Not that it’s really settling. I’m no match for the warmth and suction on my cock, and I come faster than I possibly ever have.
It hits all at once and then ebbs and flows until I finally melt into the hard ground beneath me.
When Saint lifts his head, he wipes his mouth. “Apparently, it doesn’t matter what I do with my dick when I have a mouth that works perfectly fine.”
“Better than fine. That was … holy fuck.”
“Add it to the list of things I’m good at.” He fucking winks at me.
Then he throws me my underwear and shirt while he tucks himself away.
“Please tell me you’re at least bad at something. Anything. Math?” I ask.
“The army paid for my degree in engineering. Sorry.”
I lift my hips and shove on my boxer briefs. “Did you suck at any school subjects at all? Give me something to hold on to and taunt you with, please.”
“I suck at making friends and getting close to people because I don’t know who I can ever truly be myself around. There’s that?”
Well, shit. “I can’t mock you about that. That would be cruel. Besides, that will all change now you work with Mike Bravo. You’ve adopted an entire family of people who will accept you for who you are. Big ego and all.”
“Wait, does that, like, make us brothers who blew each other? What kind of fantasy did you drag me into?”
I laugh. “We’re like brothers who blew each other once. And it can’t happen again.”
“Right. That was the deal. Get it out of your system, then?”
No. Nowhere close. “It’ll have to do.”
Saint understands the unspoken words. “I should …” He nods behind him to the entrance of the tent.
“Yeah. You should.”
“Well, goodnight.”
“Night.”
As he leaves, I’m not entirely sure what tomorrow will look like after that.
I’m needy and desperate for more from him, but that’s something I can’t ask for.
Chapter Twelve
Saint
It doesn’t surprise me that Iris is as cocky in bed as he is out of it, but if last night showed me anything, it’s that Iris is more than sarcasm. He made sure I was comfortable, and he didn’t push for more than what I gave him.
I thought he would have come to me when everyone else went to bed, but when I heard him rustling around in his tent, I knew it was going to have to be my move.
The way he could read my mind and make me feel good, all the while respecting my boundaries without asking questions or turning it into a big deal, it made my first experience since my injuries the best it probably could’ve been.
If all hookups were to go like that, then I think I would eventually get over the sense of ugliness under my clothes.
Iris might be the exception, not the rule, though. Who wouldn’t question the guy asking to keep his clothes on during sex?
I didn’t get much sleep after I dragged myself out of his tent because all I could think about was Iris’s naked, perfect body and his snarky mouth wrapped around my cock.
I don’t regret the act. I do regret agreeing to it only being once.
But then I think of Trav, this opportunity, and my bleak future without Mike Bravo, and I believe I can be strong and not let it happen again.
Because without this gig, I will have nothing.
The military turned its back on me when I needed it most. I can’t send a big fuck-you to the one man who gave me my future back.
At the same time, there’s another man. A man who kept me alive when I was ready to let go. A man who is deeper than the clown he acts like. I mean, he is a clown, there’s no doubt about that, but that’s not all he is.
I didn’t think I could like Iris past an obvious admiration for his ability to always be himself, but it turns out he’s a decent person to be around.
Okay, and his mouth is the most talented mouth to go anywhere near my dick, but that’s neither here nor there. It’s mostly the decent person thing.
I should’ve seen it back then, but I was too blinded by jealousy, his antics, and my need to show everyone up. To be the best.
When the sun is finally up, I dress and wander inside looking for food.
Trav keeps a stocked kitchen, and while the last few days everyone has fended for themselves, making toast, cereal, some choosing MREs voluntarily because apparently they have no taste buds, I decide to make food for everyone.
I find a waffle maker in one of the cupboards and get to work. I’m not great at cooking, but one thing months of recovery gave me was lots of time to figure out the mundane things everyone else learns in their early twenties.