Page 56 of Second to None

I uncurled the fingers of my other hand from around the toothpaste and nudged it towards him. “Here, got you something. In case you’re still a little weirdo about morning breath.”

He huffed a chuckle. “It’s called being considerate, Levi.”

“I think it’d be very considerate if you kissed me.”

“I can do that.” He snicked the tube open and squeezed some onto his finger, then popped it into his mouth. When he caught me watching, he hollowed his cheeks and sucked, all exaggeration, humour gleaming in his eyes.

“Sexy,” I commented, stretching out next to him. The sheets slid as I moved, his body solid and familiar beside me, most of his face in shadow. He let his finger slip free, the air between us fresh and minty. His thigh bumped mine.

“I believe you mentioned kissing?” he asked.

“I believe I did.” I leaned in, nose brushing his cheek as I let my fingertips drift lower, over the firm plane of his stomach, to the prickly line of hair that dipped below the sheet. He pressed his smile against the corner of my lips, and I turned my head, caught his mouth in a proper kiss. It tasted like waking up late after a show, in a hotel room somewhere in the world. Like ‘good morning,’ like ‘I love you.’ Like coming home—the gentle nip of his teeth on my bottom lip and his quiet hum, barely louder than a sigh.

Easy.

I pulled back slightly, aiming for a smirk, and tugged the sheet down to his knees. He didn’t resist, lifting up to make it easier, watching me with an intensity that felt a little too big for the hush of the morning, the distant creak of a settling beam that framed the moment. Faint light and shadow turned the curves of his body into something real and immediate, untouched by the world’s stage lights.

“Pretty boy,” I whispered, and maybe it was too much, the words unfiltered, but it was true.

He exhaled a warm, husky laugh. “I’m a man now, you know.”

“Really?” I brushed the side of my hand along his cock, already half-hard. “I’m gonna need to see some paperwork.”

“It’s all in the stubble.” His breath hitched. “Also, you’re overdressed. Let me see you.”

My cheeks warmed at that. It made no sense—he’d traced every inch of me with his hands and mouth, and I still knew his body by heart. But it felt too intimate in this morning bubble we’d created. I breathed out, then hooked a thumb under the waistband of my boxer briefs and pushed them down. He lay still, studying me with hooded eyes.

“You with me?” I asked.

He glanced up, smiling. “Nowhere else I’d rather be.”

“Cheesy.” I moulded myself against him, chest to chest, and slipped one leg between his. Our cocks brushed. We both stilled, riding out the sparks of that simple contact. He’d always done that for me—one touch, one look, and I was ready to go. No one else had even come close, and I wondered if it was still the same for him now that he had others to compare me to.

It didn’tmatter.

To silence the chatter in my head, I cradled his dick—no preamble, just a familiar hold, thumb pressing against the knot at the crown’s base. His choked-off sound was a chord, a masterpiece.

“Jesus, Lee,” he mumbled, syllables blurred around the corners, and I thought about making the obvious joke. Then he reached out, fingers skimming down my hip before they curled around me in a mirror of my grip. My mind went bright and champagne-fizzy.

We moved slowly at first, barely rocking our wrists, knuckles bumping. It felt like a conversation, questions and answers, the velvety thrum of his pulse under my palm. I watched the way his lashes shivered with each slow stroke. His lower lip was caught between his teeth, eyes like the night, all his focus on me.

You were my downfall.

The thought burst into rainbow glitter when he twisted his hand, my hips snapping forward. Not quite there yet but toeing the edge, distant awareness of movement somewhere outside this room, nowhere that mattered because this, here, was everything. I kissed the shell of his ear, hand moving faster now, fuelled by stubborn resolve to make him fall first.

“Lee,” he said and stopped, turned his head to press our open mouths together, shared air more than a kiss. Slick slide of our hands. We angled ourselves better, the deliberate twist of his hand matching the slow build of tension in my thighs and stomach. I licked a murmured curse from his lips. Heat coiled in my gut, and he was trembling faintly, free hand clutching my shoulder in a grip that might leave a five-fingered bruise.

“Close?” I asked, and he gave a jerky nod.

“Yeah, just…” A crack in his voice, lashes charcoal smudges against his cheeks. “Fuck, Lee. I?—”

I leaned in and licked the soft wash of vowels from his mouth. He parted his lips with a quiet groan, and my eyes closed, hips giving a tiny jerk into his fist. Beautiful shadows snagged in my mind. I came with my forehead pressed to his, felt the hot pulse of his release over my hand just seconds later.

Breathing together, tension melting away like the ebb of a wave.

Reality filtered in around the cracks. A bird chirped outside the window in gentle mockery of our moment, the kettle whistling in the kitchen. I’d have to sneak back in a minute—shower, find coffee, pretend that nothing had changed between Cass and me. My mum liked to worry, and even though she loved him, she’d been all careful questions and quiet concern when I’d mentioned I’d help plant some rumours. No need to stir up trouble over nothing when this was... just a bit of fun. Yeah.

“Good way to start the day,” I murmured.

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