told people. We were basically just fooling around exclusively. And I’m not going to do that to Easton; make him feel like he’s not good enough to be properly dated. I just don’t know what I’m doing.

Hell, maybe all this is for nothing and he’ll tell me he’s just trying to get over his ex and I’m just a pit stop on the way.

Me and my stupid hope know which one we’re rooting for, though.

I slip in quietly, not wanting to disturb him with whatever he’s decided to do with his free time, but what I find is far better than my imagination came up with.

He’s got about a metric ton of various ingredients laid out on the countertops, glaring at them like their mere presence is insulting him, and seems to be in the middle of an argument with himself. I watch, transfixed, as he picks up a bag of flour and sets it down three separate times. He only spots me when he attempts to turn his back on his project. His beautiful face lights up and something in my chest cracks wide open.

Happy is my favorite look on him. “Hey, sweetheart. Whatcha got going on here?” I ask, surveying the mess he made of the kitchen, not bothering to hide how pleased I am that he’s not afraid to take up space.

He blushes a pretty pale pink as he starts looking sheepish. “Uhh, in my defense I was either going to scrap the whole idea or be long done by the time I thought you’d come home. Either way, the mess would have been cleaned up.”

Jesus, I’m not sure my heart can take all the enormity of warmth surging up when I’m around him. “Were you making cinnamon rolls?”

There’s no way I can keep the grin tugging at my mouth back when he scowls at me. “Stop looking at me like that,” he scolds.

Not a chance. “I’m not looking at you like anything.”

He points a wooden spoon at me threateningly. “Liar. This doesn’t mean anything and I don’t want to hear about it.”

I mime zipping my lips. “Not a word. I swear. Want an extra set of hands?”

He looks equal parts relieved and apprehensive. “Really? That easy with you, huh?” He keeps his tone light, almost teasing, but I’m starting to understand why he’s always waiting to see if I’ll pick a fight.

I close the remaining distance between us in three long strides and brace my arms on either side of his, my front to his back, and murmur, “Oh, sweet Chaos, I’m very easy when it comes to you.”

A full body shiver slides down from his head to his toes as he leans back against me, giving me his weight. He’s so fucking responsive, so I might as well keep going. “You like that, don’t you? Being so deep under my skin that I’m helpless but to give you what you need.”

His head lolls back on my shoulder, eyes unfocused and hazy. “If you don’t fucking kiss me, I swear—” I silence the threat with my lips on his, gentle in a way that sets my skin alight. Kissing has never felt like this. It was always a means to an end, not bad necessarily, but more of a quick pit stop. With Easton, it can easily be the main event. I could spend hours exploring every inch of his mouth, finding all the ways that get him trembling in my arms.

Easton is far less patient today, setting a much more hungry pace. My cock throbs behind my jeans. It’s already an effort to not lay him out on this damn countertop and have my way with him until he’s reduced to nothing but shakes and sobs.

I nip at his bottom lip, making him moan, the sound going straight to my balls. Then I catch sight of the butter onthe counter and I have no choice but to slow things down before pulling away. Unfortunately for his ego, I can’t ignore what he was in the process of here. He fucking whines when I break the kiss and it almost breaks my resolve.

“Behave, little one, and there will be plenty more of this later.”

He takes a deep breath and blows it back out, sounding more like a growl. Like a pissed off kitten. He’s fucking adorable. “Later is the worst. I hate later.”

I press a chaste kiss to his pouty lips. “I know, but if you’re a good boy, I promise I’ll make it up to you tonight.” Easton’s eyes darken. At the praise or the reward, I’m not sure, but I’m betting both.

“Fine,” he relents.

As much as we should prioritize getting these birthday pastries done as soon as we can, I can’t seem to let him go. He’s perfect in my arms, an intoxicating mixture of pliant and strong. It’s too much fun working as one person, having his sweet little giggles in my ear as we try not to knock into each other or coordinate tasks with one hand each. Having a free hand available to run over his lithe body is just a bonus.

By the time we’re done, my Chaos is joyously warm, filled to the brim and overflowing with light. I’m an instant addict. I’ll do anything to keep him like that. I’m not quite delusional enough to think I’m the one affecting him like that, it’s probably just the lighthearted activity and plenty of human contact, but I’m done for all the same.

Whether he’s cloaked in sunshine or dreary rain clouds, there’s no one else like him. But like this, laughter flowing freely from his lips and entirely unafraid, he’s earth-shatteringly beautiful.

He nudges my arm, prompting me to wrap him up close. He sighs contently, looking at our creation. “We did good.”

One kiss to his neck, then another. I can’t seem to stop myself. “It was all you, sweetheart. He’s going to love it.”

Easton hums in agreement. “You were thinking pretty hard over there. Anything interesting?”

Lying to him is out of the question, but if I act like it’s a joke, he won’t be scared off. “Just waxing poetic about how beautiful you are.”

He flushes crimson, so hot I can feel the heat reach his ear where it’s resting on my chest. “Shut up,” he groans. There’s no hiding that smile fighting to come out though, those dimples are a dead giveaway.

---