Heartbeat Repeating - E.M. Lindsey Page 0,31

from Avery—because it means he’d acknowledge having feelings. The fantasy allows for Alejandro to love him back, and while that means a future together, it means Avery losing his grip on everything that keeps him grounded.

Like paying bills. Like understanding the meaning of work. Like satisfaction in the small things.

So, maybe it’s better this way, he thinks as he drags his flat palm to his nipple. The ring tugs, and it sends ripples of electric current through his sternum. The right-side piercing had gone through a nerve and at first, he’d hated the sensation. It was like a thousand fire ants nipping his skin every time it was touched. But as it healed, his nipple desensitized, and the feeling turned into something else.

Now, it gets him hard.

He imagines Alejandro licking him there, biting down on it, tugging with his teeth. His eyes slip shut as he reaches behind him and fiddles with the plug, pushing it deeper. His legs spread a little, then he looks at himself.

He’s a bit sad—all by himself and a little desperate. But he’s also turned on, so when he curls his hand around his dick, his chest shudders with a groan. He turns away from the mirror, but he glances over his shoulder where he can see the base of the plug sticking out from between his cheeks.

His ass feels warm and full and stretched, and he clenches around it as his hand moves faster. He wants to be touched. The ache in him spreads, and his knees start to buckle because it’s pleasure and pain all rolled into one.

And then his phone begins to ring.

It’s normally on silent, but he’s got two emergency calls that can ring through, and this tone is Alejandro’s. His feet move before he’s really aware of it, and he’s naked and still half hard as he stumbles into the living room and picks up.

Avery is entirely unaware that his breath his heavy in his chest, nearly gasping, until he tries to speak. “He—hello?”

There’s a long pause. “What’s wrong?” Alejandro demands, sounding half-panicked.

Mortified, Avery slaps a hand over his face and collapses on the sofa, but the angle just happens to be right—or wrong, in that case—and he moans before he can stop it.

“Avery!”

It’s the hysteria that gets Avery back to his senses. “Nothing’s wrong. I was in the shower,” he says, and his voice is still trembling a little but he’s calming down. “What happened? Why are you calling me?”

“I wanted to say,” Alejandro stops, and he knows this must be paining him because he hasn’t said this many words to him altogether like that in months. “I’m sorry I offended you.”

Avery blinks, then sits up and groans again because the fucking plug is still grazing his prostate. He wants to take it out, but he doesn’t think he can without being obvious, so he lays back and spreads his legs, which doesn’t really help with Alejandro’s growling voice in his ear.

“You what now?”

“About the chocolate.” Alejandro sounds like he’s physically forcing the words out. “I’m sorry.”

Avery glances out the window to see if the stars are crashing to earth because Alejandro Santos just fucking apologized. First a thank you, and now this? “Are you dying? The words come out before he can think about them, and he hears Alejandro choke.

“Sorry, am I what?”

“Dying.” He leans in because well, what’s the point now. “You’re talking to me. You called me to apologize. I can’t think of any other reason why except you’re dying.”

“You don’t need to remind me what an absolute bastard I’ve been.” And now he sounds more like Avery thought he might—kind of irritated and huffing.

“Not what I was doing.” He turns his head and doesn’t think about his ass stretching around that silicone. “You’re just being weird, and I don’t know what to do with all this. Are you okay?”

“Yes,” he says. “No. I…I need to see you tomorrow.”

At that, he sits up and barely registers the thing shifting deeper inside him, because he knew those words were coming, but he didn’t expect them now. And it’s stupid, because he does want out. He can’t keep this up, but he just…wasn’t ready yet. “Oh. Right um. Right.”

“Avery,” Alejandro says with some caution. “Are you in distress?”

He laughs, because there’s nothing else he can do. He’s lying on his sofa naked, half-hard from an interrupted wank, with a plug in his ass, drowning in the need to be touched because his sugar daddy hasn’t touched him in