Page 33 of Crossing Lines

“I want you to rub off on me. On my ass.” Reaching around, he grabbed my hips and tugged. “Hurry.”

I blinked. “Okay.” Maybe he wasn’t ready for sex with me yet, but I did love a man who knew what he wanted. I slicked my cock and nestled it between his cheeks, then wrapped my arm around him and fisted his rock-solid dick. I wasn’t kidding last night. I’d do whatever he asked. I was totally his. Sliding my cock in his crease, I stroked his dick and planted biting kisses on his neck and shoulder.

“Oh fuck. Yeah.” He hissed and clutched the pillow under his head, rocking with my movements.

Pleasure coiled in my gut, and I pressed harder against him, my tip grazing his hole with each thrust. His dick pulsed in my hand, and I slipped my thumb over the tip, swiping precum over it. “You like this, huh?”

“Yeah, want you to fuck me, but not yet.” He groaned and squirmed, goosebumps rising on his back and ass.

Biting my lower lip, I lost myself in the growing sensation in my cock, my aching balls, and the feel of his hole as I glided over it. God, I wanted to breach it, to have all of him. But I’d give him what he wanted.

His body trembled in front of me, and his dick swelled in my pumping hand. “Fuck, close.” He bit into his pillow and pulled on his ass cheek, opening his crease. “Pretend like you’re fucking me.”

“Yeah, okay.” I thrust faster against him, rubbing my cock over his hole, and quickened the pace on his shaft, squeezing the head. Pleasure peaked inside me, and I fell over the edge, my brows tensing and my mouth dropping open. “Fuck, coming.” Harsh contractions spurted my cum inside his crack.

He erupted in moan after moan, his dick twitching in myhand as he spilled over my fingers and onto the sheets. As it slowed, he panted.

I hugged him into my chest with all my strength. I never wanted to let him go or leave his bed. One night with the guy and I was so far in that I could barely think straight. Did I love him? Shit, probably. He’d think I was crazy if I told him that already, but I’d been crushing on him for over a month and him ignoring me had only made my feelings stronger. And now I had him.I fucking had him!

“Shit, that felt good.” He puffed out a breath and twisted in my hold to lie on his back. “Guess I’ll need to wash my sheets today.” He chuckled.

“Yeah, guess so.” Propping onto an elbow, I gazed down at him, my thoughts going back to last night. “How’s the knee?”

“No idea.” He gave me a soft grin. “I’ll find out when I go to stand on it.” He bent it under the covers, then straightened his leg. “Seems fine so far.” He shifted his head on his pillow, his lips pressing together. “We need to talk before we, um, have sex.”

“Yeah? Okay.” Leaning down, I gave him a lingering kiss. “You can tell me anything.” And I wanted to know all of him, down to every last cell in his body. Fuck, my pre-med was coming out.

“I think we should clean up first, and I’ll make us some breakfast.” He swung the covers open and sat up, throwing his legs off the edge of the bed.

“So, this is breakfast conversation?” At least he wasn’t kicking me out. I climbed off the bed.

“Yeah, guess so.” Leaning on his nightstand, he carefully stood, then gave me a smile. “It doesn’t hurt today. Your professional placement of the ice pack last night seems to have done the trick.”

“Well, if you’re a hockey player and don’t know how to properly ice an injury, you’re in big trouble.” I chortled, then scannedthe room for my clothes. I knew I’d tossed them on the floor somewhere.

“Uh, want to wear a pair of my sweats for now?” He ambled to a modern dresser in dark wood, matching his slatted headboard, and opened the middle drawer. “Here, these should fit you.” He held out a pair of deep-blue sweatpants.

“Thanks.” I took them from him. I’d clean up before I actually put them on. I spied the opening to an en suite bathroom and padded toward it.

A few minutes later,we were both cleaned up and standing in his kitchen, him pulling bacon and eggs out of the refrigerator while I leaned my ass on the counter, drinking orange juice. His place was nice, with newer white cabinets and stainless-steel appliances. I glanced at his Keurig coffee maker on the light granite tile counter, groaning as it poured coffee into a mug. “So, no Canadian bacon?” I huffed a snort.

“No, believe it or not, we usually eat regular bacon up there.” He threw me a smirk. “You like croissants?” He pulled a box down from an upper cabinet and set it on the counter. “I got these at that bakery down the street, Queer Confections?”

“Oh yeah, love that place.” I stepped toward the box and opened it. The fluffy pastries were drizzled with chocolate. “These are so good. I don’t know what the owner puts in them, but I’ve never had anything like it.”

With a nod, he fished frying pans out of a deep drawer next to his stove and set them on the glass burners, then turned the knobs at the back. “Coffee is done. You can take that one and make me another?”

“Sure.” I stopped at his back and kissed his bare shoulder, then poured creamer into my coffee and started another cup. I glanced at him setting bacon strips in a pan and cracking eggs. This was nice, like we belonged together.

“You like your eggs sunny side up or what?” he asked as the bacon crackled in the pan, the scent of it floating through the house.

“Uh, over easy.” I sipped my coffee. “Can I help with anything?” This was going to be a treat. I’d been making protein drinks every morning for a few months now, and even though I tried to mix them up, I was getting pretty sick of them.

“You can set the table.” He flipped the eggs in the pan with a spatula.

“Okay.” I looked over his cabinets. Where would he put the dishes? I opened one next to the refrigerator, and there they were. “Got it on the first try.” With a chuckle, I grabbed plates, then silverware from a drawer. It was weird, like we thought alike. He had set up his kitchen the way I would have. As I set the table, I glanced back at him, now plating the food. I strolled back in for the box of croissants and the carton of orange juice, then brought it all to his black dinette.

He set a plate of eggs and another of bacon down in the center of the table. “Just going to get my coffee, but you go ahead and dig in.” He strode into the kitchen.

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