Page 89 of Tight End

When he captures my lips again, I drink him in, every emotion in his expression, his touch, his sounds…I need it all.

And he chose me to give it all to...to give himself to.

A cry slips from his lips and he pulls away, his breathing ragged. “Fuck, yes. Right there. Don’t fucking stop.”

A fierce explosion fires deep in my core, electricity flowing out to every cell. My body shudders, the orgasm racing to the head of my cock as Brixton writhes against me. Thick ropes of his cum spew across my chest. Brixton leans into me withanother mind-altering kiss, and with one final thrust, I come again.

We lie there together, our lips entwined for I don’t even know how long. And I’m in no rush to break away from this man.

He leans his head back and I drag my tongue down the side of his neck, nipping at the skin. Then I lean forward and graze his pierced nipple with my tongue, smiling when he jerks at the sensation.

“I love when you do that,” I murmur.

I love everything about you.

I love you…

But I let those words simmer on my tongue. I know what just happened between us but I also know that his head is a million ways fucked up, especially after what happened with his asshole father. I wasn’t about to let him be alone. I wanted to be with him, to support him in any way I could, to be the friend I knew he needed.

I can’t fool myself into thinking that he wants more than sex right now, no matter what he says, no matter what he thinks. The guy is traumatized, and I just made this harder on myself because I’m in way over my head with him.

He climbs off of me, careful not to hit my bad knee. Then he drops his head down and gives it a kiss. With a wink, he slides off the bed. Then he walks into the bathroom. A minute later, he comes back with a couple of washcloths. He’s silent as he cleans me up. The he looks at me with a smile.

“Thanks for being there for me. I really needed a friend after all that.”

His words are like a machete to my chest.

Friend.

He needed a fucking friend.

I should have known. Why the fuck did I think this timewould be different? He was upset and needed someone to take away the pain.

I allowed myself to be that doormat.

Again.

And the heart that, only seconds earlier, was doing the polka in my chest, is now deflated like a goddamn slashed helium balloon.

Chapter 32

Brixton

Idrop kisses onto Sam’s shoulder the next morning, hoping that whatever was eating him last night isn’t gonna wake up with him. We fucked around for the better part of the night but something felt off. It’s like a wall crashed down between us. I can’t figure it out. The first time was so hot and intimate and after that? It was like he just wasn’t into it anymore.

I don’t understand how.

He rocked my fucking world.

Didn’t I do the same to him?

We had dinner, watched Netflix. He didn’t say much, which definitely isn’t like him.

I asked if maybe his leg was bothering him. He said it was a little sore.

So maybe that was the problem?

I hate thinking that I might have hurt him.

---