“Shit. I’m sorry. I lost control. I didn’t mean to mark you. I didn’t realize what I was doing.”
“Hey.” His serious tone made my eyes dart to his. “Don’t ever apologize for taking your pleasure with me. If I didn’t like it, I would have stopped you.”
I nodded, and this time when our mouths met, it was gentle, almost tender. My goddamned eyes got misty. I needed to chill the fuck out, and I needed to do it now.
We pulled away, righted the showerhead, and cleaned up. West turned off the water and handed me a towel. We dried off in silence.
“Shit, my bag is downstairs.”
“You don’t need it right now.” He took my hand and led me to his bed, and we climbed in. “Just a short nap. We’re going to need our energy.” He pulled me close, and I smiled into his chest before letting my eyes close. Just a short nap.
Chapter Eighteen
Weston
I hadn’t expected to really fall asleep, but I had. It wasn’t that we hadn’t needed some time to recuperate, because we had, but I didn’t want to waste a second with Anson. So far the day hadn’t been what I’d thought it would be. It had been hot as fuck, and I loved having him in my home and loved having orgasms with him, but it also felt like…fuck, I didn’t know. It felt like more. I still liked talking to him. I enjoyed our conversations over the phone as much as I enjoyed spending time with him. But as much as I liked Anson, I knew it could never go anywhere. Even if I were looking for a relationship, which I wasn’t, even if Anson were out, which he wasn’t, it would never work between us. We lived in different states and had busy schedules that had us traveling all over the country. I still had a couple of years left in my term. It was hard enough for members of Congress who lived with their partners to make relationships work and last, but that wasn’t even in the realm of possibility for us, and I had absolutely no right thinking about it either. I’d never wanted more with anyone else before, so why this guy? Why now?
I looked over at the clock and saw it was nearly one in the afternoon. We’d slept longer than I’d thought. I was stuck between letting Anson continue to rest, something he clearly needed, and waking him up so we didn’t waste any more time.
He’d said he hadn’t slept the night before, and I hadn’t either. I’d been nervous, which should have been my first clue that this situation was out of the ordinary.
I continued to lie there, watching him like the stalker he had turned me into. What was it about Anson that felt so unique? Was it just because he was someone I could never really have?
He moaned, moved closer to me, nuzzled his face in my chest, and mumbled, “What time is it?”
“Quarter after one.” I kissed his forehead, eased him onto his back, lay between his legs, and let my mouth wander over him, tasting him—his lips, his cheeks, his throat, his chest. I liked kissing Anson much more than I should.
I pushed his arms over his head and held his wrists in my hands. When I straddled him, he finally opened his eyes. It would take nothing for him to get out of my grasp, but he didn’t try.
“Hi,” he said, his deep voice soft and insecure.
“Hi.” He was fucking adorable, a muscular specimen of man who got bashful around me.
I leaned down and kissed him again. It was like his mouth was a magnet, my lips unable to stay off his. I moved against him, our tongues dancing together, teasing each other’s mouths, before I trailed kisses down his chest again, then nuzzled his armpit.
“Holy fuck.” His body jerked.
“Good holy fuck or bad?”
“Different?” I kissed him there again, licked his clean skin, felt the hair against my tongue, and he let out a breathless, “Good.”
“I thought so.”
“But I really need to pee.”
I laughed, let him go, and climbed off him.
Anson went into the bathroom and left the door open. I sat on the edge of my bed, heard him piss, then the water come on as he washed his hands. I looked up when he came back into the room, cock flaccid and hanging between his legs. I couldn’t fucking wait to suck him again.
I was hard, and his gaze darted down, then back to my face again, the blatant hunger and appreciation clear in his eyes. “The way you look at me fries my good sense.”
“You have some?” he asked.
“Ha-ha. Funny man.” I stood and went to my dresser. “Let’s go have lunch. I have a growing boy on my hands.” I tugged a pair of boxer briefs out of my drawer and pulled them on. I didn’t know why I didn’t just take him back to bed. There was no doubt he would go with me, would let me have my way with him, but something held me back. I tossed a pair of sweats at him. “Go commando. A cock in gray sweatpants is a thing of beauty, especially since mine will be tight on you.”