He cups my face, and it’s too much. This isn’t fucking. This … I don’t know what this is. I want it—crave it—but it feels like our end.
I hope he’s wrong, because if I ever meet anyone who could compare to the man inside me, I don’t want to be thinking about Noah while I’m with him. Hell, I can’t even contemplate anyone else right now when it’s like my whole world is in this room.
I adjust to his languid movements, but if he doesn’t start pounding me soon, there’s a real possibility I’m going to start crying, and no way am I doing that.
“Noah,” I croak.
“Yeah, baby? What do you need?”
“I need you to stop being a pussy and fuck me.”
Noah bursts out laughing, and I join him, although it sounds forced—even to my own ears which are pounding with my erratic heartbeat.
He either senses I need this torture to end or I’m a better liar than I think I am, because he pushes himself up onto his knees and lifts my ass to meet his harder yet still slow thrusts.
Without him on top of me, my dick stands at attention, begging to be touched, but with Noah hitting my prostate over and over again, I know if I reach for it, it’ll be all over.
I block out Noah’s mumbled words of tight and hot and amazing, and every other term of need and affection because I know I won’t hear the one thing I want. I want words of forever and stay and a need that doesn’t include anything primal.
He promised to bruise me and mark me, but I didn’t realize he meant the type of bruises that don’t heal. The pain in my ass will fade, the hickeys on my skin will disappear, but he’ll still leave his mark inside me.
I thought it impossible to have a heart full of warmth yet have that same heart shatter at the same time.
“I’m close,” Noah warns, and I snap out of my self-pity.
“Touch me,” I whisper. “Take me with you.”
Take me always. I swallow that shit down and come on a hoarse cry as soon as his fingers wrap around my cock.
When I think I’m done, Noah pulls out, rips off the condom, and comes all over my stomach. I convulse again until Noah collapses on top of me.
Sweaty and panting, we stay like this until the cum on our skin is cold and the air between us is suffocating.
“Matt … I—”
“We need to shower.” We need to not be tangled together. I try to push him off me, but he holds firm.
“I need you to tell me we’re cool.”
I nod.
“Tell me this hasn’t changed anything. We’re still friends.”
I swallow hard. “The best of.”
He didn’t say I had to tell him the truth.
When JJ—who’s suddenly fine with me calling him that and insists I do it—walks through the front door, he calls out, “Is it safe to come back yet?” He takes tentative steps, and when he turns the corner from the entrance that leads to the living room, he has one hand over his eyes and the other outstretched in front of him to prevent him from running into anything.
“Fuck me harder, Matt,” Noah says and then starts making sex noises.
JJ lets out a girl-like squeal and turns to run, but our laughs stop him. Slowly, he spins to face us with a tiny gap in between his fingers covering his eyes. When he takes in our fully clothed forms and the laptop open on my lap, he slumps. “Not cool.”
“But funny,” Noah says.
“What are you doing?” he asks me.
“We’re looking for a place in Chicago for you and Matt to live.” Noah squeezes my leg, and the affection hurts. Ever since this afternoon, he’s been more attentive and touchy-feely. It’s as if he needs reassurance, but what I need is to start distancing myself. Walking away is already too hard, and he’s making it worse.
Is he trying to kill me?
“Oh,” JJ says. “Oh.” The disappointment is clear as day on his face.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
He runs a hand through his shaggy hair. “I, umm … well, I totally just got a gig here, but no way will I be able to afford rent in New York on the salary.”
“What’s the job?” Noah asks.
“Playing in a band. They don’t get many gigs but they’re pretty good. Even played at Club Soho.”
“Club Soho?” Noah jumps off the couch. “Are you serious? They’ve discovered a shit ton of famous bands there.”
“I know. It’s the reason this band was looking for a lead singer. Their last one apparently ditched them for a record deal.”
“That’s awesome.” Noah rounds the couch and hugs my brother, and it pisses me off. When I told him about Chicago, I got a grumbly “Congratulations, or whatever.” Hell, not even that.