Page 69 of Sass

“Stay.” I cradled his face in my hands and then pulled him back against me, the last remnants of steam painting soft circles around us. “I need to hold you. I’ve missed you.”

His arms returned around my waist, and he relaxed. “I... missed you too. I’m so pathetic. I don’t know how to do any of this.”

“I know.” I stroked up and down his back. “And that’s okay.”

When I finally let him go, he stepped slowly away, grumbling at the damp creases on his shirt while flattening them with his hands. But there was a smile on his lips that made me happy.

When he was done, he looked up. “So...” He hesitated, his gaze locking with mine. “I was wondering if maybe... after you’re finished with your mum... you’d like to come over to my place... for dinner... or a drink... or... something?”

I froze, positive I hadn’t heard right, but Chris clearly took it for a lack of enthusiasm because he quickly added, “I mean, I get that you might not feel like it, but if you wanted to get out of here... well... I’m a decent cook as it happens... or we could order in or...” He threw a panicked look to the side. “Shit... it was a bad idea, wasn’t it? I—”

“I’d love to.”

He looked back, a tiny smile playing on his mouth. “Well, okay. That’s... good. But no pressure. Text if you change your mind. And don’t expect too much. I don’t cook for people often. Or at all... really. Oh god.” He buried his face against my chest and I stroked his hair. “But I can. You know. Cook. I promise I won’t poison you or anything.”

“I trust you.” I kissed the top of his head. “And thanks.”

“This is all your fault,” he murmured against the bare skin of my chest, his breath washing over my nipple. “Less than two weeks hanging out with you on a semi-regular basis and look at me. My quills are all flat and I’m a fucking sappy mess.”

I chuckled. “I happen to like this unarmed version of you. Besides, we’ve known each other a lot longer than that.”

He shot me a warning look. “Yeah, well, don’t get any ideas. This is just a temporary glitch. There’s plenty of sting left in me yet.”

I kissed his forehead. “I’d be disappointed if there wasn’t. I happen to like that version too.”

He huffed. “Yeah, well, it’s all right for you, everyone knows you’re a marshmallow. But if any of my friends see me like this, the vultures will circle and the hordes will start to gather, sharpening their spears.”

I gave a soft snort. “Then it’ll be our little secret. I’ve got your back, baby.”

He frowned up at me. “Do you, Leon? Do you really?”

“Yes. I do.”

He stared for a long moment before finally nodding, although I wasn’t convinced that meant what I hoped it did.

“I should go,” he said. “Drew will be starving, and I have to change my shirt.”

“Say hi from me. But about the whole marshmallow thing? You didn’t really mean that, right?”

His face lit up. “Oh, I totally did. The masses have spoken. The votes have been counted.” His arm whipped out and my towel dropped to the floor.

“Shit.” My hand shot to cover my junk and Chris laughed.

“I wouldn’t bother. You need a big-top tent to cover that lot, sunshine.” He turned and gave a jaunty wave over his shoulder. “Yep. Sweet, fluffy, and soft on the inside. Although...” He turned his gaze to my still bobbing cock, which only served to make it bob harder. “Thatis definitely not marshmallow material.”

He winked and was gone.

* * *

My parents were right on time, as usual. My mother strode into the flat, taking her time to look around with unabashed interest, while my father immediately grabbed a diet Coke from the breakfast bar and settled himself on the couch with his gaze laser-focused on me. The quieter of my parents, he was no less shrewd.

“Oh, please, make yourself at home.” I rolled my eyes and headed back into the kitchen.

My father’s mouth quirked up and he lifted his Coke in salute. “Don’t mind if I do.”

“It’s a very nice place.” My mother stood at the window, taking in the view over the rooftops to the Hauraki Gulf, the sea awash with white sails under a bluebird sky. “I can see why you jumped at the chance to stay here versus coming back home.”

“Mum, you know that’s not—”

---