Page 86 of When Ben Loved Jace
“You’re too thick,” I say apologetically before making him pull out.
“Sorry. Uh…” Tim casts around. The only thing close to us is a bottle of tanning oil. “Think this will work?”
I laugh. “We’ve tried weirder things!”
We lube each other up, Tim inserts both his middle fingers, like he wants to pry me apart. He’s about to one way or the other, because I’m ready again.
This time we have more luck. I’m able to ease myself down all the way and hold myself there. Tim stretches his neck to kiss me while flexing his cock.
“All right,” I say, placing my hands on his chest and carefully bouncing up and down a few times. “Go for it.”
That’s all the encouragement Tim needs. He wraps his arms around my torso, clutching me tight, and starts thrusting like a jackhammer. I fall forward, hugging his head to my chest, which he turns sideways to accommodate me. I’m whimpering. He’s grunting. My oiled-up cock is rubbing against his stomach and he’s hitting me in just the right spot. I can’t even catch my breath enough to warn him before I start shooting.
“Did you just come?” Tim asks.
“Yeah!” I gasp.
“Fucking awesome!”
He grabs my hips and thrusts long and hard. Once, twice… and on the third, he growls while keeping me impaled, his throbbing cock unloading inside of me. Then he collapses backward onto the deck chair, taking me with him. I shift so our bodies are pressed together, allowing our beating hearts to reunite.
“This time it’s forever,” he says suddenly. “Promise me.”
I lift my head, not understanding the fear in his eyes. How can he have any doubts after the way we just reconnected? I don’t just mean the sex. His confession in the pool, the morning we already shared, the promise of the next few days…
“I’m back,” I assure him.
“You’re my boyfriend again?”
I smile and nod. “I’m your Benjamin.”
Chapter Twenty
Eric has his own library! I can hardly believe it. Shelves line the four walls, expect where windows and a door create breaks. The center of the room is furnished with a cluster of chairs that all face a coffee table. I’m in absolute heaven! And exceedingly envious. I doubt I’ll ever have an entire room dedicated to the same purpose. Unless I sacrifice my bedroom. That might be worth having to sleep on the floor. After I browse the extensive selection, Tim excitedly pulls books featuring his favorite artists off the shelves, ranting about each. Eventually we settle down so I can leaf through them while he sits across from me and sketches.
I love being his model again. And the center of his attention. That happened so rarely the first time around—just the occasional weekend or two, when his parents were out of town. Or during Christmas break, which I remember with special fondness because we had an excess of time together. Like now. Although we’ve already whiled away most of the days. We haven’t needed the traditional sources of entertainment. Only each other. Nor do we leave the house. Anything we could wish for is already here, in a private sanctuary where we make love, share stories about what happened while we were apart, and dream of a distant future together. We don’t focus on the present much, probably because it’s a little too grounded in reality. Although we do need to start confronting it.
“Eric comes home tomorrow?”
Tim glances up at me to take in more details. “Yeah, but not ‘til late. He’s actually flying back early from the cruise so he can be at the graduation ceremony.”
I’m not as eager for that day to arrive as I once was. Perhaps because I'll have to figure out what comes next. “Are you going to look for a job soon?”
Tim nods. “I don’t want to keep mooching off Eric. He already pays for everything. I should be paying rent while living here. I know he doesn’t need the money, but I still want to contribute.”
“Can I mooch off him?”
Tim laughs. “He’d probably let you.” His eyes meet mine. “Wanna move in with me?”
He makes it sound like a serious offer.I already know my answer, but it wouldn’t be fair to Allison. She’d be stuck with my half of the rent and bills. I don’t want to dwell on my homelife, since I’ve done a masterful job at compartmentalizing the past few days, so I answer him with another question.
“What kind of work are you looking for?”
Tim shrugs and resumes sketching. “Something at an architectural firm, I guess.”
“They’ll be blown away by your passion,” I tease.
He laughs. “It’ll make my parents happy. They paid for my education, so I figure it’s the least I can do.”
