Page 60 of Switched At Birth

“You want me to top you more? Fuck your ass, lick your hole, finger your prostate, stroke your cock, make you come all over the glass? I’m your man, any fucking time you want it.”

“Shit, Ash! Yes, all of it. More now. More later. I’ll never tire of you.”

He rubs his nipples against the back of my skin, and the friction of his piercing has him whimpering. “Does that feel good against the barbells in your nipples?”

“Fuck yeah, that too. What about when I do this?”

He feathers his finger over my Prince Albert, and it takes everything I have not to jizz all over the windows.

“Are you close?” he asks.

“So fucking close.” I drop my head behind me, and he licks a trail around my Adam’s apple. “Fuck! I’m coming!” As soon as the words leave my mouth, my cum is painting the windows. And it’s a work of art, if I don’t say so myself. Anything Ash and I create together is a work of art.

* * *

He’sin the hot tub already, when I appear with a cheese and fruit tray and two glasses of Shiraz.

I climb in after setting it on the side of the hot tub. “That was something, baby.”

He pushes his body into me, and I wrap my arms around him.

“How’re your pieces coming along for your premiere?” Kate moved it up to June seventhand it’s been stressful as fuck. “Are you still mad about the new date?”

“No, I’m ahead of schedule. Have you looked at my painting at your place?”

“No. You asked me not to, and I respect your wishes. I promise.”

It’s been so fucking hard for me, but I won’t admit it to him.

“That’s my last piece. Sorry, but not sorry. Since you won’t share the original charcoal sketch of mine.”

He’s not wrong. I have a plan for it.

“Are you going to be there this time?” He’s speaking of my show, not his.

“I hate going. But I may, because it’s been a couple years, but I’ll come to yours for sure. Though I worry about taking the attention off of you.”

“I want you there.” It’s how I know I love him. It sets me out of my comfort zone.

“And I’ll be there. So, tell me what do you have in store for the great art community of Seattle?” I lean in and kiss his lips.

“It’s all watercolors, with a bright vibrant palette, larger pieces. My supplier has been out of the large paper I use. I have four of the same size asThe One.Then six ranging from 8 by 10 to 20 by 30.”

He’s shown me just one—the space needle from the view we shared when I took him to the marina our first night together.

“Oh, by the way, Liam told my mom I’m seeing you, and Helicopter Evelyn is up my ass about having you over for supper.” I’m still not ready, but I don’t know if I’ll ever be.

Our eyes meet like he’s staring straight into my soul. It’s as though he can read my mind. “But, you’re not quite sure,” he questions.

“Fuck, I sound like the worst son. My mom is great, she really is. I don’t know if I’m ready to share you with her. It has nothing to do with you, I swear.”

“Noah, I don’t take offense to it. Whenever you’re ready,I’m ready, baby.” He pulls my arms tighter around him.

“Well, mom has this picnic on Memorial Day. I know it’s still a month away but, I was thinking, she won’t be up your butt if she’s hosting. And then maybe after my show, we can go out for dinner. It will be Mom, Dad, and Liam. It’s a rare occasion she’ll eat out.”

“Just tell me when to be there, and I will. And most likely, since you’re my ride, you’ll have to come get me.”

We talk for two hours, eating all the grapes and finishing two bottles of wine between us.

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