Melting - Sean Ashcroft Page 0,72

a low groan and a slow, deliberate roll of his hips.

“Flatterer,” I laughed. “You know I’d do anything for you. No need for that.”

“Must be the truth, then,” Wes smiled against my cheek, his grip on the pillow beside us tightening as I slid my own hand up his thigh and grabbed a handful of his ass.

We fell silent again, focused on the feeling of our bodies against each other, the joy of being together after so long apart, after so much uncertainty that we’d ever make it this far.

I couldn’t get my hands on enough of him at once, fingers roaming and searching and feeling, every gasp he made music to my ears. Making Wes happy was my new favorite hobby, and I planned to spend a lot of time doing it from now on.

Gentle rocking together sped up as we both started getting close, indulgent kisses turning biting and desperate. Wes’s fingers moved to my shoulder, a bruising grip that went straight to my cock, and I slipped a hand between us, sharing a needy moan with him as my fingers curled around the velvet-soft, steel-hard length between us.

“Hayden,” Wes gasped, bed groaning under us, and my answering Wes was lost between kisses, but it didn’t matter.

We knew. We knew now what we meant to each other, and nothing would ever change that.

I swallowed Wes’s cry as he came and followed him over a heartbeat later, whole body tensing and then relaxing like I was a puppet with cut strings, too wrung-out to move even a finger.

Wes flopped onto the bed beside me with a groan, panting harshly, equally still.

“You’re ridiculously good at that,” Wes said.

“Am not,” I countered, face flushing instantly.

“Are too,” Wes said. “And, I mean, I get to make that call. You’re great in bed. Always have been.”

“Again with the flattery,” I said. “You can just ask for whatever it is you want.”

Wes sighed heavily.

A moment later, I felt his fingers sneaking into mine, and smiled.

“Just this,” he said. “Just this.”

“Like otters?” I asked.

“Like otters,” he confirmed. “Also I want you to move in here, please say yes, I’ll literally die of embarrassment if you don’t.”

I laughed, but only because the joy welling up in my chest couldn’t be contained and had to escape somehow.

“Is there a stronger yes than hell yes?” I asked, grinning up at the ceiling.

Because hell yes, I wanted to move in here. Much as I loved my dad, the one part of my plan I hadn’t been sure about was living with him until I figured something else out.

But if Wes wanted me here, then I wasn’t moving ever again.

“Fuck yes?” Wes suggested.

I gathered all the strength I had left to turn onto my side and look at him, still grinning like an idiot.

“Fuck yes, then.”

Wes grinned back at me, glowing with happiness. I wasn’t sure what I’d done to deserve him, but whatever it was, I was planning on doing it for the rest of my life.

He got as far as opening his mouth when there was a knock on the door.

Dad.

Holy shit.

He had to know how bad his timing was, right? He had to. There was no way he couldn’t realize that we’d run off after a dinner as fast as politeness allowed to tear each other’s clothes off.

“We’re having sex,” I yelled at the top of my lungs.

I’d meant to whisper it, as a joke, to Wes, but my frustration had gotten the better of me.

“Still?” Dad’s voice called back, and then a softer, “well, they are thirty years younger than you, Phil.”

Beside me, Wes snorted, and then burst into giggles, rolling over to bury his face in my shoulder as I bit my lip and blushed down to my goddamn elbows.

“It can wait,” Dad called. “Happy for you.”

Wes was still giggling against me as I strained to listen to Dad’s footsteps on the gravel path outside, until they got too quiet to hear.

“Tomorrow, we’re setting ground rules,” I said. “To stop him doing that.”

“Oh, I dunno,” Wes responded, peeking up at me, face still flushed from laughing, eyes glittering with happiness. “I’m not sure I could even get it up anymore without wondering when your dad’s gonna interrupt.”

I didn’t want to laugh at that—it wasn’t funny, it really wasn’t, I didn’t want to spend a lifetime having my sex life interrupted by my own father—but I couldn’t help it.

We dissolved into a giggling pile of limbs, clinging to each other as we laughed, still holding hands.

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