Page 309 of Sticks and Stones
It made him laugh.
“You’re a nut.”
Maybe he was, but Ethan was perfectly calm after the events last night. He’d put all of his faith in Gene, and they’d both weathered the storm.
And came out the other side just fine.
As long as neither one of them was hurt, then there was nothing to worry about. That was how he felt.
“Did it hurt?” Gene asked, knowing he’d understand what he was asking.
Ethan couldn’t answer that.
“I don’t remember much,” he stated. “I recall the part where I got a face full of Snow, and then I remember most of the ride to the hotel, and flashes of a shower. After that, it’s sketchy. It’s bits and pieces. I remember you fucking me, and me having more than a few orgasms.”
All of that was fact.
Gene shared the truth about what happened.
“Unfortunately, I was drugged up, too, but not as much as you,” Gene admitted. “I remember all of it. I just couldn’t stop myself. I was afraid you’d be angry with me for what happened. I was so scared I’d hurt you.”
That was funny.
Why?
He’d been worried about the same thing.
“How can I be upset?” Ethan asked. “We were both drugged by that shit. It’s not your fault, or mine.”
Gene knew he was being logical. That tended to be his thing.
“Well, maybe because I roughly took your ass. I’ve been trying to ease into it, and trust me. There was no easing done last night.”
Ethan was sore, but not in a bad way. Honestly, he felt like he’d had a hard workout that involved his dick lifting weights, and landing on his ass a few times.
What concerned him the most was that he had a killer headache, his mouth was dry, and he felt like he needed a shower with a caffeine IV drip.
“Did I tell you stop?” he asked.
He laughed.
“Stop wasNOTin your vocabulary last night. Trust me on that.”
He ran his fingers through Gene’s chest hair.
“Well, then, I guess we answered the question as to whether or not I could handle it, big guy.”
He reassured him.
“Gene, I’m good. Really. I mean, I feel like I fell into the back of a garbage truck, it smashed me flat, flipped me out, and backed over me. My head is pounding, my dick is aching, and I think I have third degree dehydration. Sore would be nice. I’m three days past sore. I’m at fucked up. Like we invited Jack, Jim, and Jose to the party, where we passed around a bottle of Crown until we died.”
He laughed.
“God. I’m glad I’m not the only one,” he said, kissing him.
Ethan reassured him.
“I told you that we’d be fine—with the going further—not the drugs. That shit isn’t a good idea. Period. The sex isn’t the reason I feel like shit. That’s the best part of last night.”
