Page 92 of Still Bruised
He’d feared having to teach the newly out man everything, but Foster seemed to be the one educating him.
Demands didn’t need to be made when with the right man.
The right man?
Foster was all wrong for Jude.
They both knew it yet couldn’t seem to walk away.
When had their relationship shifted over the weeks? What had been the moment they’d been too lost to what was happening to stop the momentum? It was no longer just sex, no matter how much Jude wanted to believe it still was. Their bodies fit together in near perfect harmony.
Could they find that same harmony in their lives?
He gasped for breath as Foster rolled over and moved Jude under. That same delicious friction surged against his prostate, the angle just right. Their bodies came together over and over, the sweaty sound of their clashes echoing around the bedroom. Foster grabbed his wrists and wrenched them over his head in one strong hand.
Just like he’d done in the locker room when they’d first kissed.
Their mouths slammed together, finishing what they’d started long ago.
Jude bent his knees, lifting his bottom higher. That shifted the angle perfectly. His body shuddered, a wave starting at his neck and racing to his feet. Toes curling, his balls tightened to his body. Foster’s fingertips dug into his hips. Another mind-destroying orgasm hit seconds before Foster bellowed, his neck arching as he came, flooding Jude’s ass.
After they collapsed amid a tangle of sweaty limbs, Jude stared up at Foster. They’d never fucked in the light of day, so he took stock. Instead of shadows, he could see the aftermath of them together. He rather liked the red flush of Foster’s pleased, just-been-fucked face.
“Why did I do that?” Jude muttered. “Now I want to nap instead of going into work.”
“When was your last day off?”
Jude scoffed. “We’re closed on Sundays.”
Foster scoffed. “That’s your only day off?”
“It’s enough.”
“You work too hard,” Foster growled.
“Probably. Take it up with my boss.”
“Stay,” Foster tempted. “Take a day off and spend it in bed with me.”
Jude groaning inwardly. It was cruel punishment. “I wish I could, but I can’t.”
“Half a day? You can stay with me until lunch,” Foster said, gathering Jude’s hand in his.
Jude almost agreed—but stood firm.
Foster threaded his fingers through Jude’s. “There was something I didn’t tell you last night.”
Jude tensed.
“I almost called to invite you out to dinner.”
Jude didn’t know what to say to that. Foster searched his face, as if looking for clues to what he should’ve done. Jude refused to give any up. Foster didn’t need any more power over him.
“Ultimately, I decided against it. I assumed you wouldn’t have wanted me to ask.”
Jude didn’t say a word.
“Just so you know, I wanted you there. The night felt… incomplete.”
