His breathing evened out, and when I lifted my cheek from his chest to look up at him, I found him staring at the ceiling.
“What are you thinking about?” I asked softly.
“He used to take us for milkshakes on Fridays,” Peter said hoarsely. “When he was done with work, he’d come home and get us in the summertime and we’d go to this hole in the wall ice-cream parlor with Dad’s favorite milkshakes. He’d always order chocolate and he refused to order anything other than chocolate for me and Mikey, too. He thought all the other flavors were a waste of money.” Peter chuckled and wiped at his eyes. “Mikey used to hate it. He always wanted vanilla. Or strawberry. But Dad wouldn’t have it. It was chocolate or it was nothing.”
I smiled and ran a finger along the collar of his shirt. “He was a man who knew what he liked.”
“He was stubborn.”
“That too.”
“There is so much I wish I’d told him.”
I sat up and left one hand on his chest. Peter closed his hand over mine and rubbed my knuckles absently. I put my other hand on his thigh. “He knew the important things, Peter. He knew you loved him. And I think he knew you missed him, too. And he also knew you would be okay without him.”
His eyes slid to me. “How do you know that?”
I shrugged and lifted his hand to kiss his knuckles. “Because I could see it in him. In the way he looked at you and the way he talked to me. He knew there was someone who would look after you when he was gone, and he knew you would look after your brother. Otherwise…” I trailed off.
“Otherwise what?”
“Otherwise, he might have fought to stay longer until he was sure you would be okay without him.”
Peter’s brow furrowed.
“I know it sounds a bit loopy,” I said, “but I truly believe that. He was proud of you. And he believed in the man you’ve become. I think he was ready. I think he was at peace.”
Peter swallowed hard. “I think you might be right.”
I leaned over him and kissed his lips. They were salty. “That doesn’t mean it’s any easier to be the ones left behind.”
Peter cupped the back of my head and kissed me deeply. When he didn’t let go, I sensed that he was desperate for something to take some of the hurt away, even if it was just for a little bit, and I knew I held that power in my hands.
I kissed him back and trailed my fingers down his side so I could run my hand up the inside of his shirt. I ran a hand over his stomach and chest and worked my way down to his belt, which I tugged open. His breath hitched in his throat when I eased my hand under his pants but over his boxers and massaged him over the thin material.
He pinched my bottom lip between his teeth.
I responded by going under his boxers and stroking him. He was hard and ready within seconds and his breathing had quickened. The grief was momentarily gone and I was more than willing to do what I could to keep it at bay for just a little longer.
I worked at taking his pants and boxers off. Once I succeeded, I slid off the bed and stripped naked for him. I left my clothes in a little pile on the floor and turned in a slow circle, letting him soak in every inch of my naked body.
Peter propped himself up on one elbow and watched.
When I went to my knees on the bed, he pulled his shirt off over his head. I climbed up the length of him and settled on his thighs so I could take his cock in my mouth and worship him with my tongue and throat. Peter groaned and ran his fingers through my hair. I teased and delighted him with my tongue until his stomach was flexed and tight and his jaw was clenched. Then I inched up higher, swung one leg over his hips, and straddled him.
I sat on his cock and took him deep inside me.
Peter frowned and closed his eyes.
I bounced on his dick and the bed creaked beneath us. He gripped my hips and thighs and held me up when my legs started to tremble.
Right when I thought I was going to make him come, he pushed me off him, rolled me