want to touch you.”
Alex’s chuckle reverberated through both of them, and Alex reached out to do something on top of the bed stand.
Simon opened one eye. “Is that… a basic clock?”
“Yeah.” Alex yawned again. “Mechanical clocks go off if we set an alarm. Our phones and computers don’t—not for the last two weeks. Something about time.”
“When are we getting up again?” Simon asked, hating the thought. He was exhausted.
“I’m getting up ten minutes before sunrise so we can perform the ritual and Lachlan can go get his stock for the craft fair. You’re staying in bed and keeping it warm so I can come back and sleep.”
“Mm.” Simon’s eyes closed again, all by themselves, until a random but very important thought had them shooting open.
“So after you come back and we sleep some more, are we going to be alone?”
“Yes?”
“In your bedroom, in this house, just us?”
This time Alex sounded a little anxious—and a little amused. “Yes.”
“Mm.” Simon pulled him closer, enjoying his heat, enjoying the feeling of smooth skin over a tight belly as Simon insinuated his hand under Alex’s sleep shirt. “Good.”
Alex’s hand covered his, and Alex laced their fingers together. “Good,” he murmured, and then there was just the warmth and safety of the two of them in the darkness, and sleep.
The alarm went off at ungodly a.m., and Alex got up, pulled a sweatshirt and slippers on, and disappeared. He was back ten minutes later, breathless and chilled, but that didn’t stop Simon from waking up enough to command him to take his clothes off.
“No,” Alex mumbled, throwing his hooded sweatshirt on top of Simon’s jeans. “I’m not doing a strip show.” An adorable flush covered his cheeks, and Simon half chuckled.
“Here, look. I’m closing my eyes. It’s a shame because the view’s probably terrific, but….” And Simon allowed himself to be honest. “I want to touch your skin. Is that okay?”
“Fine,” Alex said, sounding put out.
“Your enthusiasm alone is beyond price.”
Alex snorted, and Simon felt like the sarcasm had been well played. “You do realize this is probably going to end like my other relationships, right?”
“Oh?” Simon was staying true to his word and squeezing his eyes shut tight. “How did they end?”
“When I laughed,” Alex mumbled, probably taking off his T-shirt. “We got all serious and gazed into each other’s eyes, and they touched me and I laughed.” More movement, and then the covers were pulled back and the bed depressed. Alex’s solid, coiled-spring body snugged up against Simon’s, and Simon rolled over and pulled him closer.
“Can I open my eyes now?” he asked.
“Yes. Nothing to see—oh. Oh my!”
Simon chuffed a breath in his ear, trying not to laugh himself. “Oh my?” he murmured, repeating the sweep of his palm against Alex’s chest. Mm… oh! Little nipples in the palm of his hand.
“Just… oh!”
Simon had swept his hand lower, was palming Alex’s concave tummy. “Is that funny?” he asked solicitously. “Because if it’s funny, I can stop.”
“No!” Alex squeaked. “It wasn’t funny then, either. I just… oh!”
More caresses—this one starting by framing Alex’s throat, then running down the length of his torso, and stopping at the waistband of his briefs. Alex started to shift, his shoulders and ass rubbing against Simon’s front sensuously.
“Mm.” Simon licked the shell of his ear, then moved lower, taking the lobe between his lips and sucking. He swept his fingers under the elastic band of the boxer briefs and then moved his hand up again to knead one slight, well-defined pectoral.
“Then why did you laugh?” Simon purred.
“I just did—ah!” Alex practically jumped when Simon pinched a nipple. “It was hard, uhm, difficult to take things seriously when—oh God! Simon!”
He practically whimpered, but, Simon gloated, he wasn’t laughing.
“Go ahead and laugh,” he taunted. “It’s okay. My ego can take it.” He moved his hand to Alex’s other nipple and thrust his groin up against Alex’s backside.
“I don’t get swept away—ah!”
Simon pinched his nipple again, and again and again, and Alex rocked his hips. Simon ground up against him again and Alex pulled in a breath that sounded like a sob, thumping the mattress in front of him with his free hand.
“I don’t know what to do next!” he admitted. “I’m… I mean, I know what should happen next but—oh God, Simon!” he cried out, when Simon went after the first nipple.
Simon moved his mouth to Alex’s neck. “Just lie there,” Simon suggested, delighted with a warm, willing, wiggling Alex in his arms. “I’ll take care of it this time. Don’t