Page 80 of 10 Ways to Accidentally Fall in Love

But he didn’t act any differently last night after our shower. After the shared orgasms that left me reeling. He was all smiles while we made dinner, ate on the couch, and played video games. And he came upstairs with me afterwards, far earlier than his usual bedtime, claiming the snuggles would be well worth it.

He’s initiated every step of this, hasn’t he? The first kiss. Admitting he felt something…morefor me, even if he didn’t have a full grasp of what that meant. Asking to watch me touch myself and for him to do the same.

At this point, I don’t think the physical is going to scare him. Which means I need to start showing Brad what it is I want us to be. More than sex. More than…bros with benefits.

I need to show him what it would be like to be mine.

When Brad shifts again, making a more alert sound, I rub up and down his arm. He pulls in a breath, face nuzzling against me as he seems to come to consciousness.

“Comfy,” he mumbles, his voice sleep hoarse.

I huff a small laugh. “The bed or your pillow?”

“Both,” he says, giving the pec he’s not lying on a squeeze. My cock, already half-hard, stiffens when Brad starts to rub himself against me, an unconscious movement that has his erection dragging against my leg through the thin fabric of the sleep pants he borrowed. He stills as soon as he realizes what he’s doing. But then he turns his head to look down my body and says, “Oh, good. You’re up. Hi, Greg.”

My laugh this time is mostly breath as Brad skates his fingers down my bare stomach. My cock bucks, and he makes a soft, excited sound, as if the simple fact that he turns me on is astonishing to him.

“Can I?” he asks.

“Of course,” I say roughly.

He doesn’t slip his hand under the band of my boxer briefs. Instead, his fingers trail over the fabric, he himself scooting ever so slightly to see better. He’s still lying on my chest, still looking down, and it kills me not to see his face. But knowing he’s watching his hand as it smooths over the head of my cock is arousing in its own right. He glides his palm downward, grip loose, tracing the shape of me.

“God,” he says, squeezing a little before making a return trip upwards. “Something about…about holding your dick is like…” He lets out a breath. “Everyone has tells, you know? Signs of arousal. Butthis. There’s no mistaking this. And I’ve never been on this side of the equation before. With someone’s dick in my hand. I didn’t realize it’d make me feel so…”

The persistent up-and-down exploration of my cock makes it hard to think, but I manage to ask, “Makes you feel what?”

His lips ghost over my pec, a featherlight touch, his fingers tightening in a way that has my hips hitching and a groan reverberating out from my chest. He turns his face toward me,tongue swiping over my skin before bright green eyes flash upwards, meeting mine, startling in their intensity. “Powerful,” he answers.

My breath is shaky, my hand flexing on Brad’s arm as he shifts again, pushing himself all the way up. His hand never leaves my cock, stroking me through my briefs as he hovers above me, his hair a mess he does nothing to try and tame. He holds my gaze and lowers his lips to my chest, pausing. Waiting.

For direction, maybe? Waiting for me to beg?

“Suck me,” I request. Or maybe it’s a demand.

He grins—a playful thing that feels like a punch to my gut—before lowering the final half inch required to lick my nipple. His tongue rasps over me, soft and wet, just once. And then he takes me into his mouth.

My head falls back against my pillow. Not just because his lips are on me. His tongue, too. But because of the way he’s sucking me like he goddamn loves it. He lets go of my cock, taking my pec in hand,himgroaning as his tongue rubs and his thumb rolls over my nipples in tandem. He pops free and shifts to the other side, taking that nipple into his mouth, his cock pressing against my hip as he sucks and ruts against me.

“Fuck,” he whispers, more to himself than anything. “Fuck, these are beautiful.”

My chuckle is hoarse. “I take it you’re a boob man?”

“They’re not boobs. I know that,” he answers, his short stubble bristling my skin as he lays kisses across my pecs. “But still, Joey. They’re fucking…” His words dissolve into a reedy sort of moan as he gets distracted, his hand like a hot brand traveling down my stomach. He leans back enough to watch his fingers trace over my skin, seemingly transfixed by every groove and bump he encounters. He runs a path over my Adonis belt, down and then up the V-shaped muscles. “Fuck. These, too. I’m happyto report your cum gutters are in perfect working order. Ten out of ten, would jizz on them again.”

“Glad you approve,” I manage, my stomach muscles jumping when Brad’s hand finds its way back to my cock. He squeezes me before giving me a couple near-desperate jerks through the fabric of my briefs.

“Why was that so hot?” he asks, me or himself, I’m not sure. “Seeing my cum on your skin. It was like…”

He trails off, and I have to move. I can’t lie still anymore. I grab the back of Brad’s thigh and tug his leg over me so that he’s straddling my lap. He lets out a surprised laugh, but it quickly shifts to a groan as I pull him down and grind up against him.

“Fuck,” he mutters, eyes slipping shut.

“Can I try something?”

“Yeah, yep,” he husks.

Smoothing my hand under his waistband, I ease his sleep pants down over his ass and free his cock. Then I hastily push down my own underwear until they’re around my hips. Brad watches with wide eyes as I spit in my palm.

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