Page 21 of Key Change

Anthony turned, his gaze skimming over him. “Before, I mostly topped. But with the right person…” He shrugged. “And now? I don’t know. You?”

“I used to bottom. Mostly.” He smiled, mimicking Anthony’s response. But he wasn’t sure how to explain what it was like to be only valued for his performance—either in bed or on the piano. “I still like to, and top, but I started to want more than that, and for a while, I didn’t bother dating. I travel too much to commit to a relationship.”

“That’s bullshit.”

Cillian’s eyebrows lifted. “What?”

“Traveling too much. That’s an excuse to cheat if ever I heard one.”

“Well, that’s assuming it’s not an open relationship to start with. When I first moved here, I loved it. I never turned down a party and never went home alone.”

Anthony smiled. “Different parties, same thing.”

“Now I feel old and jaded.” He was thirty. No longer young, but not old enough to be a silver fox. And he couldn’t complain that his friends were getting married when Anthony had missed out on living for ten years.

“At least you didn’t waste a decade.”

Cillian winced. “I wasn’t trying to be insensitive.”

“I know, and I’m not bitter about the lost time. I had to let that go… which took a while.” He paused. “You figured your shit out without jail time.” He cupped Cillian’s jaw and kissed him.

He appreciated the compliment, but he was one hundred percent sure he was only pretending to have his shit figured out. “It’s an illusion.”

Everyone saw the performance, not him. Not the reality.

“Then it’s a lovely illusion.” Another kiss.

Was he angling to stay the night? Cillian didn’t see a reason to kick him out while they were having fun, but at the back of his mind was the real reason he’d wanted to speak to Anthony. How did he bring up the Hayden problem, without seeming as though that was all he wanted, because it wasn’t. Not now.

The more time he spent with Anthony, the more he liked him. He probably wouldn’t have liked him ten years ago, but neither of them were the same people they’d been back then.

Cillian looped his arms around Anthony's neck and let the kiss deepen. Anthony’s hand slid over his hip to cup his ass cheek and pull him close. His kisses trailed along Cillian’s neck as he rocked against him, his dick already hardening as though he couldn’t get enough of him. This wasn’t a hook up where they barely knew each other… Anthony liked him.

“Maybe we can skip the nightcap?” Cillian whispered, his fingers brushing the nape of Anthony’s neck, tracing along the edge of the collar to undo the top button of his shirt. “Unless that’s too much?”

“I was going to ask the same thing.” He undid two buttons on Cillian’s shirt before Cillian pulled it over his head and dropped it on the floor. He wanted to be naked this time.

Anthony took the hint and by the time they made it to the bedroom, they were naked. He shut the door to keep Snap out—there had been at least one occasion where he’d forgotten, and Snap had jumped onto a bedside table to judge.

He flicked back the cover and pulled Anthony into bed with him, so they lay face to face. Their lips met as they pressed together, hands smoothing over skin. Anthony’s cock brushed against his, almost as if reaching for attention. For the moment, he ignored the hard length.

Anthony seemed determined to explore every inch of Cillian’s body. “God, I’d forgotten what…” He didn’t finish the sentence, wanting to kiss Cillian instead.

It was the kind of desperate attention Cillian hadn’t experienced in a while. He arched his neck, allowing Anthony to kiss and lick lower, to trace over his collarbone with his tongue, then up his throat. He thumbed Anthony’s nipple and rolled the hard nub between his fingers, enjoying the way the other man groaned.

“I’d really like to last a little longer this time,” Anthony murmured.

Cillian continued to tease his nipple. “So you like this?”

“I do. You… don’t?”

“It’s fine, though not going wild about it.” There’d been a time when he’d thought he needed to be enthusiastic about everything. It had taken a while to figure out what he liked.

“What makes you go wild?” Anthony hooked his leg over Cillian’s hip and rubbed his stubble against Cillian’s cheek, nipping at his earlobe. “Tell me… please?”

He didn’t usually tell people because he wanted his lovers to find out for themselves, which usually meant they didn’t, and then it was easy to say they didn’t care.

“You don’t have to… Is it your toes?” Anthony grimaced.

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