Page 48 of An Unexpected Kind of Love

“You’re sure?” he murmurs against my ear.

“Very sure.”

And we go upstairs before my legs buckle. My go-to would be clothes off and a hasty dive under the covers, safely shielded from view. Except it’s way too hot for even a sheet. Very soon, I’m standing in only my boxers and cuff watch. Blake traces the tattoo over my shoulder, the dates inside my other forearm of my father’s birth and death. His fingers trace the map of my body, tweaking a nipple ring as I shudder.

He pauses long enough so I can help him out of his T-shirt, and my God. The man is built like something out of a magazine. Not like everyday people. But then again, film people aren’t everyday people.

“Are you a unicorn?” I manage, gawping with plain admiration.

“No, you shameless letch,” he teases, drawing me into a kiss that only makes me hunger for more. Then it’s a stream of eager kisses and we’re both impulsive and desperate. “But…I see you’re a dragon.”

“Possibly,” I breathe as he presses me down onto the bed. His mouth works up my inner thigh, making me shudder, to breathe hot through the fabric of my shorts, already tenting with the strain of my hardness. Because my body doesn’t miss a chance to respond to him.

And then he pulls my boxers down, and I’m entirely naked before him. Self-conscious, I gulp, daring to gaze at him. Blake’s admiring me most appreciatively, much to my surprise, because I’m definitely no actor, just ordinary me with an ordinary body.

Blake teases my cock with his tongue and then I’m definitely floating outside of my body, because he feels so damned good, and his mouth should definitely have some kind of Interpol ban or watchlist at the very least, leaving me all quivers and gasps. I go from clutching the bedsheets to gripping his shoulders, my fingernails digging into his skin, my animalistic urges imprinted on his body.

“Holy…shit…” I reel, unable to take the all too heady combination of the day’s heat and Blake’s nearness and care and the absolutely incredible way he’s working me with his hand and mouth like there’s a million ways to tease me, and let up, and on it goes till at last I can’t stand it anymore. With a shudder and moan, I erupt hot and fast into the sear of his mouth.

Then the room spins and blood pounds and Blake’s kissing me and kissing me and I don’t want him to ever stop. And I’m clumsily helping him out of his jeans and boxers, still far too clothed for my liking, and his cock is magnificent when sprung from its confines. I stroke him as he murmurs into my ear words that are only for me to hear.

And I’m begging him to continue, his hands skimming my body, like there’s a thousand sunsets in his fingers, and he pauses just long enough for a condom and lube.

“Please, Blake,” I beg, unable to wait any longer. Like I’ve been waiting since the dawn of time for this, quite frankly, and I kiss him fierce, biting his lip.

Then, he’s pressing inside me and I’m truly undone, my arms and legs around him as I sob with the weight of him on my body, the press of him inside. And he keeps saying my name in my ear and how can I be hard again so soon, his endless teasing.

It’s incredible, being together like this, a tangle of limbs on cotton, the sunbeam creeping up the wall. There’s a universe inside this room, the ecstasy of him and me and our rhythmic union. And God, he’s so hot, all sleek muscles under my fingers and against my body.

There’s no way to describe this feeling, our shared lust, but it’s becoming more than that, like there’s some kind of promise being made, like there’s a future beyond right now. Like there’s a day beyond this one for us, and maybe a day after that. It’s hard to know, but for once, I see possibilities.

“God, Blake—”

“You’re so fucking hot—”

And then there’s quite possibly begging between kisses and a lot of groaning and I clutch desperately at him as I urge him on for more, uttering complete nonsense.

He pins my wrists down and I groan with the thrill of him, lost in a sea of pleasure as he finally comes with a cry. He moves with me and that’s about when I come too, drowning in his nearness, the way he’s holding me down, watching me with obvious desire. When he collapses half on me, we’re sticky, and God I’d do this all again in a second.

We gasp together.

Blake eventually lets up on my wrists, shifting just enough so he can unfasten the cuff of my watch. And then he discovers the heart tattooed beneath, a legacy from a lifetime ago. And he gazes at me and kisses it reverently before catching my jaw, kissing me so thoroughly like we exist only to kiss each other.

And we lie there kissing till exhaustion’s claimed us again.

After I awaken again, it’s proper night. The curtains and window are still wide open. Coolish air washes over my skin, a sheet around my waist. Blake traces my shoulder, with the small bedside lamp casting a soft glow. He’s backlit, in shadow.

“Hey,” he whispers.

“It’s some unholy hour, I know it,” I mumble into my pillow, all crinkle and fluff. He’s taken away my watch and who knows where my phone is at—God knows what time it is, but it’s definitely a time meant for sleeping. That is, sleeping for the sensible, which clearly he isn’t. It’s every man for himself. I can’t save him but I can try to save myself. I squeeze my eyes tightly shut.

“I have to go before long. I have a six o’clock call. I was torn about what to do, to let you sleep or not, but I didn’t want to sneak out either.”

“Mmmph.” I press my face deeper into the down pillow. Reluctantly, I soon shift to look at him, curling my body around his. He draws me into his arms and this is so perfect I could live in this moment forever, skin to skin. It’s been so long since I’ve been held like this. Since—

Not going there. Not now. Don’t ruin the moment, brain.

He kisses me lingeringly. “I want you to know I had the best time.”

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