Page 55 of Poles Apart
“You and these stairs, baby. Last time you wanted to carry me down, this time you want to carry me up. How about we stay right here?” He gestured to the sofa. Jacob lay him down, crawling over him, peppering gentle kisses to his face and neck.
Dom held onto his face, and their lips met again and again. He was getting carried away, and sex was about to be had on this very sofa, but something made him stop. Jacob looked at him in confusion.
“What’s wrong? Why’d you stop?”
Dom wasn’t sure how to say this, but he felt that whenever they came together, they ended up here, either on a sofa or in a bed, and tonight, just once, he wanted the night to be special. Not a night to look back on where sex had once again taken a starring role. Not that he didn’t want that, but he realised he wanted more. He wanted the romance, wanted the talking, and definitely wanted the kissing.
“Is it OK if we just do this tonight? Kissing, lying here on the sofa?” Dom looked up at Jacob, hoping to see understanding in his eyes, but instead seeing complete adoration.
“Yeah, this is about perfect.” And as Jacob kissed him again, a slow, toe-curling kiss where his heart beat faster and the room seemed ten degrees hotter, he realised how very satisfied he was with exactly this.
Chapter Thirty
Jacob
At first, Jacob couldn’t understand why Dom had stopped him. Did he not want to do this with him? Was he having second thoughts again?
But when he’d explained he wanted to lie together, with no expectation of anything more, he’d been happy, and yeah, it was just about fucking perfect.
He thought maybe it was a good thing he’d stopped them when he had. He needed to pick up Abby at some point, and he wanted time to spend with Dom, getting to know him, know his body. He needed far more time for that than they had tonight.
He wanted to map each delicious inch of pure skin, wanted to taste every dip and valley, become intoxicated with his scent. He didn’t want to rush.
He kissed him for what seemed like an eternity, running his hands through Dom’s hair, feeling the contours of his face beneath his fingers. He looked at Dom with his beautiful, now swollen lips, and he remembered how they’d brought him so close to orgasm the last time they’d been together. He groaned as his dick ached, straining for release.
As hard as it was to pull himself away from Dom’s intoxicating kisses, he untangled himself from his arms, sitting up. Dom leaned against him, his head on his chest, both of them struggling to catch their breath. Jacob held his hand, lazily stroking circles on Dom’s hip through his jeans. He felt him snuggle in closer, and for a moment, he closed his eyes. What would it be like to have this all the time, to have Dom lying next to him every night?
Jacob wanted to find out but knew it was still too soon for him to declare how he felt about Dom. So he contented himself with being here, being with him.
Dom sighed, and Jacob heard him sniff deeply.
“Are you smelling me?” he asked, slightly surprised.
“Maybe I am,” Dom replied with a sigh. “You smell like strawberries and cream”—he sniffed again—“and toast.”
“Toast? How the hell can I smell of toast? We haven’t even had any.”
Dom sat up and looked at him. “I don’t know why you smell of toast; you just do. And do you know what, my little toastie?” Dom tapped him on the end of his nose. Jacob looked at him, having no idea what he was going to say next. He didn’t have to wait long.
“I fucking love toast!” he declared. “It’s like the best, most versatile food ever. You can have it for breakfast, lunch and dinner and never get tired of it. Are you versatile, Jacob?” Dom asked, a glint of mischief in his eyes.
Jacob started to laugh. “I honestly can’t believe you. You’re comparing me to a snack.”
“Ah, but it’s not any snack, is it? It’s fucking toast, Jacob! A snack for all seasons, a snack for all times of the day. A snack I can coat in chocolate spread or jam or Marmite and lick it right off.” Dom screwed his face up at the last one. “Not Marmite, fucking hate that stuff, but you get the idea.”
Jacob wasn’t entirely sure what Dom was talking about, and he wondered if he was telling him how he felt for him in his mad, convoluted way of describing things.
“If I was a snack, what would I be?” Dom looked at him in earnest now. He was deadly serious about this, he could tell. One wrong word, and he was sure Dom would never forgive him.
“Erm, well. I don’t quite know what to say. Let me think for a minute.”
“If you have to think about it, I’m not that memorable, am I?” Dom was trying not to laugh, and Jacob could feel a smile tugging at his own lips.
“Well, you’re sweet.” He looked over at Dom, who was wrinkling his nose. “Not sweet?” Dom shook his head. “Spicy?” Dom was nodding now. “Something with chilli then. How about a lovely, smooth, dark chilli chocolate? A hint of sweet with a hit of heat and spice.”
“Mm, sounds like me.” Dom smiled wickedly.
“Something luxurious and indulgent.” He placed a kiss on Dom’s thumb.
