More Than Everything (Family 3)

I racked my brain trying to figure out what to say to keep him from throwing me out. It was early still for a Saturday, and I’d been looking forward to talking and laughing late into the night, to waking up with him on Sunday morning and watching him move gracefully around his kitchen, to spending more time together. He was right—I was lacking in the sensitivity department, which meant I had no idea what I could do to make those things happen.

I slumped in defeat and said, “I don’t know, Chase. I didn’t mean to piss you off, okay? I have fun with you. I didn’t just come over for a blowjob. I’ve been looking forward to hanging out with you all week.”

Saying the words made me realize they were true, which was a little scary because I’d never been much for socialization. My friendships had been acquaintances and professional contacts. My relationships had been hookups. Even the time I spent with my family was due to obligation, not desire. But it was different with Chase.

“I like you,” I whispered as I got up and walked over to him.

He turned around, pressed his back against the door, looked me over, and warily said, “You trying to get into my pants?”

“No.” I shook my head, paused, and then nodded. Whatever shortcomings I had, lying wasn’t among them. “Well, yeah.” I reached him and raised my hand to caress his cheek and pet his hair. “But that’s not why I want to stay.” I dipped my face until our eyes were at the same level and our mouths were almost touching. “I want to be with you, Chase, even if you keep your pants on.”

He made a soft whimper sound in the back of his throat, and it spurred me into action. I held on to his waist with one hand and his nape with the other and pulled him close as I slanted my mouth over his. As soon as our lips connected, he went soft and pliant in my arms. He draped his forearms over my shoulders and darted his tongue out to flick mine before sucking on it. Though I’d just shot my load, I felt my dick filling again, so I shoved my knee between his thighs and ground against him.

“Adan!” he cried out, riding my thigh.

“Right here, baby,” I said, smirking in satisfaction as I looked at his glazed eyes and swollen lips. I moved my hand and turned the locks, securing us inside. Both of us. “And just because I’ll stay even if you keep your pants on, doesn’t mean we wouldn’t have a hell of a lot more fun if you took them off.”

Chapter 12

INTRODUCTION

Charlie (“Chase”) Rhodes

I HAD a boyfriend.

Some people might describe him as prickly, but I knew his demeanor was a defensive strategy to keep anyone from getting close enough to hurt him. Six months into our relationship, Adan and I had kept up our “no serious conversations” pact. That meant he didn’t talk much about his family, but I gathered they weren’t close. And I couldn’t help but notice that though we spent every weekend together, he hadn’t ever said we needed to make an appearance at a friend’s birthday or a celebration dinner or whatever, indicating to me that after more than two years living in New York, he hadn’t made any friends. So it wasn’t hard to figure out that he held himself apart from everyone around him.

I understood that outlook. I’d had to force myself not to hide away from the world for a long time after Scott left. If it hadn’t been for my mother telling me the pain would pass, my sister calling and saying the best way to get over a man was to get under another one, and Selina dragging my ass out to interact with our friends, I could have ended up just as walled off as Adan.

So because I understood, I didn’t mind being patient while he learned to trust me and navigated his way around being in what I was sure was his first relationship. I don’t want you to think it was all a huge sacrifice for me. The reality was that I was amused by his lewd come-ons, I was in awe of his intelligence and drive, he was great in bed, and he was fun to be around.

Which brings me to the next picture in the album: me and Adan in bed. No, it’s not a sex picture. He’s helping me fly. Adan is lying on his back with his legs and arms up at ninety degree angles and his feet and hands facing the ceiling; I’m stretched out with my legs and arms straight out, my hips resting on the bottoms of his feet, and my fingers twined with his for support. He said all I needed was the cape to look like Superman. And I thought the way he made me feel was more amazing than any superpower.