Page 70 of My Best Friend Is Broken
It would be useful for his new role because I imagine many of Dr. Torrino’s patients are more comfortable speaking their native language, especially when they’re hurt or scared. But more than that, I love the idea of sharing that part of myself with Liam.
I was born in London. I grew up here, truly bilingual in the way that happens when you live between two cultures. English is the language of school and friends and the outside world, but Italian will always be the language of family, of home, of love. It’s the language my nonna used for bedtime stories and my mother used for lullabies and Uncle Vinnie used when he wanted to make sure his affection was understood beyond any doubt.
The idea of speaking Italian with Liam, of hearing my childhood language in his voice, makes something warm and possessive unfurl in my chest. Like another way of claiming him, making him mine in a way that goes deeper than just love or desire.
Ti amo, Nicky.The imagined sound of those words in his voice makes me grin like an idiot as I reach for the shampoo.
I’m actually humming. Some half-remembered song from childhood that my nonna used to sing while she cooked, when I hear footsteps outside the shower. The bathroom door opening and closing, the soft sound of clothes being removed.
I turn toward the glass door of the shower cubicle, and my heart nearly stops.
Liam is standing just outside, completely naked, with a grin that’s equal parts nervous and mischievous.
“Room for two in there?” he asks, and his voice is steady despite the slight pink in his cheeks.
“Hell yeah!” I exclaim, yanking the shower door open so quickly I nearly rip it off its hinges.
Liam laughs at my enthusiasm, actually laughs, bright and genuine and full of joy, and steps into the shower with me. The sound of his laughter mixing with the splash of water is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.
And then I get my first proper look at grown-up Liam naked, and my mind goes completely blank.
He’s beautiful. Different from the teenager I remember, leaner now, carrying less muscle but with a kind of refined elegance that takes my breath away. Prison hasn’t destroyed him. It’s stripped him down to something essential and lovely and entirely himself.
There are scars I don’t recognize, marks that tell stories I’m not sure I want to know. But there’s also strength in the line of his shoulders, grace in the way he moves, and a new confidence in the way he looks at me looking at him.
“You’re staring,” he says, but he’s smiling.
“You’re gorgeous,” I reply honestly.
He steps closer, water running down both our bodies now, and the heat between us has nothing to do with the temperature of the shower. This is everything I’ve wanted, everything I’ve hoped for. Liam choosing intimacy, choosing me, choosing to be vulnerable in a way that’s about love rather than desperation.
When he kisses me, it’s passionate and sweet and full of promise. His hands find my shoulders, my back, exploring the territory of my body with the same careful attention he brought to cleaning my wound. Like he’s memorizing me, mapping my body, making this moment into something worth keeping.
I kiss him back with everything I have, pouring years of want and love and relief into the connection between us. This is what it’s supposed to feel like, mutual and joyful and right in every possible way.
The kiss heats and heats. I can taste his hunger. My own senses are burning with an intense need. I have been yearning for this man my entire life. Now, I need him with an intensity that is rewriting my DNA. I am no longer Nicky or Nicolo. I am something far purer.
I am a soul, blazing with pure love.
Our bodies are calling to each other. We are two halves of a whole. Two stars locked in never ending orbit.
My hands run over his skin, slick under the shower, and the only thing I can think is, finally. Finally, I am getting to touch my Liam.
His hands lower to my ass, and he pulls me closer to him with a confidence and a dominance that pulls a strangled moan from me.
His lips leave mine. They pepper over my neck, causing my head to fall back. There is nothing tentative or unsure about the way he is caressing me.
Then Liam is sliding down my body. Dropping to his knees in front of me. I grunt and nearly cum right there and then.
Liam shows me no mercy. He gives me no time to recover or to brace myself. He licks me all the way from root to tip. His tongue is fire and ecstasy. My cry echoes around the shower stall.
His soft lips brush over my cockhead. They roll down my length. My cock eases into the wet heat of Liam’s mouth. He takes me inside himself. Enveloping my cock with his body.
He moves slowly, carefully, tenderly. He isn’t simply blowing me, he is worshipping me.
It is the most incredible feeling I have ever felt. Pleasure more profound than I ever knew existed. Part of me wants to open my eyes to look, but other parts of me know if I see Liam on his knees before me, the shower spray running over his face, my cock bulging his cheek, I’ll cum so hard I will probably die.
And I don’t want this to end yet. Not now, not ever. Heaven is this moment stretched to eternity. Liam in the shower, sucking my cock as if it is something holy.
