“I want that.” Duncan’s expression was solemn before he took my breath away by dropping his head to my bare shoulder. “Damn it, Ezra. I wish all I felt for you was friendship. That would be so much easier.”
He sounded so miserable that all I could do was wrap an arm around his stiff back, tug him closer.
“We could try being just friends. You could hang out here and eat the pie, watch an episode of my favorite show, and we could try to not kiss goodnight, keep our hands strictly in our laps.”
He laughed hard enough that his breath tickled my neck. “How well do you expect that to work?”
“I don’t give it the best odds.” I joined him in chuckling.
“Me either.” Duncan brushed his lips against my collarbone. “And damn it, I don’t want to be only friends.”
“Friends with benefits?” I offered, unable to keep the hope and eagerness from my voice. I simply couldn’t seem to play it cool where he was concerned.
“I can’t be public about sleeping together.” Groaning, he straightened back up. “Because you are a client. Friendship is fine, and no one’s going to really argue about you making friends with your bodyguard, but we can’t flaunt that we’re fucking.”
“Who said anything about flaunting?” I pulled him right back down to where he belonged. “I can be discreet. Friends with private benefits. It’s no one else’s business what we do away from the others. Just don’t treat me like crap after.”
“I won’t.” He kissed my neck, featherlight touch that still managed to pack an emotional wallop. “I really am sorry about today. I don’t want you feeling like crap. And I do want the being friends part.”
“Good.” We kissed then, sweeter than the pie, little flakes of crust still on our lips, chocolate taste lurking in his mouth. And with each sigh and lick and touch, it felt like we were sealing a bargain. For years, I’d been careful not to make too many promises to another person. The music came first. Always the music. But Duncan made me want to make all the promises, hand him all of myself and wait for him to do the same, promise to hold his heart safely in my hands.
And every time our lips met, it felt so right that giddy laughter kept bubbling up until it finally spilled over.
“What?”
“Nothing. Just that we’re cute.”
“Nah, you’re the cute one.” Grabbing the fork, he offered me more pie. And then we were trading more kisses and bites of pie and laughter so pure it was perilously close to giggles. Hanging out had never felt this good before. Somehow everything Duncan did managed to feel super romantic, from brushing my damp hair off my face to letting me have the last of the meringue.
“Darn.” Peering down at the empty plate, I faked disappointment. “No more pie.”
“Still hungry?” Duncan’s eyes sparked, and heat unfurled in my gut, heading straight for my cock.
“Could be.” My voice was husky as I moved the tray to the bedside table.
“Maybe I’ll have to eat something else.” Deftly, as if he’d been planning it the whole evening, Duncan slid to his knees in front of the bed before tugging me closer to the edge. Grabbing a pillow for my head, I flopped backward to get comfortable for this treat. However, despite the anticipation coursing through me, I let out a monster yawn. Too many hours awake, and the massive energy drain of the show crashed into me the second my head hit the pillow.
“Hell. I can’t promise I won’t fall asleep on you.”
“That’s okay.” He rubbed his face against my towel-covered lap before unfolding the towel like he was opening a gift. “I’ll try to keep you awake long enough to come. Think of me as a nightcap.”
“Come back up here so I can give you yours at least.” I cast my hand around like I had a chance in hell of reaching his cock at this angle.
“I’m good.” He nipped at my thigh. “Promise. Let me do this for you.”
“Okay.” Not like I was going to argue with my big muscled, personal SEAL on his knees, looking at my cock like it was a second piece of pie. And then he wrapped a strong hand around my shaft, and I was done analyzing his expression. I let my eyes drift shut as he jacked me, and when he added his tongue, tracing circles on my cockhead, I made a noise of pure bliss.
He played like that for long minutes, licking and stroking, using a firm grip and wily tongue to reduce me to thrashing on the bed, fisting the comforter to keep from reaching for his head.
“Fuck. Love you all squirmy and loud.”
“I’m not loud.” I laughed because my voice came out raspy, and maybe I had been moaning louder than I thought.