Page 27 of Roleplay at Randy's
It is nowhere near time for them to be home yet.
I pull the dildo out of my hole, shuddering at the sudden emptiness, and hop up from the towel I’m laying on. It’s damp from all the lube and my own wetness, but nothing soaked through the bed, so I sigh in relief and wrap the toy and lube bottle up in the towel and shove them into my toy box.
I’ll wash the towel later.
“Hey,” I croak out, trying to assess if my voice sounds like I’ve been having sex. “Just a second.”
“You’re alright. No rush.”
I’m sure he has some idea of what I was up to, giventhat this is what he gave me explicit permission to use his bedroom for. Still, I hunt down my boxers and throw them on, and once my phone and tripod are also tucked neatly into my box and I’m sure I’ve left nothing unsavory for Elias to discover, I head to the bedroom door and unlock it.
Cracking the door open, the first thing I see is Elias’ patient smile on the other side.
“I’m sorry,” he says, bashful eyes flicking away from mine. “Didn’t mean to interrupt, but I heard … well I thought …” He shakes his head. “I thought I heard you crying, and I got worried.”
Of course he did, because there’s no one sweeter in the whole world than Elias Lee.
Even if his worry brings out my own smile, it also fans the flames of heat rising in my cheeks. I push the door the rest of the way open, box tucked under my armpit because there’s no hiding it, and move out of the doorway a step too close to Elias.
He smells like coconut, and the proximity mixed with my recent indecent thoughts makes my head spin.
Hands brace my arms when I stumble, and his skin on mine does nothing but stoke the fire in my belly.
“I’m okay,” I say, finally bringing my eyes to his, but when I do, his stare isn’t aimed at my face. I follow his gaze and suck in a rough breath.
Fuck. Shit.
We haven’t had this talk yet, and weshould haveabsolutely, but I just haven’t found a good time to bring it up—and maybe just maybe a little part of me is scared he’ll lose the attraction he feels for me when he finds out.
His eyes are taking in my chest—my bare chest—surgery scars on full display. They’re dark and a little jarring, and Iself-consciously rub a finger over them as I try to find my voice.
“Matty?” He sounds confused, and fuck he probably is.
With a shake of my head, I clear my throat and walk around him to the bookshelf where I usually keep my hearing aids and carefully lift the box onto the top shelf. I contemplate putting the hearing aids in, but I’ve found I like having the quiet around the house without them—at least when Elias is home. He usually speaks pretty clearly, and if I can’t see him, his words are usually right in my ear anyway.
I turn back to find him facing me, hands stuffed in his joggers and a curious but calm expression on his face. The urge to cover up is strong, but I don’t lean into it.
Instead, I cross the handful of feet between us and stand in front of him, painstakingly aware that not only am I shirtless, but the only stitch of clothing I have on isunderwear.
“I’m trans,” I say softly, monitoring his expression for any minute change. His gaze wanders my body, and I feel too fucking exposed, somehow more embarrassed about him seeing me like this than if he had walked in on me with the toy.
His hands graze my arms, giving me the option to pull away.
I don’t.
They skirt up my shoulders, cup the back of my neck, and I tilt my head as his fingers get lost in the loose strands.
Our eyes lock, and he sighs contently with a gentle smile. “Okay.”
My breath rattles in my lungs. “Okay?”
His fingers tighten in my hair. Not painfully, but I gasp anyway because every touch from Elias feels like too much. He drops his forehead to mine and exhales a breathy chuckle.
“What did you think I would say, silly?”
It’s really,reallyhard to think with him this close.
I swallow down the impulse to kiss him, to just surge forward and take it—deal with the fallout later.
