Page 115 of Rules to Love By

“Oh, I enjoy the sex. It’s the part after—”

“Stop.” Eli dragged Marcus against him.

“I’m just saying…”

Eli nuzzled his face into the curls atop Marcus’s head.

Marcus was just fine with the nuzzling. “Would it make you feel any better to know that just now, when you kissed me, there was no aftereffect? At least, no unpleasant ones.”

“Is there usually?”

Marcus shrugged. “Probably fair to say I’ve never stopped at the kissing stage to analyse it.” He settled into Eli’s arms. “My point was more that it was nice. Full stop.”

“No nerves.”

“Not yet.”

“I’ve been told,” Eli said, “that I have a calming effect.”

“Oh, you’ve been told this, have you?”

“Once or twice.”

Marcus closed his eyes, steering his mind away from who else might have told Eli he was calming. Grounding. “You know I now, officially, know more about you than I ever have about any other guy I’ve slept with.”

Eli literally growled, prompting Marcus to pet his chest. “You say stuff like that, and it makes me homicidal.”

“Aw. That’s so romantic.”

“No, it’s not. It doesn’t make me the good guy to have violent intentions towards your exes.”

“Okay, first—” Marcus peered up, but Eli was intently glaring at the ceiling, as far as he could tell. “—they are not my exes. They’re just guys I had sex with once.”

“How does that make it better?”

“And second…” He pushed up on an elbow to take Eli’s chin in his hand and pull his face around so he could see him. “It doesn’t make you the bad guy to want to protect someone you care about from people who hurt them.”

For a heartbeat, Eli stared at him, and when Marcus kissed him, he didn’t object.

Marcus didn’t lead the kiss for long, but he was okay with that, as he was when Eli cupped his face, warm hands bracketing their kiss and guiding his head back to his pillows. He may have moaned softly when Eli’s weight pressed him into the mattress.

For a blissful moment, the brain spinning stopped. Everything but the points of contact between them went away. He floated, surrounded by the smells of the dust that settled in the cracks of an attic, of skin and whatever Eli used in his hair to tame the tight curls and keep them from the hopeless tangle Marcus lived with on the daily.

This kissing, with tongue and pressure and quiet control, was his gateway drug, and he knew it. Next he’d pull Eli on top of him, spread his legs, peel off one layer of clothes after another until he was bare and begging.

But they had a plan. They’d both agreed on the rules, and it was as much his responsibility to uphold them as it was Eli’s, so he pressed one palm to Eli’s chest and ran the other over his cheek as he disengaged.

Eli protested, though softly.

“Three dates,” Marcus whispered between his parted lips.

Eli touched their foreheads together. “Three dates,” he confirmed, and rolled back onto his side facing Marcus. “Good call.”

“Is it, though?” Marcus squinted at him, and then they both smiled and Eli pecked his cheek.

“Thank you.”

“I guess you’re welcome.” He aimed for grumbly but hit a bratty pout instead, which earned him another, firmer, but very short kiss on the mouth.

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