real?” he asked. “Not just sex? Not just a temporary, casual thing?”
Guilt chewed at me again. I’d failed him, let my fear and my pride and all these responsibilities I’d put on myself get in the way of showing him how much he meant to me. But I wasn’t going to make that mistake a second time. Never again.
“Yes, for real,” I said. Then, the words just spilled out. “I love you.”
“Oh,” Heath said in a small, shocked voice. “You do?”
“Yes,” I said, and now that I’d said it, I didn’t want to stop. “I love you. You’re so good for me, to me, and—I love you.”
Heath laughed, sounding a little giddy, and kissed me again. “I love you, too.”
I wanted to hear him say those words over and over and over. But I had so much else to say, so much to apologize for, so much to explain. So I forced myself to sober a little, and said again, “We really should talk.”
Heath pulled away enough to narrow his eyes at me. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay.” He slid his hands off my shoulders and down my chest, smoothing over the muscle of my pecs. “We can. But”—he flicked his gaze up to mine—“I dare you to fuck me first.”
My grip tightened on his hips. “Not fair.”
He must have remembered what Tru had told him—how I never backed down from a dare. And I certainly wasn’t going to start now, not with Heath’s eyes half-lidded and his hips pressing against mine.
“What?” Heath teased. “Not interested?”
He slid his hands down my chest, over my waistband, and down to my cock which was already half-hard and hanging loose in my sweatpants. His touch was so shockingly confident, it sent a thrill of desire through me. It didn’t take long before I was fully hard, just from his hand gripping my cock through the fabric.
“What’s gotten into you?” I asked through gritted teeth, aroused by this newfound confidence and boldness.
His expression softened as he gazed up at me. “Just want to show you that I want you, too,” he said. “That I can ask for what I want.”
I caught his mouth in a passionate kiss. “Then ask,” I said.
Heath broke the kiss to pull his shirt over his head in a smooth motion and tossed it aside. Then he dropped to his knees. He dragged his mouth over my abs, and then right where the waistband of my sweatpants met my skin. The sensation sent sparks of heat across my skin, and I tipped my head back toward the ceiling.
He tugged my sweatpants down far enough to free my cock, sighing at the sight of it bobbing heavily between my legs like he’d waiting for it. And maybe he had been—maybe he’d missed this—missed me—just as much as I’d missed him. He gripped my cock by the base and guided it to his lips, giving the head a small, almost kittenish lick. I gasped at the contact, my hand flying to the back of his head. I didn’t push or direct him, though, just tangled my fingers gently into his hair like I was hanging on for dear life.
Which I was.
Heath sighed again, his warm breath ghosting over my skin, and then dragged his tongue along the underside from root to tip. Heat swirled inside me—I wanted so badly to fuck in between those plush lips, but Heath was running the show right now, and I was going to let him do what he wanted.
Then, finally, he opened his mouth and slipped the head of my cock inside. God, it was so warm, and wet, and his tongue flickered deliciously over me. He slid further down my length, taking as much as he could and wrapping his hand around what he couldn’t. With his free hand, he popped the button on his own jeans and stuffed his hand inside, palming his own cock, and the sight of Heath touching himself from the sheer pleasure of sucking me off made my head spin. He was so gorgeous like this, confident and sexy, taking what he wanted. It made me want to reward him.
Before I got close to the edge, though, Heath slid off my cock with an obscene, wet pop. I took a moment to rake my hands through his hair, then leaned down and captured his lips in a kiss. “God, you feel good.”
Heath smiled into the kiss, slid his hands over my hips and tugged. “Down here, please. Pants off.”