Page 53 of Contingently Yours
Hoisting his heavy frame up off the floor is enticing in its own right. The feel of his weight, the hair underneath his arms, the way his cock bobs as he moves—he no longer looks like someone I have to fake it with. He just looks like a lover.
His lips are pliant underneath mine as I capture his mouth once he’s on his feet. They open and move at my every unspoken command, trying to keep up with what I give them, what I take. I don’t let him up for air until I can’t breathe myself.
I take in the sight he makes, chest and stomach heaving. He’s like a furnace, and I’m stoking a fire he can’t keep up with. Running my hand across his pecs, they twitch under my touch. I snake downward, grazing my palm down his belly, through the thick trail of soft hair there. His jeans are obscenely tented, and I almost don’t want to take them off just so I can see him like this a little longer. Reaching down, I cup his bulge and squeeze. He grunts, and I feel it on my lips as I murmur, “Get on the bed.”
He absorbs that and then nods, moving around me. I watch him bring a knee up to the mattress and give him a swift little swat on that bubble butt of his.
“No clothes,” I warn when he glances back at me.
Turning around slowly, he looks down at himself, but then his fingers move to the button on his jeans. His gaze stays fixed there like it’s taking all his concentration, so I slide my boxers down over my hips and watch his face when he sees them hit the floor. He stares at my cock for so long, I have to give myself a squeeze and clear my throat.
He does his usual de-pantsing routine, bending over and slipping them off each leg. My chuckle must be louder than I thought.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
He does the same thing with his briefs. It’s a bizarre yet unintentional foreplay, and I want to know if anyone elseever took notice and appreciated that he does it. When he straightens, I wonder for a moment if he’s going to cover himself with his hands. His gaze takes me in again, though, and his posture straightens like his want bolstered his bravery. Turning, he steps around the bed and sits down in front of his pillow. His movements might be awkward, but the look on his face is a gift I’ve never been given. I’m the only thing in Lucas’ world right now. I don’t know why he thinks there’s anything good about me because all I can think is how he’ll be sorry if he ever stops looking at me like that.
CHAPTER 18
Lucas
The sight of Andrew prowling across the bed with that determined expression is both terrifying and arousing. The odd thing is that the terrifying part is just as enjoyable as the arousal. I have no idea what to do or what he wants to do, but I feel free. I didn’t even know I felt fettered before. But now, with both of us stripped bare, seeing the hunger in his eyes, and his hard cock pointing to the ceiling like a twin to mine, all my worries seem weightless. They’re all still there in the back of my mind, but yet, none of them have their claws in me at the moment. No more feeling insecure about my ability to help sell these properties. No more worrying over my bills. No more discomfort about whether seeing Mark and Shannon at the wedding together will be awkward, even though I assured Julia it won’t. And no doubts over Andrew pretending later that whatever happens tonight didn’t happen. Because right here, right now—he and I? It feels right. Seeing on his face that he thinks so too is the answer I didn’t know I needed.
Slipping one knee between my legs, he inches forward, towering over me. “Good looking, huh?” he smirks, leaning down to cage his hands on either side of my shoulders.
“You know you are.”
Just as I think he’s leaning in to give me another one of those breath-stealing kisses, his head lowers. My nipple is envelopedby his mouth, and I gasp. His weight lowers onto me. I can feel his cock pressed up against my thigh, and he damn sure can probably feel mine pressed into his abdomen. The pressure there and the static electricity that zips from my nipple down to my balls have me fighting to hold still. My fingers are in his hair before I even realize it. It’s so soft and feels like a privilege to be able to touch what always looks so wild and unruly, as though I tamed an animal.
He murmurs something that sounds like, “Those fucking noises you make for me,” and moves on to my other nipple while squeezing my thigh. The combination has me making more noises I’m sure I’ve never made in my life.
I’m leaking against his stomach. I don’t know if that’s going to weird him out since he’s made comments about fluids on more than one occasion, but when a streak of wetness paints my thigh, I’m not mad about it. Not at all. His taste…it was like a drug hitting my tongue when I took him in. I don’t know why he stopped me, but I feel a sense of pride knowing that the precum smearing against my skin may have, in part, been from my doing.
I desperately want to pull him up for more kisses, but he moves lower, his breath ghosting down my abdomen. I watch his hand trail over the line of hair on my stomach, down to my groin. He pauses, staring at my dick.
Is he having a change of heart? Is there something wrong with my dick? I can count on one hand how many partners I’ve had, and while I don’t regret the low number, I wish I were more versed in sexual cues so I could have some idea of what he’s thinking.
“I got tested after Shannon…” I hesitate, drawing his gaze up to mine. “Everything came back negative.”
His brows quirk, telling me my health test results probably weren’t part of his concern. “How long ago was that?”
“Four years.” I don’t know why it makes my face heat. There’s nothing wrong with abstaining. “But…I should still be good.”
He blinks at me, and now I know why I’m slightly mortified. In the Andrew Broadhouse logbook of sexual activity, you’d have to be completely incapacitated to go four years with no human contact. His palm glides down the underside of my cock as an almost-delicate caress.
“I’m good too,” he says, looking entranced and moving his hand over my pubic hair. “I got tested before our trip.”
Was he planning on hooking up with someone while we were trying to sell properties? I’m torn between a flicker of unfounded jealousy and feeling like I snagged the prom king.
He whispers something reverently, distracting me. It sounds a lot like, ‘So fluffy,’ as he blows a stream of breath over the hair around my cock.
I shudder and have to inch my legs apart when he slips his other knee in between them. His palms run down the tops of my thighs and then back up, warming them with a touch that’s surprisingly gentle. With his lips hovering over the tip of my cock, it’s all I can do to hold still. I pray it doesn’t twitch and slap him in the mouth.
What is he doing? Also, what is he waiting for?
“Fouryears?”He arches a brow, looking concerned and maybe even angry.
