Page 3 of Love Bitters

Ollie

“Do you think she’s okay?” I ask Evan for what has to be the one hundredth time.

From where he sits with his back propped against our headboard, he pretends to read like he’s been doing for the last several hours. Ever since we got home from the Thai restaurant we were supposed to be meeting Imma at. She was a no show, but we went ahead and ate without her, assuming we’d get a call sometime during the meal about how she got delayed somehow. It wouldn’t be the first time over the last month.

After we’d paid our check and the fourth unanswered text, I’d tried calling once, maybe twice. No answer. It’s now well after two in the morning. I can’t sleep and neither can Evan. We’d tried to make love, but even that failed. The mood had died quickly when my phone beeped with a new text. Unfortunately, it was my boss about a new artist’s reveal this week.

Not waiting for Evan’s reply to my question, I type a message into a text for Im. The app has been open while I chew my fingernails off anyway. Might as well put it to use. Again.

Evan’s sigh fills the space between us. “Give it a rest, babe. She has a life outside of us. She’ll get back to you when she can.”

I feel my bottom lip go into full pout mode before I can stop it. None of us expect her not to have a life that doesn’t involve us. It’s just a hard pill to swallow when I feel like she’s purposely ignoring me tonight.

After ten more minutes of constantly glancing at my phone without a reply, I accept that I won’t be hearing from her tonight. Tossing the useless thing beside my lamp, I try not to take my misdirected frustration out on the little string when I snap the light off. Snuggling up next to Evan’s side, I throw my arm across his waist and bury my face into his chest.

Another sigh slips from his lips, but it’s not out of frustration this time. It sounds content.

“You know I love you, right?” I ask, skimming my lips across his skin.

He sets his book on his own table before settling further down on the bed with me as he replies, “I know you do. As much as I love you, which makes it easy to understand how you feel. We aren’t any less without her.”

“I know we aren’t, but I love her,” I confess quietly.

His fingers find my chin and tilt it upward until his mouth can close over mine. My lips part for him instantly, and I melt at the first brush of his tongue. Ever since the very first time I met him this man has never failed to make me feel like I’m right where I belong.

I’ve been out of the closet for years, much to my parent’s disappointment. Mainly my dad, but Mom couldn’t deny her sadness at having her only child turn out gay. I caught it luckier than most, though, and I know that. It just didn’t help with making friends and definitely not getting a boyfriend. All through school I had a few loyal friends but still felt like a social outcast.

It wasn’t until college that I started getting more confidence in myself and accepting who I am as a person. More than my sexual preference which is how everyone wanted to categorize me.

One fated day, I sat down in Lit 2 and hit it off with the dark-haired man-candy who sat to my right reading a ridiculous tome of a book. From there, the rest is history. As much grief as my parents gave me growing up, they’d fallen for Evan as fast as I had and welcomed him with open arms.

Opening my eyes to let them feast on the view, I feel the anxiety from earlier taking a backburner to the lust starting a slow burn through my veins. There’s no denying my man is a delectable work of art. From the shaggy raven-colored hair that spills over the side of his forehead and almost into his dark gray eyes to the naturally tanned skin any Malibu Barbie would be jealous of, covering hard muscles enough to rival Ken. It’s probably horrible of me, but that’s the way I look at him sometimes. My own personal Ken doll, only mine is better because it’s anatomically correct.

Taking advantage of that, I press my palm against his chest and let it make a path all the way down those glorious ab muscles. His breath hitches slightly when I make it to my goal and wrap my fingers around his length. I can’t stop the grin that makes it difficult to keep kissing him without clashing teeth. Arm tightening around me, he deepens the kiss until all I can feel around me is Evan.

After a few heart thundering seconds, my only desire is to make my lover happy the best way I know how. Only he has the same idea. Leaving a burning path from the scrape of the shadow on his face, he makes his way down my neck and chest, stopping twice to nip and lick at my nipples. The ridge formed from daily workouts down my abs seems to be perfect for his tongue to trek right between. One of my hands braces on his shoulder as the other tucks into that dark hair just as warm breath fans out over my waistline. My cock jerks in response, tapping him underneath the chin.

His eyes flick up to mine right before a wicked grin takes over his face and he closes his mouth around me. All the air in my lungs leaves in one short huff. No matter how many times this man goes down on me, it still feels just as good as the first time.

Maybe better, a little voice inside my head corrects as Evan’s tongue finds the super sensitive spot right underneath the head of my cock that he knows drives me insane.

He adjusts his position as my hips piston upward completely out of my control.

“Oh my god, baby,” I coo, sinking my fingers further into his hair. A gentle tug on the dark locks earns me a deep groan from his throat. With him taking me as far as he can, the sound just about sends me over the edge. I let out a moan of my own, and he takes that as time to pull away.

I want to beg him to come back, think about possibly trying to force him with the hand still locked at the back of his head, but I know it’d be useless. Here in this room, on this bed, Evan is in control. Evidence of my thoughts, he grabs the back of my thigh and uses it to flip me over to my stomach. The bedspread swallows the sound that follows the action.

Placing a kiss against my back, he reaches over to the drawer in his table. As he moves, his cock rubs against my ass cheeks, making me wiggle my hips in anticipation of feeling the hard length of him inside of me.

He drops back to rest his ass on his heels as I hear the lid pop open on the bottle of lube in his hands. I bring my knees underneath me, displaying myself for him. A deep chuckle blows warm air across my cheeks. The wait for him is painful. Especially since I’m not the most patient as it is.

Reaching between my legs, I take my cock in my hand to give it a few sharp tugs.

“Always so impatient, babe,” he tells me, slipping a lubed finger in my hole.

I gasp into the bed, knowing the game is almost over because I have him right where I want him.

Another digit quickly follows the first, telling me he’s not as entirely in control of himself as he likes to be, the king of foreplay isn’t as patient as he normally takes pride in being.

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