Denver breaks away from me, putting his hand next to my head so he can hover above me, and I want to pull him back down. I want to keep kissing him.
But then he says, “I want to touch you,” and I get a chance to catch my breath and think this through.
My entire body is screaming yes, but his voice is so small I can’t stand it. I don’t think it has anything to do with lack of confidence. The wariness in his tone matches the doubt in his eyes and makes me think it’s fear holding him back. He’s worried I’m going to say no or change my mind.
I need to reassure him that I don’t plan on pushing him away.
“Touch me,” I beg.
My cock throbs as I anticipate Denver’s hand on me. His hesitance is gone as he rises and lifts my shirt up to my pecs with one hand while he flicks the button on my jeans with the other. And then? His head dips as he kisses along my stomach.
A shudder rolls through me. I should be self-conscious. I should hate that he’s focusing his mouth there, but as his hot breath ghosts my skin, and his hands lower the zipper on my jeans, he glances up at me through thick lashes with a look of awe filling those hypnotic eyes, and I’m no longer body-conscious because he stares at me like I’m the most attractive person he’s ever seen.
His mouth moves up, trailing hot, wet kisses up my chest, and then it’s back on mine, his tongue pushing past my lips as he shoves his hand inside the waistband of my pants and wraps his hand around my aching cock.
Denver’s warm palm on my tight skin, his firm grip, and his callused fingers get me to the edge faster than I thought possible. It’s intense, it’s explosive, but fuck, I can’t come too fast.
Sure, I could blame no one touching my cock in a really long time—including myself—but that would be a cop-out. I’m teetering on the brink of orgasm because of the same reason I was crushed when Denver left me. There’s something between us that I’ve been blind to but not anymore.
I want to figure it out with him. I can’t go home again.
Back in Montana, I went through some dark shit. I was feeling worthless and like a failure, and if it weren’t for my mom and sister and her family, I don’t even want to contemplate the news headlines that people would’ve been reading about me. Because without their support, there was nothing stopping me from walking out into the snowy forest and never coming home.
I thought my depression was over my career, but being back here, being with Denver, it’s shown me it was so much more than that.
I lost the best friend I’ve ever had, and I never realized how much light he brought to my life until I didn’t have it anymore.
He strokes me with an expert hand, making me question if he lied when he told me he’s never been with a man. Then again, I guess it’s not any different giving a handjob than jerking off, and I perfected that when I was a teenager.
Denver’s thumb swipes over the head of my leaking cock, and every muscle in my entire body contracts. I try to thrust up into his hand, but he’s big and strong, boxing me in. I can barely move.
“More,” I say into his mouth, but it comes out all muffled. He keeps going, only now he’s grinding on top of me, using my body to get himself off.
I try to reach between us because we’re both still clothed. His pants are zipped up, mine only undone. I want to even the playing field a bit, but he shakes his head, and his mouth breaks away from mine.
“Let me do this. Let me show you how much you turn me on.”
“I want you to feel good too.”
“I’m so close to coming, any more and this will all be over way too fast. I want this to last a little while longer.” His words send a tingling sensation down my spine.
Denver takes my hand and pins it above my head and then asks me to do the same with my other one.
I let him hold me down while he keeps jerking me and rubbing his cock over my hip.
He stares down at me with this blissed-out expression that’s