“Please, please fuck me,” I beg, completely without shame as I pant out the words and clutch him closer. “Oh, God, oh Johnny, I need it… I need it… I need it.”
“Anything, princess,” he grits out, one hand kneading my ass as I rock against him and the other stretching past my head, toward the nightstand, and coming back with a condom that I’d been too far gone to even think about insisting on.
Oh my God. He is perfect.
He opens it with his teeth and covers himself smoothly, and then the thick head of his cock presses into me, opening me up like a flower. I moan, letting my eyes drift shut as the sensation overwhelms me. He’s so big that the stretch is just this side of painful, but the first orgasm relaxed me so much that all I feel is bliss.
“You feel so… damn... good,” Johnny groans, pushing all the way inside me in one long, slow, relentless slide that leaves me gasping.
Overpowers me.
Fills me so completely that nothing else exists.
He kisses me hard, buried to the hilt, and then pulls back and throws one of my legs over his shoulder and tilts my hips up with his other hand and oh Lord oh my God oh yes yes yes, he starts fucking me.
Hard and fast and deep.
Just like I asked him to.
Exactly like I need him to.
And it’s so good I think it might actually kill me, that this is how I’ll go—and for once, I don’t even mind.
But then I can’t think at all. He’s got me at just the right angle to drive me crazy, every thrust hitting me just right until I’m sobbing with it. Clawing at him. Begging him.
I’m right on that edge all over again, so desperate to fly that I can’t breathe.
“Please please please.”
“Scream for me again, princess,” Johnny growls, driving that thick cock into me one last time as his fingers flick across my clit and—
“Ohhhhhhhhhhhh!”
My mouth is open, but I don’t even know if any sound comes out, I’m that lost in it. The orgasm spirals through me and explodes, a chain reaction of pleasure as I come apart into a million blissful pieces. And Johnny’s right there with me—hips stuttering against me as he thrusts into me a few more times, ramping up my pleasure even further, and then throwing his head back with a shout as he finds his release.
Every muscle in that gorgeous, hard body is rigid for a moment, and if a man can be beautiful, this one is. I’m still pulsing around his hard length, but the sharp pleasure that overwhelmed me is giving way to a lazy, lovely afterglow the likes of which I’ve never known. I run a hand over his back, down his side, skim it over his stomach, and he shudders, finally relaxing against me.
“Oh, fuck,” he groans, burying his face against the side of my neck. “Oh, man, Eden. So good.”
Too good, I almost say, but bite it back just in time.
It’s true, though. I’m not that experienced, but I’m no virgin, and this was… well, this was wow. So good that it makes me want more, even though Johnny was supposed to be nothing more than a one-time, guilt-free indulgence.
Good thing I’m leaving tomorrow.
“Thank you,” I whisper, threading my fingers through his short hair. Enjoying the moment without letting myself wish for more. “It was incredible.”
He lifts his head up and grins down at me, and something trembles in my chest.
“Incredible, huh?” he asks, the cocky tone making me giggle.
He deserves to be cocky after that… but it can’t hide the sweetness in his gaze.
“I’ll take incredible,” he says, eyes softening as he leans down and kisses me again.
And then again.
Endlessly.
Perfectly.
As if he genuinely wants to do this just as much as the other.
Until all that exhaustion finally catches up with me and I start to drift away, too tired and too well-satisfied to protest when he finally gets up to handle cleanup and tucks a blanket around me and places one more sweet, soft kiss on my forehead… and goes. And it’s a good thing that I’m so tired, because otherwise I might have been tempted to do something dumb, like ask him to stay.
To start hoping we could do it again, and that it might start to mean something if we did.
The kind of something that I know better than to add to my bucket list.
The kind of something I’ve always known I won’t have enough time for… so I’m not about to let myself start wanting now, so close to the end.
6
Matt
What I want to know is how it’s taken me this long to realize that all six of the decorative pillows I bought for the couch are stuffed with lead. I sit up for the eight hundredth time and shove them all together under where I was lying, piling them up in the dwindling hope that this time, the damn things will actually be comfortable. Of course, I’m doing it all with my left hand, which is frustrating as hell since I keep fumbling, and then, when I finally get them somewhat settled and try to relax back on them, the fucking remote is missing.
I literally just had it.
Right.
Here.
I roll a little and try to spot it, and great, there it is. Under the coffee table. Which wouldn’t be a problem if I had two working arms, but which is a problem, since it means I gotta leave the finally decent pillow setup, twist around to use my only functional arm, stretch to try and get to it while also holding the pillow stack in place with my shoulder, and then—
“Fuck,” I hiss, falling off the couch and landing on the damn cast. “Fuuuuuuuuucccckkkkkkk.”
By the time the pain backs off enough for me to unclench my jaw and open my eyes, Eden’s standing over me, looking down like she’s not quite sure whether to laugh or sigh. Me, though? I grin, because oh man, the view is nice, and suddenly all the pain-in-the-ass bullshit of my one-arm morning quits bugging me.
There are about ten thousand reasons I love Johnny, but these last few days? Top of that list is his stroke of brilliance in getting this girl to come stay with us. I know Eden’s been stressing about “overstaying” and other garbage, yapping about getting a hotel room and searching for cheap apartments online every day, but so far, my boy Johnny and I have tag-teamed her with good sense and good looks (me) and ninja take-out ordering skills (him), and we’ve managed to keep her around.
“What exactly were you trying to do here, Matt?” she asks, hands on her hips even though her lips are twitching.
“I couldn’t reach the remote,” I say, giving her my best puppy-eyed pleading look in the hopes that she’ll get off Johnny’s laptop and quit with the apartment hunting already and have some pity on me. In other words, I’m going out of my mind stuck here in the house and incapable of basic two-armed functions while Johnny’s back on shift at the firehouse, and Eden is my new favorite distraction.
She laughs, and I let her help me up even though okay, I don’t really need it. Cast or not, I still got plenty of core strength and two good legs, but hey, like I’m going to pass on the opportunity for some hands-on from her? Like I noted back at the fire, this girl pushes every single one of my buttons, and the only reason I haven’t already gotten a whole lot more hands-on with her—or at least tried to see if she’s open to that—is because I don’t want to do anything that might scare her away before I get a chance to sweep her off her feet.
Long-term thinking, baby. That’s me. In it to win it.
“Did you hurt yourself?” she asks, those soft hands flitting over me in a kind of slow torture that I can’t get enough of.
“Yes,” I say, grinning and then wiping it off my face and replacing it with a pitiful look when her head snaps up. I hold out my cast. “Ow.”
An adorable little wrinkle appears between her eyebrows, and she starts touching me a whole lot more. I mean, she’s pretty damn professional about it—the girl clearly has some training—but I’ll take what I can get, right?
“I’m going to get you some Tylenol,” she says, massaging my bare should
er above the cast and giving me all sorts of interesting ideas for more things she could rub. “And I really think you should wear the sling here at home. And ask me if you need something, okay?”
“I don’t want to bug you,” I lie, because personally, I’m totally okay with her taking care of me and my wrecked arm 24/7 if I can talk her into it.
“Oh, stop,” she says, laughing. “You and Johnny let me stay here and get in the way all weekend.” She blushes, then looks away. “I owe you a little help, don’t you think? And I promise, I’ll get out of your—”
“Eden,” I cut her off, using my good hand to lift her chin and make her look at me. “Look at what happens to me without you—” I hold up my cast and pout, “—and you got no place to go. When are you going to accept that we’re a match made in heaven?”
She blushes even more, and I see something spark in her eyes that’s got me grinning. Oh, I’ve got this. I’ve totally got this. I almost lean in and seal the deal, but then she gives a little self-conscious laugh that has me second-guessing the moment and twists away, repeating something about a painkiller for me.
I sigh, sitting back down on the couch and grabbing a pillow. I toss it up in the air and catch it with my left a few times—yeah, skills—and wonder if I’m losing my touch.
I’m pretty sure Eden’s as attracted to me as I am to her… but then again, maybe I’m misreading things? Or maybe she’s just a little torn. I mean, I’m pretty sure I’ve also caught her throwing some hot looks Johnny’s way… and guess I can’t say I blame her. Not to be weird about it, but let’s be real, there’s a reason he’s always so successful with the ladies, and while he’s a stand-up guy—the best in the world—seems pretty clear that it has just as much to do with how fucking ripped he is. Johnny’s just a good-looking guy, and that’s a fact, not me suddenly finding out I’ve got some stray gay gene that accidentally got passed down or anything.
Eden comes back in and hands me some pills and a glass of water, and I figure if she doesn’t want to mess around yet, the next best thing is getting to know her a little better, right? So I figure I’ll start with an obvious one, given that she’s homeless and staying with two total strangers.
Not that I’m complaining, but just saying, it opens up some questions, yeah?
“So where’s your family?” I ask, holding onto her hand after I take the pills from it and tugging her down next to me.
She sits readily enough, folding herself onto the seat with her knees up like she doesn’t mind settling in for a chat. She’s biting that lip I keep wanting a taste of, though, making me think I might have inadvertently hit a nerve, but before I can shift directions, she answers.
“I’ve got an aunt out in California,” she says. “She’s Navy.”
“Okay,” I say, drawing the word out when it looks like she’s just going to leave it at that.
One aunt?
That’s all I get?
“You got brothers and sisters? Parents? Come on now, I want to know all about you.” I give her a winning smile, but her breath hitches, and I lose it fast. “Hey, sorry,” I say, straightening up and feeling like an ass. “I’m just being nosy, it’s not my business.”
“No, it’s fine,” she says, not seeming to mind me holding her hand. “But no, no brothers or sisters or… or parents. Mine died when I was young, and I don’t remember much about them, to be honest. My Auntie Maria raised me.”
“Oh, shit,” I say, my ass-status confirmed. I squeeze her hand, no ulterior motive. “I’m sorry, Eden.”
She gives me a wobbly smile. “Nothing to be sorry about. You didn’t know, and Maria is wonderful. I’m so grateful she took me in.”
“Was she always Navy?” I ask, even though I suddenly want to know a bunch of other stuff, too. How did her parents die? How young was she? I don’t care how long ago it was—I can see it’s still affecting her, and that makes me want to fix it.
Which is stupid, yeah? That’s not something you can fix for someone, and sure I think she’s hot, but I’ve only known her for three days… but hey, when did I ever claim to be smart? I want what I want, and right now, I want to be the one who makes it so her smile doesn’t wobble like that.
Like I said though, I’m good with playing the long game for things that matter.
Eden’s nodding. “I was a military brat, through and through. Between all the places Maria was stationed and the homes I had to stay in while she was deployed, I was always moving.”
I shake my head. Can’t even imagine it, really.
“That must’ve been… something,” I say, feeling bad for her. Sure, I’ve hit a few other places for some long weekends. New York. Philly. A pretty fucking memorable one in New Hampshire, back in the day. Johnny and I even did spring break down in Cancun once. But me? I’m a Boston boy, through and through. No place I’d rather be when I got everything I want right here.
She must’ve heard the pity in my voice, because she laughs, shaking her head. “It wasn’t so bad. I got to see a lot, didn’t I? And it helped me cross number twenty-four off my bucket list.”
Her skin flushes pink at that, just like it has the other few times she’s mentioned that list. I know why, too. She feels guilty for me getting hurt retrieving it, but that’s crap. I still don’t fully get it, but I know it means a lot to her, and hey, I didn’t die, so broken arm or not, I’m pretty glad I did it now that it’s done.
Still, I’m an opportunist, and I want to know this girl, so I’m not above seizing this one.
“So what does a guy have to do to hear about this list?” I ask, holding up my cast and going for puppy eyes again.
“Oh, Matt,” she says, all breathless and sexy as her gorgeous blue eyes fill with guilt again. She leans in, starting to pet my arm… my shoulder… just dripping sympathy.
I bite back a smile.
“I’m so, so sorry.”
“Nah, it’s all good,” I say, since it’s true. Still, I manage a pretty slick move on the couch which ends up with my head in her lap and her hands sort of weaving through my hair and making me want to purr. “But I am curious about this list. Heard of ’em, but not sure I get it? Isn’t a bucket list all the things you want to do in life before, well, kicking the bucket?”
She nods. “I heard the idea back when I was sixteen,” she says. “And I started one right away. I just wanted to make sure I didn’t miss out on anything, does that make sense? I wrote down all the amazing things I could think of, and I guess some silly ones, too, and then I just started trying to do them.”
“So what was number twenty-four?” I ask, remembering what she’d said a minute ago. “And jeez, twenty-four? How many things you got on this list?”
“Twenty-four was visiting every state in the U.S.,” Eden tells me, grinning. “And that one has been accomplished. And how many? Well, there are a hundred. You know, ‘one hundred things to do before turning twenty-five.’”
“Oh, shit,” I say, laughing. “Ambitious much? Everyone else gets a lifetime to do a whole list and you’re trying to knock it out before twenty-five? What are you now, twenty-two? Twenty-three?”
“Twenty-four,” she says, looking away. “And it seemed smart, given…”
“Given what?” I ask, not sure what I said wrong but not liking the look I put on her face.
She doesn’t answer right away and I sit up, tipping her chin to look at me again. “Tell me, Eden.”
“Oh, it’s just… you know, my mother died before she turned twenty-five, so it just felt like a… like a momentous age to… to do things before.”
“Makes sense,” I say, pulling her in with my good arm and offering some comfort, since I can tell she’s shook up about it, even though it happened so long ago.
And man, she fits against me like she was made to be there.
Guess I’m not overly ambitious. I’ve never had a bucket list and probably never will, because I’m pretty damn happy with what I’ve already got, and all I want is to know I get to ho
ld onto it. And here’s the thing about me—when something fits? That’s it. I know what I like, and when I find it, I will do everything I can to keep it. Never gonna need to live anywhere but right here in Boston, right in this house that will hopefully someday have a family in it, and someday after that I’ll die in it. I’ll retire happy from the firehouse without ever wishing I did something else with my life.
And Eden? She fits, too. I can already tell, so yeah, gotta play the long game here.
“What about you?” she asks, still nestled against me. “Is your family here in Boston?”
I frown, but hey, I can tell she’s sort of deflecting all the talk about her late parents, and it’s a fair question, so I suck it up and start easy.
“Got Johnny, don’t I?”
She looks up at me, surprised. “You’re… family? You don’t really look alike,” she blushes, then rushes on with, “I guess I thought you guys were just friends.”
I snort, laughing. There’s no “just” for me and Johnny. And I mean, sure, he’s not family, not by blood—and if I had a bigger word, I’d use it—but he’s always been part of me for as long as I can remember, and family’s as good a word as any. Especially given the state of my real family.
“We are friends,” I say, since it’s true. “Johnny’s family sort of forgot about him, he came along so late and all, but their loss is my win, yeah?”
She looks like she might press me on that, and hey, I’ll talk about Johnny all day, no problem, but guess she decides against it, because she goes back to my situation.
“Do you have any actual brothers?” she asks. “Sisters? Parents?”
“Nah,” I say, rubbing the bridge of my nose. “I’m an only child. Got a great mom, but as soon as I was out on my own, she took off.”
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