Page 23 of Grant
Grant stilled, his back to Spencer. “Of course I want to. I don’t really remember what I said, and I didn’t mean any of it.”
“That’s good to know.” Spencer wrapped his arms around Grant’s middle and leaned his cheek against Grant’s back. “Because neither did I. Not the bits I yelled at you. That was … blowing off steam. Emotional overspill.”
Grant sagged with relief. He clasped Spencer’s hands where they rested on his stomach and held tight. “That’s exactly what it was. Fear and relief and adrenaline.”
“A highly combustible mix.”
The kitchen grew silent except for the gurgling of the coffeemaker. Grant watched it drip coffee into the jug and soaked up Spencer’s warmth and solidity. When the coffee was done brewing, he loosened Spencer’s arms and reached for cups and plates.
Spencer cut the cake, stopping twice to stifle a yawn.
“Restless night?”
“You said it.” Dark chocolate eyes met Grant’s. “Do you know? At some point yesterday, I realised that I’d told Sharp I was in love with you, but that I’d never told you. It bothered me.”
Grant couldn’t stop the silly grin spreading over his face. Nor did he want to. “I told my friends I wanted to spend more time with you and try for something solid, but I never told you, either.”
“I heard it, though. Overheard it, really.”
“I heard you talking to Sharp, too.”
Their laughter came like the tide, slow at first, but with a relentless power neither could withstand. They laughed until they were out of breath and tear tracks marred their faces. Kept chuckling even as they drank their cooling coffee and left the cake for later.
“Bed?” Grant held out a hand, and Spencer clasped it without hesitation.
“The best remedy for sleepless nights.”
Grant’s cock pushing into his arse was—in Spencer’s opinion—the absolute best way to start a morning. And while he knew he didn’t have to be quiet, restraining himself added an extra dimension to the sex.
Spencer buried his face in the pillow and revelled in Grant’s warm weight draped over his back. The tight clutch of fingers on his hips. The lips and teeth on his nape and—most of all—that hot, heavy cock sliding in and out, stretching him and hitting every single hot spot he possessed.
He wanted to beg for faster and harder.
He also didn’t.
They’d spent the previous day and night in bed, sleeping, making love, dozing, and talking. Long, meandering conversations about everything and nothing that had settled them both.
If Grant wanted to start the morning taking Spencer apart, bit by delicious bit, then Spencer was right here for it. He moaned when Grant found a sensitive spot, and pushed into every thrust, feeling himself careen closer and closer to the edge. His climax would be incandescent and keep him lit for the rest of the day. He was fine with that, too.
He tensed as Grant’s thrusts grew erratic. And then they were falling. Tumbling over the edge in a tangle of limbs and kisses.
They’d barely caught their breaths when Grant’s phone chimed.
“Team breakfast in an hour,” Fritz ordered, loud enough for Spencer to hear. “Be there.”
Grant dropped the phone onto the bedside table and rearranged the covers. “Are you up for team breakfast?” he asked.
Spencer wrapped both arms around him and nuzzled into his neck. “Sure. If you lend me a shirt.”
Team breakfast turned into Sunday lunch, then turned into a lazy afternoon spent lounging by the lake. Spencer checked on Rylan, who complained that Fritz had buried him under a mountain of paperwork and had forbidden him from lifting anything heavier than a coffee mug. He ate too much and listened to the others telling him off for being reckless. Eventually, he drifted down to the jetty, where he dangled his feet in the water, paying only scant attention to the insults and teasing flashing back and forth behind him.
He’d come to Knightdale Court in search of help and had liked the men he’d met. Comfortable alone, Spencer had few friends outside of the hospital and hadn’t expected to be pulled into their circle, or to be comforted by the way they cared for each other and worked together towards a common goal. They were a family, and Spencer hadn’t thought to be included.
He might have met and fallen for Grant at any other time. But seeing Grant interact with his family and having the others rallying around them both made him realise that this—Grant and family—was something he wanted.
“Are you okay?” Grant plopped down beside him. “They guys aren’t putting you off, are they? We can be overwhelming en mass, but we mean well. Truly.”
“Don’t doubt it for a moment. It’s a great setup you have here.”
