While he’s gone, I cover up the tub, take care of the animals and try to ignore the creepy-crawly feeling that seems to follow every conversation involving Steve. It’s especially pronounced after tonight’s discussion. The more Michael tips his hand about what happened, the more I worry about what we’re doing. And having Ian admit to his reservations about all this isn’t helping. I’m glad he’s honest about it, of course. But going forward, knowing he’s not sure, is challenging.
Maybe I should’ve had more wine. Or less. One of the two. Fuck, I don’t know. I’m not even sure if a few puffs off a joint would be enough to unwind me tonight.
It’s nearly bedtime, so I start going through the motions. Ariel announces that Ian’s home, and I’m just finishing up brushing my teeth when he joins me in the bathroom. As soon as I see his face, my heart skips. His jaw is tight, his brow furrowed.
“You okay?” I ask as I slot my toothbrush beside the mirror.
“I’m fine.” Ian wraps his arms around my waist and kisses the side of my neck. “Listen, um, on the drive home, I did a lot of thinking. About Michael. And you.”
My stomach tightens. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. I told you guys tonight I had some reservations.”
I turn around in his embrace and meet his gaze, but don’t speak.
Ian swallows. “After everything Steve put him through…” He takes a deep breath, and the intensity in his eyes startles me as he whispers, “You have my unconditional blessing to give Michael anything he needs to put that son of a bitch behind him.”
“Are—”
“I’m absolutely sure.” He cups my cheek with an unsteady hand. “After tonight, whatever doubts I had, they’re gone.” He draws me in, and our lips brush as he murmurs, “And he’s damn lucky to have someone like you.”
“I think I’m the lucky one right now.” I kiss him softly. “I can’t imagine anyone else who’d let me do this.”
“I trust you. I know both of you.” He draws back a little, and that intensity is still there, but different now. Clearer. As if he’s…haunted. “I just can’t live with the idea of him struggling through this by himself.”
Before I can respond, Ian kisses me, and he holds me so tight, it’s almost painful.
He breaks the kiss just enough to murmur, “Anything he needs.”
“Noted.” I nudge him toward the doorway. “Tonight? Anything you need.”
“Good. Because right now, I need the same thing he does.”
His kiss ends the conversation but fills in what he left unspoken:
I need you.
Chapter Eight
On the way up to Michael’s apartment, my pulse is already pounding and my palms have been damp since I left work.
Please, please, let this go well. Michael deserves it.
I reach for the knob, but the door opens.
And I meet Michael’s gaze.
He grins. His eyes are gleaming and narrow, as if he’s been plotting and scheming.
Oh fuck. It’s going to be a good night, isn’t it?
He closes the door behind us.
I shrug off my jacket. “You’re in a good mood.”
“Yep. I am.” And just like that, he’s against me, kissing me.
My jacket falls forgotten to the floor. We stumble back into the wall, and Michael’s kissing me like he did way back when. Breathlessly, passionately, telegraphing loud and clear that he wants it and he wants it right now. But how much can he handle?
“Bedroom,” he murmurs. “I can’t wait.”
He takes my hand, and we hurry down the hall to his bedroom. As soon as we cross that threshold, he’s in my arms again. Fuck, this must be a good sign.
“T-tell me what you want to—”
“I want you to fuck me.”
I freeze. “Michael, are you—”
“Please. I want… God, I want you so bad.”
“But are—”
His kiss answers me. Still…
“Are you sure you don’t want to top me first?” I moisten my lips. “Small steps?”
“I’m sure. I’ve been thinking about this all day.” He rubs against my hand—fuck, he’s already hard as a rock.
Goose bumps prickle beneath my shirt. “Have you?”
“All day.”
“Well then.” I pull him in and kiss the side of his neck. “Who am I to deny you something you’ve been fantasizing about?”
Michael shivers. “Please.”
“Then why do you still have clothes on?”
Without missing a beat, he pulls back. His shirt is off before I can even start on mine. We strip down to nothing, and all the while, my heart’s going crazy—I had expected this to be a long process, but after just one night together and a reassuring conversation with Ian, he’s ready to move this far forward? God, yes.
We climb onto his bed, hands and mouths all over each other, and my head is spinning faster and faster. Now that I have his body against mine, I’m as impatient as he is. I could make out with him all night, stroke him and tease him and turn him inside out, but I want him now.
I kiss my way up his neck, and then sit up. “Get on your knees.”
Michael starts to turn around but stops. He closes his eyes. Breathes slowly. Deeply.
I touch his shoulder, and he flinches. Subtly but unmistakably. “Michael? You okay?”
“Yeah. Sorry.” He shakes his head. “It happens sometimes. Just spaced out for a second. I’m good.”
I raise my eyebrows. “We can slow down.”
“No! I want to keep going. I’m good.”