Page 70 of Daily Grind
“No.” Brian propped himself up and pulled out of Rob. “I’m a hopeless romantic.”
“Good.” He tugged at Brian’s hair.
“What’s good? The romantic part or the hopeless part?”
That made Rob chuckle. He kissed those sweet lips. “The romantic part. You’re far from hopeless.”
Brian snorted. “Just wait, you’ll see.” He levered himself up. “I’ll be right back.”
Rob relaxed into the pillows, the afterglow warm and fuzzy on the edge of his senses. He should get up and clean himself off, but the bed was warm and soft and his body hummed. He closed his eyes.
The mattress rocked. “Falling asleep on me?” Something warm and wet touched his chest.
Rob cracked open an eye. “No.”
Brian leaned over him, wiping away semen with a wet flannel. “Liar.” Light laughter in that word.
He shrugged. “Maybe a little. It’s been a long week.” He held out his hand. Brian handed him the cloth and Rob wiped off his hands.
“It’s only Wednesday.” Brian trailed his fingers over his thighs.
“Don’t remind me.”
When Rob handed the flannel back, Brian pitched it into a laundry basket on the other side of the room. Perfect shot.
They slid under the covers together. “Trouble at work?” Brian caressed Rob’s forehead and pushed back his hair.
“No. Customer visits. Lots of meetings. Always being on.” Rob ran his hand over Brian’s shoulder. “What do you do to get arms like this?”
A huff of laughter. “You like built guys? Thought I was a twink.”
“You are a twink and big-muscle guys don’t do anything for me, but this—” He rolled fingers over Brian’s bicep and Brian flexed. “This makes me want to devour you whole.” He kissed Brian’s shoulder. “I like arms.”
“Pushups and pull-ups,” he said. “I sometimes bike over to Frick Park. They have one of those fitness trails.”
“Don’t stop on my account,” Rob murmured against his skin.
Brian pulled him closer. “I won’t.” He pressed lips to Rob’s neck. “I like the sound of you devouring me whole.”
“Mmm. My lovely vanilla Americano.” Everything was so fucking perfect. Brian’s arms around him. The afterglow of sex. How relaxed they both were. Every night should be like this.
“With room for cream.”
“And love,” Rob said.
“That too.” Brian kissed him. “Lots of love.”
It was about damn time. Love was a fragile, wonderful thing. Rob pressed his forehead to Brian’s shoulder and prayed his heart wouldn’t shatter again.
Chapter Fourteen
The next coupleof days at Grounds N’at went by smoother and faster than they had in months. So far so good with the new baristas Brian had hired. Training was going well. A steady flow of customers came and bought drinks, cookies, and brownies. Pastries were delivered on time. The books were balanced and, though the numbers were very tight, he was in the black. Sam and his crew filtered in and out with regularity.
Brian kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. Sure, he was still working ridiculous hours and was exhausted all the time, but it couldn’t bethiseasy, could it?
In a fit of desperation or need for somethingdifferentin his caffeine routine, Brian switched from shots of espresso to Americanos with a pump of vanilla. No cream though. Not yet.
God, how he wanted Rob. His presence. His laughter. Everything. He’d had this kind of high with Anita, except with Rob it felt deeper. Needier. More urgent. He didn’t know why.
