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I squeezed my eyes shut and pumped my dick for all I was worth. And just like that, I was there, crying out things even I didn’t understand as I came all over my hand and the sheet.

Behind me, Nolan swore, and then he pulled me back onto him, my ass flush against his hips, and he held me there as he came with a shuddering moan.

I released my breath and let my forehead touch the mattress. Nolan loosened his grasp on my hips. For a moment, we just stayed like that, trembling all over as we still vibrated from our orgasms.

Finally, he pulled out, and we both collapsed onto the hotel bed, sweating, shaking and panting. Nolan was on his back. I was on my stomach, not even caring that I was lying in the wet spot. I felt too damn good to be bothered.

He turned onto his side and ran his hand up my back. “You going to be able to sit comfortably tonight?”

“Pfft. Of course I am.” I raised my head and smirked. “You didn’t fuck methathard.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“Don’t know, Marine. You up for it?”

He laughed and gave my ass a light slap. We both knew he was more than capable of drilling me so hard I could barely move. I loved it when he did that, but he made a good point about sitting comfortably. Spending a few hours in a chair after he’d fucked me into oblivion—nah, I’d pass.

“Be right back.” He kissed my shoulder, then got up and went into the tiny bathroom, probably to get a towel and washcloth for us to clean up.

Alone for a moment, I closed my eyes and just basked in the bliss. It had taken a few months to work up to him topping me, but one night, we got there. Nolan had been fingering me while I’d lazily played with myself, and then he’d whispered,“Can I fuck you?”

“Yes, please,”I’d murmured in return, and moments later, he’d been balls deep in me. It had been slow and languid, and Nolan teared up after he came, and it probably ranked as one of the most amazing things I’d ever experienced. Not just having sex with the man I loved, but being with him—being as close to him as I could possibly be—while he took a huge step toward overcoming his trauma.

Since then, it had become easier and more about us fooling around than him dealing with his past. He loved being on top, and we’d experimented with different positions, differentfurniture—hell, he’d fucked me on a beach one night last fall. Sometimes, he still struggled to get into a headspace where he wanted to top, and that was fine. Sometimes he didn’t want sex at all. Also fine.

But every night, unless one of us had overnight duty, we were in the same bed, fighting the cats for space.

Something wet landed on my ass with a slap, and I yelped. “What the fuck?” When I reached back, I found a damp washcloth, and my boyfriend, snickering by the foot of the bed.

“Asshole,” I muttered, but I couldn’t help chuckling, and we cleaned ourselves up.

Nolan glanced toward the bathroom. “I’d suggest showering together, but you know what’ll happen if we do.”

I bit my lip. “I do. And it’s tempting.”

“Mmhmm, it is.” He kissed me lightly. “But we have to get going. And we both have to be able to sit comfortably for a couple of hours.”

I groaned theatrically. “Ugh.Fine.”

He chuckled and kissed me once more.

Nolan showered first, and then it was my turn. While I let the hot spray run over my neck and shoulders, the pressure lighting up the pleasant aches from a marathon roll in the hay with Nolan, I grinned to myself. The sex was amazing. The man I loved was even better. And life with him, well, it was fucking awesome.

That wasn’t to say life had been easy, but that had less to do with us and more to do with everyone and everything around us. The last year had been a roller coaster, mostly with his family. His parents and his younger brother were supportive, but the extended family was weirdly mixed. Some were furious with Nolan for bringing up his assaults now instead of when they happened, and they thought Matt and Sophia should be angry that their wedding had been interrupted over it.

Others predictably thought Nolan was lying. He’d had an affair with Leann and was now trying to put all the blame on her in the worst way possible. He was jealous of his younger brother being in the spotlight, or of his older brother for marrying Leann when Nolan wanted him for himself. And of course all the usual fallacies about how if he’d been able to have sex with her, then it obviously wasn’t rape. Some had even pressured Nolan to apologize to Andrew, which made no fucking sense to me.

Nolan’s “blocked” list on social media grewsignificantlyin the wake of last year’s debacle.

Fortunately, he’d started seeing a therapist shortly after our trip to Seattle last year. She’d helped him make huge strides in dealing with the sexual trauma, the conflict within his family, and even the moderate PTSD he had from his combat tours. He still had a long, long road ahead, but he’d come a hell of a lot further than he’d thought he ever would.

He was edgy about the Marine Corps knowing he had a therapist, though, so he’d found a civilian who would do televisits, and he paid in cash so his insurance didn’t notify his chain of command (something we’dbothseen happen). Officially, the military wasn’t supposed to prevent us from seeking mental healthcare anymore, or penalize us on evals, but we both knew it happened. Ironically, for all my own parents had wrung their hands over us suffering unofficial consequences of being gay, it was things like seeking mental healthcare that could hurt us more than anything.

So he kept it on the DL, and neither of us told anyone. Not even our families.

And speaking of family, the road ahead with mine had been bumpy to say the least. I remained no-contact with my parents, but my brother had wanted to keep communication channels open. Kevin still hadn’t wanted to choose sides, but he’d stopped pressuring me to make up with my parents. In fact, for a fewmonths after I’d left California for the last time, he’d tried to persuadethemto see wherethey’dgone wrong.

Eventually, I’d told him let it go. I didn’t want to drag him into the middle—I never had—and I wanted our relationship to be about us being brothers, not about him playing go-between with our parents. I had no idea if he still talked to them about me, but we didn’t talk about them. He’d keep me in the loop if there was a serious health issue, though, because he didn’t want me to be blindsided if something happened to one of them. Otherwise, it was just him and me, and we were probably communicating more now than we had in years.

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