he was coming back for more. He climbed over me and extended my arm to, um…what was he—oh. All right. My arm became his pillow as his head landed on my shoulder. Did he wanna cuddle? I was freaking lost. Even though I’d actually had plenty of clients who were starved for affection and wanted something like this rather than a quick release. I felt for all of them.
“I’m tired,” he murmured, brushing his fingers over my chest. “I’m so tired.”
He wasn’t talking about physical exhaustion from a long day at work. I heard it in his tone. It was something that ran way deeper, and I knew it was only a matter of seconds before I broke the rules, because that shit, that sort of pain, always tugged at me.
I wanted to say something.
I had to.
“You said I could speak if something was wrong.” The words left me in a rush, and it was a fucking relief.
Gideon stiffened next to me. “What’s wrong?”
“I’d like to hold you, unless it would make you uncomfortable.”
He didn’t answer right away, nor did he relax. He swallowed hard. His fingers had stopped drawing aimless patterns on my chest, and it was like lying next to a log. One that smelled amazing. His body was warm and solid.
He’d shaved before coming here. The way his cheek and jaw felt against my shoulder made it clear.
“Okay,” he answered eventually. There was enough wariness in his voice for me to take things slowly and be prepared for anything.
“I’ll make it comfortable for us,” I promised. I carefully drew back my arm and told him I was just going to pull the duvet over us. He said nothing in response, so I hoped that was a silent agreement.
Once I was back, I slipped my arm underneath his pillow. “Rest your head here. I’ve got you.”
With him being significantly taller than me, I shifted as high on my own pillow as I could, then scooted closer to him and snaked my free arm around his middle. His body heat and finally being under the covers made me shudder in contentment.
The man was pretty fit. Drawing my fingers up and down his back made me wanna see him. A little. His body, at least.
He shivered violently as I scratched him along his spine.
Slowly but surely, he relaxed in my embrace and snuck one leg between mine.
“It’s nice, innit?”
“Yes, but it wasn’t my plan,” he replied.
How far could I push it? Would he feel comfortable enough to tell me to pipe down if I talked too much? Or asked too much?
I decided to save the questions.
“We have time.” I pressed my lips to his hair—his soft fucking hair. Jesus Christ. “You set the pace. If you wanna rest, we’ll rest. If you want more, we’ll do more.”
He let out a long breath and nodded once. “Okay.”
Maybe I was the one who was starved for affection.
I woke up several times that night, always when Gideon was squeezing my body closer to his, and it heated me up every time. I squeezed him in return and let my hand roam his back, his arm, and down to his ass. It became our little routine; he responded in kind and touched me too. He kissed my chest and my neck, and he dared to grope my ass for about five seconds before he shifted to safer ground.
It was a bit maddening, but mostly, I just loved the warmth and sharing a bed with another man again.
“You feel good,” he whispered sleepily.
“So do you.” I stifled a yawn and pressed my lower body to his. It was a shame he’d left his boxer briefs on.
He was half hard just like I was, and hey, I was still a red-blooded male. He turned me on. I didn’t have to fake shit.
At some point during the night, he’d moved higher up so we were face-to-face, and I was tempted to ask him if I could remove the mask. But in the end, I didn’t have to, because he removed it for me. I blinked drowsily, both dreading and hoping I’d see him.
I didn’t see squat. Not even the freaking silhouette of him or the contours of his face.
It was probably for the best. Right now, he was a living, breathing fantasy. His body felt amazing next to mine, and I was seriously hooked on his voice.
“You wanna sleep some more?” I combed my fingers through his hair and scratched his scalp lightly. Judging by the hum