Page 95 of The Idiot

This ‘surprise’ explains why he guided my hand to the place in between his cheeks last week, though. The memory of his groans when he pushed back onto my finger has me going hard, despite the chill in the hut. I haven’t even entertained the idea of going further, especially not after that argument we had the day I ‘love bombed’ him and he offered himself up as sex tribute. I didn’t want him to think I need that from him to be happy.

I think both of us are determined to make sure what we have isn’t all about the physical. He even insisted on implementing No-Touching Tuesday. Granted, I often have to remind both him and myself when it’s No-Touching Tuesday,but it certainly reinforces our emotional bond. Needless to say, however, Wednesday mornings are off the damn charts.

I can see the hopefulness in his eyes as he waits for my reaction. He’s clearly been thinking about this for a while. I won’t make the mistake of dismissing him this time.

“Jesse, I’m flattered, but I don’t have any lube. I don’t want your first time to be difficult.”

“Don’t worry,” he assures me, kissing my neck. “I took care of it. I pre-gamed.”

‘Pre-gamed?’ What in Jesse-language does that mean?

Skirting my hand down the curve of his ass, I graze the edge of his seam. It’s slick, but it doesn’t feel like lube.

“Why are you… greasy?”

“I ran out of lube.”

“What did you use?”

Groaning, he straightens up. “Don’t worry about it. Geez! You’re killing the romance here.”

I want to laugh. We’re in an ice hut, and he’s throwing out words likepre-gaming. I’m curious about his idea of romance, but he looks too serious right now to tease.

I drag him to my mouth and kiss him like it’s a thousand thank yous for the gift he’s offering me. This time, it’s being offered for the right reasons, for beautiful reasons. How on earth did I get so lucky to call him mine? I didn’t know it was possible to fall more in love with him than I already was. He’s so damn brave. I’m in awe of how he’s dove into loving me without looking back. He makes it seem effortless and, frankly I don’t think there will ever be a bigger compliment given to me in all my life.

Panting, he rolls his hips into mine. “Do you think we’ll ever get tired of kissing each other?” he asks, teasing the head of my cock with his thumb.

“No. Never.”

Rising, he reaches behind himself, slipping my cock underneath him. When he settles back down so I’m nestled in his cleft, I get the full effect of his mystery substance.

Definitely greasy.

I can’t help it. I’m too curious, and his prep timeline isn’t adding up. That cookie plate looks a lot like my mom’s.

“Did you stop at my house on your way out here?”

“Yeah. Your mom said she had cookies for us. She’s way nicer to me now that we’re dating. I mean, she’s always been nice to me, but now I get extra special treatment,” he chatters, shoving up my undershirt and kissing my chest as the movement of his hips lubricates my shaft. “I, uh, might have eaten a few on the way to the hut.”

The puff of laughter I let out isn’t over Jesse’s lack of cookie craving control. He was in my house, pre-gaming it. My heart overflows, knowing he was so determined to give himself to me that he had no regard for his surroundings.

“Did she see you get my harness?”

“No. She left to go visit the McCutchens.”

At least, there’s that. I’ll assume he kept his coat on. Watching episodes of Breathless with Mom is one thing. Having her see Jesse in a jock and a harness is entirely another.

Tracing my hand up his spine, I revel in the feel of each pass my tip makes over his pucker. I can’t believe he’s doing this for me, that he wants it, that he’s practically begging for it. I’ll never get over the fact that he wants me back. He is my goddamn soul, I swear. I’m convinced I was put on this earthjust to meet him, to love him. It might be frigid out, but it’s all heat between us now.

I can’t believe we’re here;here, as in this momentous occasion. It’s been six months since I last topped, but that guy wasn’t Jesse. He was just another man who was scratching an itch like I was. I’m nervous. He’s got his hopes so high, I’ll hate to see if he’s disappointed with the experience.

Straightening abruptly, his hands still on my sides. “Your mom’s done baking her Christmas cookies for the year, right?”

The apprehension in that odd question coupled by the feel of the greasy crease my cock is currently nuzzled into has me pinching my eyes closed and biting my cheek. You know it’s true love when you can decipher someone’s fuckery. He must have pre-gamed in my room after she left the house. I can only pray that he put herCriscoback in the kitchen unscathed.

“Let’s hope so,” I concur.

I lean in for more kisses now that his moral dilemma seems forgotten, but he stops me. “Murph?”

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