no such inclinations.
"You're definitely going to need to teach me how to do that," Gideon said against my mouth.
"I think if you can do that to yourself, it kind of makes me unnecessary," I responded without really thinking about my words. When I realized how now might not be the best time to be making a joke, I wished there was some way to call the words back.
But Gideon surprised me yet again by lifting me enough that he could toss me onto my back on the bed. As his weight came down on top of me and his mouth covered mine, he breathed, "Brat," before kissing me hard. The idea that I could joke around with him eased some of the pressure in my chest. In the past, I hadn't always said the right things in bed and whoever I'd been with, Grady especially, had made their displeasure clear. I'd gotten so nervous about saying the wrong thing that I'd stopped speaking at all during sexual encounters. But I sensed that it wouldn't be a problem with Gideon.
When Gideon next broke the kiss, I could feel his eyes on me. "You're incredible," he said simply. With any other guy, it would have sounded like empty flattery, but when Gideon said it, I felt it everywhere. I knew in my bones that he meant it and I wanted so badly to believe that he wasn't just talking about my skills when it came to oral sex.
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him that I loved him, but then I remembered that we weren't there. That it was a place we’d probably never be able to get to. Everything that was happening was merely a result of the Fisher Cove bubble effect.
"You make it easy to be," I ended up responding. It was the truth. When I was with Gideon, I didn't find myself questioning how to please him. He was so genuine in his reactions that I didn't have to worry about whether he was faking it or not like Grady apparently had been for our entire relationship.
Since I'd made Gideon come, I’d just assumed our lovemaking session was over, so I was surprised when he began pressing kisses against my throat and then over my collarbone. "Gideon, you don't have to…"
Gideon paused and I instantly got nervous. The whole talking when I shouldn't thing came back into play and I wished I’d just kept my mouth shut. But at the same time, it would've killed me to have Gideon reciprocate out of sheer obligation.
"Don't have to what?" Gideon asked. His voice held that familiar tone like he already knew the answer to his own question.
"Nothing," I mumbled. "Sorry."
The longer Gideon didn't speak or move, the more nervous I got. And the more nervous I got, the more I felt the need to flee. I was in the process of trying to discreetly shift my body out from underneath his when he said, "Lex—"
That was all it took to set me off. Just him saying my name a certain way. I wasn't even upset with him; I was mad at myself. Mad for screwing up something that had otherwise been so perfect.
"You don't have to get me off, Gideon," I bit out. "I know it's your first time with a guy, but it's different."
"Different how?" Gideon asked. I tried to move again to get out from underneath him, but he used his heavier weight to hold me down.
"For guys it's just about the getting off. Usually I take care of myself at the same time that I'm…" I could feel the heat in my cheeks building as I struggled to find the right words. But there were none.
"You take care of yourself?"
"Yes!" I said in exasperation. Why wasn't he getting it?
"When they're done, guys are just done. Tops don't always—"
"Tops?" Gideon interjected.
"The guys doing the fucking," I explained. For once, I was glad I couldn't see the expression on his face. Not only was I having to give him an impromptu how-to-be-gay lesson, I was doing a piss-poor job of it.
"When a top comes, it's…" I sighed and said, "Can we just forget the whole thing? Let me up, please."
But since Gideon was Gideon, he didn't move. "So what you're telling me is that if the guy who is fucking you comes first, your pleasure isn’t really important?"
I sighed. "No… Well, yes, I guess. But it's not really like that. It's just that…"
"It's just what?" Gideon