Page 60 of Not That Complicated

If he was naked in the bed with me, I would absolutely have sex with him. Which was a terrible idea. “I have clean boxers you can sleep in,” I said.

“Cool.” If he was disappointed, he didn’t show it. He went over to my open duffle on the luggage stand. “As long as you didn’t get them from the dads’ section of M&S. I have standards.”

“I did get them from there,” I said. “Enjoy.”

I was starting to get worried.Wasthere a dads’ section of M&S? Had I been inadvertently shopping in it? Or was this Adam being mean?

He rummaged around and came up with a pair of cotton plaid boxers. Dangling them from a forefinger, he gave me a judgemental look.

I saw where all the comments were coming from. Those boxers were a cheap multipack statement that sex was very low on the priority list. Or a distant memory of a youth long gone.

“Not everyone likes to dress in lace and leopard print,” I said.

“They’re missing out,” Adam said. “Although not leopard print. I’m lace, all the way.” He turned his back, unwrapped the towel, and tossed it over the back of the desk chair, giving me an uninterrupted view of his high, round arse.

Then he bent over to step into the boxers.

I must have squeaked or something, because his voice was heavy with amusement when he said, “Did you faint?”

I tried to say something grown up and witty, like,pshaw. But all that happened was another ungodly noise of startlement and want as he straightened and dragged the boxers slowly up his thighs.

He stopped with the elastic cupping the lower curve of his buttocks and he sort of...tugged, making the two globes bounce. “How about now?” he said.

I grabbed the base of my dick and squeezed viciously hard. It was that, or come from his ridiculous antics.

“I have to say, Ray, I admire your self-control.” Adam strolled over to the bed, switching off the desk lamp en route. He climbed in. “Most guys wouldn’t be able to resist.”

“I am not most guys,” was all I managed

Kudos to me, I sounded pretty detached.

“That’s for sure.” Adam lay on his side facing me, and slipped a hand over my waist. He let it rest there, a solid weight. “Want me to lie on top of you?” he said quietly.

“What? No. No sex. I can’t.” I could. I wanted to. But it would be the worst idea.

“I know,” he murmured. “It’s good for anxiety.”

Flat on my back, primly clutching the duvet to my chin, I blinked at the ceiling. He’d mentioned this before. I rolled my head to look at him. “I don’t have anxiety.”

Flushed from the hot shower, Adam’s cheeks were that beautiful rose peach I couldn’t look away from. He dipped his gaze with a soft hum.

“Do you think I do?” I said.

He hesitated.

I flopped over onto my side until we were nose to nose. “Is that what this evening has been about?” I smacked his chest with the back of my hand. “It’s pity again, isn’t it? A pity cuddle?”

Pure frustration flashed over his face. “No. I don’t do anything out of pity. I’m not that nice. I wish you’d get that through your head.”

Was it me? Was I such a sad creature he felt compelled todosomething about it? Like an abandoned kitten in the rain? Or did he have some sort of kink that made him—

Adam rolled me over onto my stomach and slid on top of me.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“I don’t pity you, Ray,” he said into my ear. “I don’t feel guilty for breaking up your relationship because I didn’t know. It’s not that complicated. I like you, okay?”

I didn’t even flail. I let him manhandle me as if he had the right to, as if I’d given it to him. I lay there, stretched flat in the dark and relaxed under him. I turned my head to one side.

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