His. Thick. Thighs.
My gaze drifted to the scars on his knee. They were neater than mine, but I knew the pain behind them, and it hurt my soul to think of him suffering.
So I didn’t think of it. I refocussed on his dick, hard and waiting, and drew a shaky breath.
Gus kissed me again, and the heat between us amped up another notch. His hands were everywhere, and he threw me down on the bed. He covered me with his body and reached over me to the bedside table.
Lube and condoms hit the duvet by my head. A week ago I might’ve flinched, but as I stared at them now, my body thrummed with anticipation. With desire, and need. I wanted this.
I wanted Gus.
He jacked my dick and worked me open with his tongue while I arched my back and begged him for more. I felt like I could come from just that alone, but he was never gonna let me fly that easily. He slipped his fingers inside me, and rose up on his knees to claim my lips. Sensation overcame me. I rode his fingers, and he groaned into my mouth.
I needed to touch him.
My hand flailed around, searching. He caught it and guided me to where I needed to be.
I closed my fingers around his cock. It was thick, long, and heavy. And so fucking hard a rush of adrenaline sent more heat sluicing through my veins.
Nerves returned.
I sucked in a panicked breath.
Gus eased his fingers from me. He thrust into my hand, his dark eyes so molten he could’ve drowned me with his heated gaze. “We can just do this. It’s enough for me, Billy. It always is.”
“I know. But it’s not enough for me.”
“Say it, then. If we’re gonna do this, I need you to say it.”
He never said he needed anything. Never demanded shit from me when, despite my best intentions, I brought him nothing but hassle. This was a dude who was acting like he’d stolen a dog for me. Or for Luke, to keep his hooligan little brother out of trouble. Whatevs. It didn’t matter. The point was he’d done it for everyone except himself. He needed me to tell him I wanted him?
Fuck. How could he not know?
But if he needed me to tell him a thousand times, I was so fucking there.
I released his cock and sat up, getting up in his face until we were nose to nose. “I want you to fuck me. It scares the shit out of me cos last time I said that to someone it didn’t pan out, but I want you, Gus. I fucking need you. Don’t leave me hanging.”
Gus snorted out a laugh. “You think I could? That I could tuck myself in and walk away? Man, you have no idea how hot you are.”
“So tell me.”
“Nah. I’m gonna show you.”
There was no hiding the fact that Gus was stronger than me. He shifted me around and eased me onto my stomach with one leg raised to the side. More lube drizzled onto me, and he rubbed it in with probing fingers that made me squirm and forget that I was splayed open for him, vulnerable and waiting.
His touch was electric. I chased it and spread my legs wider.
Gus played me until I was pushing back on his fingers, desperate for more, then he pulled back. He rolled a condom on and lay over me, inserting himself perfectly between my legs.
His chest hit my back, and he kissed the nape of my neck. “I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.”
I knew that. I reached around and found his hip, guiding him down to me. The tip of his cock pressed against me, stretching me open. The sensation was unreal. I made a sound I didn’t recognise, and buried my face in a pillow.
Gus rubbed my back and continued his easing slide inside me until he was buried to the hilt.
I let out a fractured breath. Gus hooked an arm under my bent leg. It drew him in deeper, and the tension inside me gave way to a rush of pleasure that made my muscles twitch. “Oh fuck.”
Gus chuckled. “Yeah. It’s good, isn’t it?”
It was more than good. It was consuming. I felt him in every nerve and synapse, and I couldn’t see how it could ever get better than this.
As if he’d heard me, Gus moved his hips in a slow circle.
I moaned and lifted my head. “Do that shit again.”
“Yeah?” He did it again, and again, and again, until he was fucking me with deep, steady strokes. “Like this?”
“Yeah. Like that—” A strangled groan cut me off. I gripped the bed frame to save myself, but I was no match for the pleasure Gus stoked inside me. It coiled like a snake in my gut, and unfurled with every drive of his cock. Our flesh slapped together like a snowballing metronome, keeping time with the gathering storm of my heartbeat.
Any discomfort I’d started with faded. I scrambled onto my knees, legs wide, and pushed back against Gus.
He made a wild sound and gripped my shoulders. “Tell me what you want. Tell me how you want me to fuck you.”
I hung my head, my spine curving as I arched to take him deeper. “Harder. Please. Fuck me harder.”
I’d never begged for something during sex in my life. But I felt no shame as Gus hunched over me and gave me what I needed. His big body cocooned me in a bubble of sweat and pleasure. Of snatched yells and ragged groans. I jacked myself as Gus’s rhythm peaked, and orgasm rushed me.
I came with a hoarse shout and Gus surging inside me, pulsing with heat as he came too. His gravelly moan rattled my bones and settled deep in my soul, etching itself into my heart forever. If we never fucked again, I’d always remember the sounds he made. I’d hear them in my best dreams.
Or maybe my worst, if I fucked this up.
The errant thought startled me, intruding into the bliss hazing my vision. I fought a wave of anxiety that made no sense, but before it took hold, Gus was there. He eased out of me and got up to get rid of the condom.
Then he uncurled my body with gentle hands.
I rolled onto my side, and he spooned up behind me, like he did when we fell asleep together. He rubbed my shoulder and brushed my sweaty hair back from my face. “All right?”
“Think so. You?”
Gus chuckled and kissed the back of my neck again. “Just about. That was unreal. You know that, right?”
“I’ve just shot my brains out of my dick. I don’t know anything.”
More of Gus’s rich laughter reached me. I closed my eyes and let myself drift, my only regret in life that I hadn’t let him fuck me sooner.
Chapter Twenty
Gus
In the morning I woke Billy up and pulled him beneath me again. His bemusement was sexy as hell, but it didn’t take him long to figure out what I was getting at. “Again?”
I grinned, despite the sleepless night I’d spent staring at him. “If you’re down with it.”
Billy was down. I took it easy on him in case he was feeling the effects of the night before, but he didn’t need kid gloves. Whatever anxiety had plagued him until last night seemed to have gone.
After, he curled against me, panting. I rubbed his back—it had become one of my favourite things to do—and contemplated the ceiling while I waited for him to come back to me. We were sticky, sweaty, and in desperate need of a shower, but it was Sunday. I’d lie here all day if he wanted to.
Billy dozed for a while, but eventually my grumbling stomach disturbed him enough to slide off me and stomp downstairs to make breakfast. As ever, I’d lost track of what we had in the fridge, so the smell of bacon drifting up the stairs caught me off guard.
I rolled out of bed and into the shower. By the time I got downstairs, Billy had plated up bacon, fried eggs, and enough mushrooms for a small army. “Wow. When did you go shopping?”
“I didn’t. The stand next to Mia’s was the dude from the farm shop. He hates Keane and loves dogs. If I wasn’t nearly certain it was you who stole Jessie, I’d think it was him.”
“Maybe it was.”
“Fuck off, Gus.”
“Rude.”
“If you say so.” Billy slid a plate towards me. “Made you breakfast, though. So I’m forgiven, right?”
“You were never in trouble.”
“Makes a change.”
I didn’t like how his face was sitting. As if he really thought that anything that had happened yesterday was his fault. I left my breakfast where it was and rounded the counter to hug him, but before I could get my arms around him, my phone rang from where I’d abandoned it by the sink last night.
It was Luke’s ringtone.
“Answer it,” Billy said. “It might be important.”
I doubted it, unless something huge had happened in the twelve hours since I’d last spoken to Luke, but I took the call. And then wished I hadn’t as my BFF reminded me I’d agreed to go out and quote a complete re-roof on an empty property the next town over. “Remind me again why I have to do it today?”
“The owner lives in London during the week. He’s driving back tonight.”
I sighed, letting my gaze drift to Billy.
Luke chuckled. “Come on, mate. It’ll take an hour at most. You know I’d do it myself, but I promised your sister we’d catch the early ferry tomorrow, and we’ve got a bunch of stuff to sort out in the shop before we can head home and pack.”
“I know, mate. That’s why I offered to do it in the first place. I’d just forgotten why it had to be today. Will you get me some apricot croissants?”
“They’re on the list. Anything else?”
“Just the usual. Mia knows what I like. When are you back?”
“Friday. Unless you need help with work. Let me know, yeah?”
“Will do.” I ended the call, half a mind on the fact that I’d have to leave Billy for a few hours, and the other on the French goodies I’d have in my cupboard by next weekend. I was still getting used to Mia playing the role our mother had for years with her monthly trips across the Channel. Before she’d come back, I’d settled for ordering beers online, but it had never felt the same. Now it was a weird mix of nostalgia, grief, and warmth, and I never knew quite what to do with it.
Billy nudged his way into my personal space. He wrapped his arms around me and nuzzled my neck. He didn’t speak, but he didn’t have to. His lips at my neck were enough to distract me from just about anything.
Billy
Gus left me in bed and went out to quote the roofing job. I hung around for a while, hoping he wouldn’t be long, but when he didn’t reappear after two episodes of Storage Hunters, I got up in search of more food.
Downstairs, I found his phone where he’d left it after he’d spoken to Luke. It was flashing with a low battery and a bunch of missed calls. I fished his charger from the drawer and plugged it in, then I fed Grey his cheeky afternoon snack and rummaged in the fridge for something I could butcher for dinner. Maybe I’d cook breakfast again. The mushroom apocalypse from this morning had gone down well when we’d finally got round to eating it.
Unbidden, images of him lifting me onto the kitchen counter so he could swallow my dick filled my head, and what had come next, from our stumble up the stairs, to Gus throwing me down on the bed. He was a legit fucking sex god, and I’d decided that lying on my stomach, with him curved around me from behind, was my favourite thing ever. It was hard to remember what I’d ever been so scared of.
Flushing, I opened the fridge to cool myself down. There was a packet of mince at the back. I retrieved it and googled how to make spaghetti bolognaise. The recipe was close enough to the shepherd’s pie I’d fudged a few weeks ago to convince me I wouldn’t fuck it up too much.
I put the radio on and picked my way through the instructions on my phone. Chopping onions made my eyes sting like a bitch, so I was kind of relieved when Gus still didn’t come home. I didn’t fancy him finding me weeping over a saucepan. He’d seen me in worse enough states as it was—passed out on his bathroom floor, surrounded by coppers, splayed out on his bed with my—
Goddamn, you’re obsessed.
I couldn’t deny it. Gus had occupied my every thought for weeks now, but sleeping with him in every sense of the words had solidified my fascination with him and how he made me feel. Fascination? That’s what you’re calling it?
Apparently so. With the imprint of his goodbye kiss still tingling on my lips, I didn’t have the brainpower to define it as something that made more sense.
I made the meat sauce to the simmering stage, stuck it on the back ring of the stove, and wandered off. Gus’s house was pretty boring without him, and I’d learned my lesson about messing with his records, so I retreated upstairs, changed his bedsheets, and gathered our discarded clothes from the floor.
With that done, I lay on my bed and wished I was in his, with him. It kept me occupied for a good while, until the smell of singed tomatoes roused me.
Cursing, I rolled off the bed and dashed downstairs. The meat sauce had caught on the bottom of the pan, but it didn’t look done. The onions I’d hacked to pieces were still crunchy, and the mushrooms looked like I’d dug them up from someone’s grave. Dammit. I swiped at my phone to check the instructions, but the battery was dead.
Of course it was. Not even Gus’s magic dick could change the fact that I was a walking, talking calamity.
Still grumbling, I plugged my phone into the charger and took Gus’s back to the kitchen. His code was his mother’s birthday, and he’d given it to me so I could use the measuring app when he misplaced the tape—something he did approximately twelve times a day, more if he got his lunch late. I tapped it in, and a flurry of notifications popped up. Messages, missed calls, and...four Grindr DMs, all from the same person.
I dropped the phone like I’d been burned.
Changed my mind.
Picked it up.
Dropped it again.
Grindr. Shit. For all the time I’d spent fretting over how I compared to the hordes of dudes I’d imagined Gus fucking, it hadn’t occurred to me for a single second that he was still on it. Moron. Why wouldn’t he be? You only started fucking, like, six hours ago, and before that you were just some crazy person who sleepwalked into his bed.
The teeny tiny rational side of me knew there was far more to what Gus and I shared than my panicked summary, but my rational side had always been quiet.
Too quiet.
I reclaimed Gus’s phone and tapped in the code. I hadn’t been on Grindr in years, since my last attempt at living my best queer life had scared me off. The message notifications had disappeared, and the inbox was in a different place to where I remembered. To get there, I had to navigate a sea of headless torsos, and with every second that passed, the pressure in my chest expanded until I couldn’t breathe.
Don’t do it. Don’t do it. But idiot that I was, I tapped on the icon anyway, and the incoming messages called to me like a twisted lighthouse leading a ship to the rocks.
I clicked on them.
hey man
jus checking in after last night
call me soon
take care
What the actual fuck? I zeroed in on the second message, specifically on the last two words. Last night Gus had been MIA for hours, then he’d come to a house full of coppers. He’d never given a blow-by-blow of where he’d been, only the implication that he’d somehow lifted Keane’s dog from his house and spirited her away.
He’d never confirmed it, and then...well, I’d been too caught up in him to ponder the details.
But fuck if I wasn’t wondering about them now. I scanned the messages again, searching for any detail I’d missed that would let me know I was being a paranoid, possessive piece of shit, but all I saw was the stomach-churning possibility that Gus had hooked up on Grindr, then come home and fucked me too.
No. He wouldn’t do that. My gut told me it wasn’t true, and common sense that it wasn’t even possible if he really had rescued Je
ssie, but logical thought had never been my strong suit, and my gut had let me down before.
I tossed the phone without reading the hundred million other messages he had stored in his inbox, and backed away from the counter, nausea creeping up my throat with every step I took. I bashed into the shelf by the kitchen door. The ashtray Gus kept his keys in fell to the floor. It didn’t break, and the urge to pick it up and hurl it against the wall was so strong it choked me. I needed to get out before I smashed the whole place up, but before I could make my escape, the front door opened.
Gus was home.
There’d been moments in my life when I’d felt in control of myself, and most of those moments I’d spent with him, but as his footsteps approached the kitchen, a bolt came loose in my brain. The switch flipped from the Billy that Gus probably believed me to be, to who I actually was.
I grabbed his phone and whizzed it along the counter. It flew off the edge as he stepped into the kitchen and hit him square in the gut.
He caught it on the rebound, on instinct rather than reflex. “Hey—”
“Fuck off. Your Grindr messages are waiting for you. Have a nice life.”
“What?” Gus blinked as if he was half asleep, but I was already pushing past him, and I was out the door before he called my name.
Chapter Twenty-One
Gus
The front door banged hard enough to rattle the walls and bounce back from its hinges, springing wide open again. I stared at it, wondering if I was asleep in my bed, alone, and dreaming of all the bad things that could happen if I had sex with Billy and faced up to my feelings for him. Of the complications and weirdness I was nowhere near equipped to handle.
But I wasn’t asleep. I was awake, and three seconds ago I’d been so relieved to be home again with him I tripped over my own feet trying to get into my house.
Now, I was confused and so deflated I felt like crying. My head hurt too. It had come on while I’d been listening to the homeowner drone on about bi-folding doors and solar panels, and I’d driven home caught between the urge to vomit and a desperate desire to pull over and fall asleep at the wheel. It had worn off the closer I got to being home with Billy, but it still took me far too long to dash to the front door and call his name.
Unforgotten (Forgiven) Page 17