Page 38 of Spring Breakup
“Practice what?” Tyler said, confused, and it made Dean feel like they’d been having two different conversations.
“Knocking the walls down. Correct me if I’m wrong, but fighting your brain, engaging it, was what made that blowjob so hot, right? I’m willing to fight you all fucking day.”
Tyler suddenly looked cornered. “I made rules.” There was a stubborn glint in his eyes.
“I’m not asking to break them.”
Tyler sat up, and Dean could have punched himself in the face. Silence was freaking free. Tyler obviously wanted his walls up and firmly in place, and Dean’s help was unwelcome.
“We’re already breaking them, though. This was a whole conversation. While cuddling. And fuck.” Tyler pinched the bridge of his nose. Dean rubbed his back because he couldn’t help it.
“I have sex toys.”
“What?” Tyler whipped around and stared down at Dean.
He shrugged. The conversation was killing him. He was going to yell at Leo when he got a chance. Opening up was torture. He felt like he’d been scraped face-first over cement.
“I’m changing the subject back to something easier. I have sex toys. I brought my favorites with me because I knew I might hook up with Rosie and Leo, and I only have so many hands.”
“Okay.” Tyler blinked, the wheels seeming to turn in his head.
“I’ll show you… when you want me to show you. I’ll make you feel good when you want me to make you feel good. I’ll tie you up. I’ll restrain you. I’ll play those mind games you pretend to hate but actually love. And I’ll follow your rules until you break them yourself. I’m yours to use until that avalanche is clear.”
Dean nearly said that conversations and cuddling and kissing wouldn’t change anything, that Tyler’s boundaries were safe even if they snuggled a little, kissed a little, but Dean couldn’t force the lie past his tongue.
Tyler’s boundaries weren’t safe, and neither were Dean’s.
ChapterFifteen
Tyler was embarrassedto admit that his experience with sex toys began and ended with a dusty old dildo he’d had in his bedside table for eight years.
He’d never used it with a partner. Francis knew it was there. They’d talked about it since it lived next to Tyler’s lube, but neither of them had been that interested in introducing it into the bedroom.
Tyler clambered out of Dean’s arms. He didn’t want to think about Francis. Or their sex life. Or the blaring foghorn in his head telling him he had been missing out on so, so much because he’d been too cautious, too conventional to be honest about his desires.
He really, really didn’t want to think about the softness in Dean’s eyes, the vulnerability, as they’d talked about art and sex and friendship. The conversation had felt special, as if Dean was letting him in on something that was secret and personal, which wasludicrous.
It was simply the result of the fantastic-sex hormones leaving their systems.
Tyler’s chronic overthinking was not going to ruin the straightforward arrangement with Dean.
Sex. No strings. No feelings. With a deadline.
“I’m going to take a nap,” Dean said. He was still sprawled out on the kitchen floor, looking like a pajama-clad sex god.
“It’s not even lunchtime.” They had only been awake for a few hours.
Dean took a deep, slow breath. And oh, Tyler was very familiar with exasperation. It often reared its ugly head whenever he missed social cues because his impulse to be a know-it-all was too great.
“Do you just want to get away from me?” Tyler asked. “You don’t have to lie about taking a nap. We can be honest. I kind of want to get away from you too.”
Dean sat up and laughed. He grabbed Tyler’s hand and stared up at him with such an open, earnest expression. “I don’t want to get away from you, but I’m happy to give you space. And I didn’t sleep great last night.”
“Why?” Tyler couldn’t take his eyes off Dean’s fingers wrapped around his own.
“Why what?”
“Why couldn’t you sleep?”
