Page 50 of Hard to Pretend

Instead of giving in, he rose up and pulled me from the couch. I moved like a zombie away from the couch, to his bedroom, and settled on his bed.

“I really need to start keeping supplies in other parts of the house,” he muttered.

I watched with hungry eyes as he pulled out the bottle of lube and the condom. My eyes landed on the foil packet of the condom, and I shook my head. “I haven’t been with anyone else since my last test,” I told him.

I wanted to feel him bare inside of me. I’d laid myself bare in front of him, told him my feelings, and now Iwanted that same rawness in everything between us. I was a little disappointed when he shook his head at me. “That’s something to discuss later. When we’re not…” He motioned at our bare bodies and swollen cocks. “When our heads are clear.”

That made sense. As long as I had him, I supposed that I could handle a condom.

Not that I was able to think about it once I heard thesnickof him opening the bottle of lube and the gentle pressure of his finger at my entrance. I couldn’t think of anything as he brought his mouth down and finally gave me what I wanted. He sucked me in deep as he opened me up. I was overwhelmed by the sensation of his mouth around me, his fingers in me, and his other hand pinching and playing with my nipples.

I was nothing more than the sensations he was giving me and the desperation for more. I was a moaning and whining mess by the time he slid the condom onto his shaft and pressed inside of me. I was so well prepped that my body barely offered any resistance against him. He moved in me, whispering how much he loved me as he thrust, and I returned the sentiment as my nails dug into the flesh of his back.

We came together, our names mingling in the air between us. We stayed connected as our pulses slowed and our breathing returned to normal, and in that moment, I knew.

He was the person for me.

I had never loved anyone the way that I loved him, and I didn’t think I ever would. Maybe it was too soon to feel like that, but I did.

I couldn’t imagine the love I had for him ever fading away.

20

“Igotthejob!”Seb’svoice was tinny on my car speakers, but even the shitty audio quality couldn’t stop me from hearing the excitement in his voice.

It had been two weeks since his first interview, since he first said he loved me. He’d had his second interview a week later, and I just knew when I saw his name on the display that he’d gotten the job. There was no other possible outcome after the way he talked about how the interview had gone. There was no other answer that I would have accepted after how excited he was.

I would have moved mountains, made phone calls, did everything I could think of if he hadn’t been hired.

Okay, I wouldn’t have. He would have been pissed if I did, but I’d havewantedto, and that was close enough to the same thing.

“Did you sign the offer letter yet?”

“Just hit send. It’s a great package.” He sounded so happy. Hearing him like that was the best part of my day.

We needed to celebrate. I needed to celebrate with him. I needed to do something to show how proud of him I was for his accomplishments, because I was. Telling him wouldn’t be enough. Actions spoke louder than words, and I always wanted him to know how valued he was. I wanted him to know how much I admired the fact that he’d done all of this on his own. I’d set the wheels in motion by sending an email, but everything else had been on him.

I made a snap decision.

“Be ready at 7:00.”

It was in two hours. I was on the way to hang out my brother, but he would understand. My boyfriend had finally taken those forward steps in his career that he needed so desperately. It was a big moment, and I had to celebrate the big moments. Otherwise, what was the point?

“Huh?”

“Be ready at 7:00. I’m taking you out. We’re going on a date in honor of you getting this job,” I told him. I thought it was pretty obvious, but he was clearly riding high on getting the job offer and needed his hand held a little.

“Where are we going?” he asked with a confused chortle.

“No idea,” I admitted, “but I’ll get it figured out. Probably nothing too fancy.”

Not with only two hours of prep time. I turned down the next street and started back toward my apartment. Seb agreed to be ready at 7:00, and we disconnected. I called my brother and canceled our plans. As I suspected, he wasn’t upset by the sudden change of plans. He did demand that we make up for it the following weekend, and he expected me to bring Seb. I didn’t mind. I wanted my brother to meet my boyfriend.

I spent the next two hours planning and getting ready for our date. I took a quick shower and styled my hair, put on a pair of nicer jeans and a burnt orange polo, and dug out a pair of boots I only ever wore on special occasions. I showed up at Seb’s apartment five minutes before I told him I’d be there, and he was already waiting on the steps. I grinned. I loved how punctual he was.

Our first stop was Firelli’s. While the outside of the building looked rundown, the inside was perfect for a date night. There were white table cloths on all the tables, and the lighting was dim and romantic. The smell of Italian food wafted through the restaurant, making my stomach rumble and my mouth water. I gave our name to the host, and we were seated within minutes.

“Did you make reservations?” he asked as we bypassed the small crowd of people waiting.

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