Page 39 of A Minute More

His body is tense under mine but slowly he softens and his arm reaches around to pat me softly on the back.

“I…I can’t be a hobby.”

“I was an idiot for saying that. You’re not…you’re more than that, Simon. I don’t know what you are, but I’m fucking obsessed.”

He lets out a shaky breath and then turns toward me. He’s still wearing that button-down shirt and it’s so out of place when his bottom half is completely bare. My fingers attach to the first button, and I slip it from its confines, knowing that I want him utterly naked against me. Just this once.

I want him exposed to me.

“What are you doing to me?” His question is tinged in desperation, and I can’t answer because I don’t know. I don’t fucking know. I just slowly work his shirt open and push it off his shoulders, letting myself take in his lean abdomen. My fingers run down the planes of him and his muscles flutter under my touch. I love that I can pull this response from someone so stoic and quiet. What would he be like if we fucked?

The thought is jarring and yet this time, I don’t discard it. I let it sit and simmer.

I’ve kissed him, watched him come…what’s a little fucking after all of that?

“Your touch,” Simon rasps, and I nod, my nose nuzzling his cheek, wanting to kiss him again, wanting to kiss him forever.

“Yeah, I can’t stop touching you,” I say as I drag him closer, his body now pressed against mine, my hand on his ass cheek, my lips descending onto his.

And that’s how we spend the rest of the night. Kissing, tongues tangling, our breath intermingling.

Just co-existing.

Tomorrow I’ll work out what all this means. Tomorrow we can figure this out together.

CHAPTER5

SIMON

“What have I done?” I whisper to myself as I move around the room and grab my soiled clothes.

I showed up here and let him get me off. Oh god.

Don’t do this, Simon. Don’t be stupid again.

I shake my head, feeling my eyes sting with unshed tears and those traitorous fuckers move back to the bed where Wesley is sleeping. He’s sprawled out, still clothed, his arms sprawled wide, his mouth open in a silent snore.

I don’t want to leave him, but I have to. This subtle infatuation I have with this man is unhinged. It’s not healthy, and yet I can’t stop myself from gravitating toward him.

And under him, it seems.

I run a hand through my hair and tug on my pants, my belt buckle clanks loudly and Wesley shifts on the bed but doesn’t wake.

Thank god, I don’t know how I’d leave if he turned those eyes on me.

Those beautiful, soulful eyes.

I pull on my shirt, fumbling with the buttons before deciding it’s going to take too long to do them all, so I just leave it gaping open as I sneak out of his room. It’s early, and I hope that his roommates aren’t awake.

Thankfully, I still have some luck because I sneak out unnoticed and jog to my car, slipping inside and turning the engine on. My head presses against the steering wheel, and I breathe deeply, moments from last night flashing through my head.

The way his mouth felt around my fingers, eliciting an image of him on his knees sucking my cock.

The way he kissed me almost desperately as we fell onto the bed.

The way his hips rocked into mine, the feel of his cock thrusting against me as I came.

The careful way he cleaned me up.

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