Page 33 of Milo
I nod. “And only.”
He sighs and hugs me. “Baby, I’m so sorry for that. I wish …” He trails off and I snuggle in closer, loving the feel of him against me.
“What do you wish?”
I feel him move as he shakes his head. “Silly things.”
“Is it that I’ll like sex because that’s never going to happen.” I shudder. “I hate it. It’s messy and painful and cold. Not like anything anyone else says. I think I might be a monk.” I nod firmly and wish I hadn’t when my stomach roils. I press back to my thoughts. “I’m going to be a monk. I’m going to get fat and wear a really long brown cassock and laugh really loudly all the time.”
His face is warm when he turns it to me. “I think there’s more to being a monk than obesity, wearing a cassock, and laughing loudly.” He cups my face, forcing me to look blearily at him. “Baby, sex is wonderful. It’s hot and sweaty and fucking transcendental sometimes. If you think it’s cold, then he wasn’t doing it properly.”
“What?”
He nods firmly. “Sweetheart, he was your first. That first time with him should have been tender and warm and you should have come so hard you almost blacked out. If I’d been …” He trails off and I touch his mouth curiously.
“If you’d been, what? You mean if you’d been my first, you’d have made it like that?” My voice sounds full of wonder and I wish passionately that this had happened. Then the world dims a little and I remember that it didn’t and won’t and that I’m just pale, thin, boring Milo who’s useless in bed.
I stare at him. His eyes are dark and his lips full and he’s so pretty he makes my heart hurt, and for the first time a spark of rebellion stirs in my belly.Why do I have to be like this?How is it fair that everyone else goes shagging left, right, and centre enjoying themselves and showing off their confidence and I’m inhibited and boring?
“Then maybe you should show me now,” I say slowly, and before I can think I lean forwards and press my mouth to his.
He freezes under me and I pause, wondering what to do. I open my mouth to say sorry but as I do, he grabs my head and pushes his tongue into my mouth andoh God, the feeling. His mouth is warm and wet and he tastes like toothpaste, and when his tongue rubs against mine it sends sparks into my balls and my hips move and twist against him.
For a second I’m lost in a very strange land full of a hot darkness and heated sighs and it’s so good, but then he stiffens underneath me, and before I can lick him again he sets me back on his thighs.
I look curiously at him. He’s pink in the face and his hair looks wild as if I’ve been running my fingers through it. I look down at my hands. Maybe I was.
“Sweetheart, no,” he says in a hoarse voice.
I smile at him, feeling suddenly bold. “I like it when you call me that,” I say happily.
“You do?” He sounds bemused.
I nod. “I want you to call me that when we’re naked and you have your cock inside me.”
He swallows hard and loudly. “Youdo?”
I nod and my stomach lurches again. “Yes,” I say faintly. “But can we do that after I’ve been sick in the sink?”
“Shit!”
Niall
I look down at the sleeping figure of Milo and smile. He’s lying in bed, his hair wet from the shower I’d thrust him into after he threw up in the sink. I grimace. That had been lovely, as had been clearing it up. And showering him afterwards had been like washing one of the walking dead. Very unsexy.
Dotty is curled into the crook of his legs, looking very comfortable. “I know you like him really, but not as much as I do,” I whisper and she purrs, her eyes green and enigmatic.
I smile and stroke one of the long waves of Milo’s hair back from that heart-shaped face with the pointed chin. The vomit hadn’t been sexy, but I had still enjoyed taking care of him more than I like to acknowledge because even drunk, he’d been so Milo. Quirky and funny and blisteringly honest. I stroke his hair again and he nestles into my palm, and something stirs inside me in the soft place that I don’t show to anyone.
Even as a small boy, he made me smile with his awkwardness and his pithy retorts to his brother. There had been something unquenchable about him then. Even with the speech impediment and shyness he’d seemed almost dauntless, like he was a Weeble and no matter how the world knocked him over, he’d still get up with that shy smile of his.
My own smile fades. Until Thomas, that is. That wanker had managed to dim Milo’s spark so thoroughly that even now, a fewyears on, he still bears the scars. How could someone take all that lovely stumbling warmth and shy eagerness and turn it to ashes? How could he have had that in his bed and not made him feel like a king?
I think of that moment when he’d straddled me, his face full of a sudden purpose, and how he’d kissed me. Awkward but so full of life and a heat underneath that I can sense would be in danger of burning me to death if it was let loose.
I feel the heat run under my skin and wonder if I should have another cold shower. I’ve slept with many men and women, some separately, some together. I’ve done most things, ruling out a few that make me shudder at the thought, and I’ve enjoyed every minute. Threesomes, foursomes, I’ve had them all and come every time.
I thought that was enough, but tonight Milo circumvented my impressions the way only he can, taking me by surprise with the passion that had swept through me at his touch.
