Page 60 of An Unexpected Kind of Love

“C’mere,” I demand. And in a moment, he’s back in my arms, and we’re caught tangled together on the sofa, the rub of his cock against my arse. Lube-slick, he presses in, burying his face against my neck and shoulder with a shudder.

“Oh— Blake—”

I’m begging and urgent and feral. Our kisses are fierce. My cock strains and…fuck. Just,fuck.

“You’re so hot.” Blake’s arms are powerful and his mouth blazes on mine. And as the summer storm thunders overhead, there’s no one around to hear our cries. There’s Blake and there’s me, and our urgency while he rides me.

“I want you.” Grasping at him, it’s the last coherent thing I say.

Blake mutters nonsense against my ear. His stubble’s rough on the side of my face. And I don’t care, because I don’t ever want him to stop.

And when I can’t take it any longer, the amazing feeling of him inside me, I make desperate, incoherent noises as his hand works my cock. Arching, I spurt messily all over us. We’re pressed together, sticky with cum and sweat. Then he comes, bucking against me, holding my wrist roughly with his other hand.

He thrusts a sharp rhythm of my heartbeat, of the beat we make together. And eventually, Blake sags against me, his face still pressed against my neck. And we are left quiet and reverent. He’s trembling, from effort or emotion, I don’t know, but it’s fucking hot and I wrap my arms and legs tighter around him.

At last, he lifts his head. His face is soft by the firelight. He kisses me reverently, like I’m to be cherished. And I do the same. And we forget about the world beyond the cottage, or the ocean between our homes. Because all that matters right now is that we’re together, far away from the frenetic energy of London, where time’s suspended. Out here in Cumbria, it’s just us, together.

Sometime in the dead of night, there’s a ringing by my head. On the bedside table, my phone comes to life, incessantly bright and buzzing. I should have shut the stupid thing off before we went to bed.

But then a thought comes to me through my disorientation. I’m not in my bed. There’s a man beside me. Blake—and not a Grindr offering. Or my ex.

I groan sleepily, determined to ignore the phone, but what if it’s something important?

What if it’s Mum, and something’s happened? Or even Gemma? A cold fear grips me and gives me a sharp kick to wakefulness.

I reach for the phone and answer in a half-alert state, sleep still thick on my tongue while my brain scrambles to make sense of what’s happening. “H’llo?”

“Aubrey?”

And it’s Eli.

Why is Eli calling at 3:00 a.m.? My stomach knots with dread.

Even in that one word—my name—I know him so well that I know he’s out of sorts, all jangled, and something’s wrong.

“It’s me,” I say. “Just give me a sec.”

I sit up and push hair out of my eyes. Through the slightly open door of the bedroom, we left the cabinet lights on in the kitchen as a nightlight in an unfamiliar space. Not wanting to disturb Blake more than I have already, I find shorts and a hoodie in the dark and head out into the chill air away from the heat of Blake and our bed.

Along the way, I pause to dress and try to wake up a little.

“Right, you’ve got me now.” I gulp, bracing myself. Something’s definitely wrong for him to call at this hour. It’s not his style. It would make more sense for Mum to call, but obviously it’s not her. Ryan, maybe? “What’s happened?”

A nervous laugh. Have I ever heard Eli get nervous before? Probably it’s genetically impossible for him.

“Eli?”

There’s silence and a sigh. “Me and Ryan had a fight.”

I blink. “No one’s dead?”

“Jesus. No. Why would you—”

“Because it’s three in the fucking morning, that’s why,” I retort, pacing the length of the cottage, passing by the kettle, pausing long enough to fill it and turn it on. “No sane person calls another at this hour unless it’s an emergency. Or you’re really, really drunk.”

“Well, it’s an emergency to me,” says Eli, wavering. Emotion is all caught up thick in his throat. “I didn’t realize the time. I had a few drinks and…I didn’t know who else to call.”

I groan, shaking my head. “Where’s Ryan? Can’t you spend this time working things out with him and I can go back to bed? Because, honestly, you lost the right to call me at stupid o’clock a long time ago.”

---