Page 168 of The Hopelessly Bromantic Duet

I grab the lube, pour some on my hand. Then, as I fuck him, I jerk his cock. My slick hand flies along his length as he groans and pants.

My thoughts race, and as I drive into him, I’m struck with the utter wildness of the evening. I don’t know how we’ve gone from flirting, to talking, to getting jealous, to spilling out messy emotions, to the kind of passionate sex I’ve only ever had with him.

But I know this—once we strip away the jealousy, we show each other the truth with our bodies.

Like how much I’ve missed him.

How much Iregret.

How much Iwant.

With his pleasure in my hand, I cover his mouth with my lips one more time, kissing him as he erupts, coming all over my fingers and the bed.

And I am done.

My body lights up, fire everywhere, a brilliant blaze as I shove deep into him, releasing inside his body for the first time.

I hope it’s not the last. Especially when he collapses and, a minute later, mutters, “I’ll say it. You fucked me good.”

Smiling, I slump next to him. I kiss his shoulder and try to plot our next steps. I’ve no idea what we’re supposed to do. So I start with a simple suggestion.

15

I AM A FURNACE, HE IS A CAT

TJ

We shower.

We don’t talk, and that works for me. I don’t want to ruin this bubble of sex and intimacy, especially since Jude and I feel like old times under a hot stream of water. Like the moments we had in London before we hurt each other.

Maybe Jude’s afraid to ruin this moment too. He’s quiet as well, wordlessly cleaning up and sharing his body wash.

I study the bottle as I take it, recording another detail in my Jude file. The bottle is labeledSunshine and Citrus, and the scent fits him. Using it, I wash off the evidence of sex, then spin him around, soap his shoulders, his arms, his chest, staying silent as my hands travel over his body.

He lets me, like a cat permitting several, luxurious strokes of its fur. That’s fitting too. Jude is something of a cat—in charge, demanding, beautiful. “Do you like cats?”

“Yes. Why?”

“You seem like a cat person,” I remark.

A soft laugh comes from him, but then it dies. The water patters against black tiles on the floor.

Does he plan to ask me to stay the night? My heart races too fast with worry. Maybe an hour at his place is all we need for ourboyfriend theater. What if that was just sex and catharsis?

But I should ask. I don’t want to be the guy with walls forever. “Can I stay the night?”

“Yes,” he says simply.

That’s all. Nothing more to his answer or his tone.

His back is to me, and he tips his head under the water, but I can tell his eyes are closed, so I can’t read his reaction any more than his voice.

Jude clears his throat. “On one condition.”

I tense, bracing myself for whatever is coming. Knee-jerk reaction on my part, but so it goes. “Yeah?”

Opening his eyes, he turns around, determination in his expression. “Tell me why you were so adamant we come here.”

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