Page 114 of Textbook Defense

“And if we’re in the same city and we want to be together, then… why not just be together until then?”

Because it would break Rowan’s heart. Because he might never recover. Because getting back on the plane would be ten times harder. Because… because….

“A holiday romance?” he joked.

“Exactly.” Though his lips twitched, Jordy’s eyes were too intense to be anything but achingly sincere.

Fuck it. Rowan’s heart was going to be broken and bleeding come New Year’s anyway. What was another knife or two jabbed into it?

The answer must’ve shown on his face, because Jordy dove across the couch into Rowan’s opening arms, his throw pillow aptly tossed to the floor, and brought their mouths together. Rowan pressed into it, parted his lips and twined his arms around Jordy’s neck. He’d missed Jordy so much—his touch, his closeness. Rowan’s whole body lit up from the knowledge of Jordy alone.

Jordy devoured Rowan’s mouth like he was starving, his hands hard, hot brands where he pressed Rowan into the couch cushions. Rowan hadn’t exactly forgotten how demanding and possessive Jordy got, but maybe he’d repressed it, too afraid to look at the memories when he thought it didn’t mean anything.

One of Jordy’s hands slid into the small of Rowan’s back and pulled them closer. Then his fingers slipped under his waistband. Rowan was very much on board with that, but also—

“We should—ngh!—get off, off the couch—fuck!”

Jordy hummed around the mouthful of Rowan’s neck he was sucking and nibbling.

“Bedroom,” Rowan gasped as he arched up into the touch.

Apparently Jordy liked the sound of that, because suddenly Rowan was airborne and Jordy was striding down the hallway.

Rowan groaned into Jordy’s mouth. “Manhandling still hot,” he groaned out, then tasted the sound of Jordy’s laughter.

“Good to know.”

In the bedroom, Jordy placed Rowan on his feet so they could scramble out of their clothes, which took forever because they couldn’t stop touching each other. Then they dove onto the bed together.

Jordy shoved the duvet to the side, and then they were tangled up together on the bed, touching each other everywhere, pressing as close as possible but still not close enough.

“Lube,” Rowan gasped with a beg, and Jordy scrambled in the nightstand. “Fuuuck,” he moaned as Jordy pressed a finger into him. He’d missed this, missed Jordy. He pulled him back in for another kiss, trying to show Jordy how much he wanted this—not just the sex but the closeness.

When Jordy was three fingers in and Rowan was ready, he gasped out, “Enough. Condom,” and Jordy froze.

“Fuck.”

“What?”

Three fingers deep in Rowan’s ass, Jordy blushed and asked awkwardly, “I don’t suppose you have any?”

“Why would I take condoms on a flight when traveling with a kid to see a man I was determined not to sleep with?” Honestly.

“Well, why would I have condoms when living alone and brokenhearted?” Jordy bitched back.

Oh.

Bugger.

“So we don’t have any….”

“No.” Jordy kissed his hip. “Guess a change in plans is in order.” He twisted his fingers and Rowan went cross-eyed.

Maybe it was the pleasure coursing through him, or maybe it was the desperate, caution-to-the-wind attitude of the moment, but suddenly Rowan wanted to make only one change to their itinerary.

He took Jordy’s face in his hands and looked him in the eye. “I haven’t been with anyone since before I met you. If… if it’s the same for you and you’ve been tested recently….”

“Rowan.”

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