Keeping Casey (Keeping Him #1) - Amy Aislin Page 0,59
he wanted to come home to at the end of a long day.
But he’d never felt this bone-deep need to be utterly consumed by him. To wrap himself around Casey, to kiss his way down his body, to hear him gasp and moan in pleasure.
Perhaps that need had always been there inside him, dormant, and now that they were finally together his libido was making itself known.
A rustle of sheets had him glancing toward his bed, where Casey was in the process of standing, clad in only his boxer briefs.
“Eth?” Rubbing one eye, he padded over and twined his arms around Ethan’s shoulders from behind. He buried his face in Ethan’s neck just like Ethan had wanted to do to him a few minutes ago. “What are you doing? Come to bed.”
Bringing an arm up, Ethan burrowed his fingers into Casey’s hair, turning his face to nuzzle him. “Mm. You’re nice and warm.” He kissed Casey’s forehead and went back to his work. “I just need to finish uploading my calculus homework.”
Casey grunted into his neck.
“Gonna stand there while I do it?”
Another grunt.
Chuckling under his breath, Ethan finished inputting his numbers and closed down the laptop, eyeing his biology textbook with resignation. Before he could reach for it, Casey pulled out his chair, rolling it out from under the desk, and plopped himself on Ethan’s lap, face-to-face.
Tension bled out of Ethan’s shoulders as Casey brought him into an embrace. He kissed the base of Casey’s throat, then dropped his forehead onto Casey’s shoulder, content to breathe in his sleep-scent.
Why did life seem so much less stressful when Casey was around?
He shivered when Casey drifted the tips of his fingers over the back of his neck, goosebumps coursing down his spine. His fingers flexed at Casey’s waist and he sagged, exhaling a long breath. Casey’s skin was chilled underneath his palms, and he ran his hands up and down Casey’s spine to warm him.
Casey moaned, pumping his hips once. “If you don’t stop that, I’m going to ravage you right here and really give Theo an excuse to kick us out.”
Chuckling, Ethan straightened to kiss the underside of his jaw. “Case?”
“Mm.”
They kept their voices low because it really would suck to be kicked out in the middle of the night.
He kissed Casey’s jaw again. “I’m sorry about what I said the other day.”
“What did you say?”
“The whole hiding from your feelings thing.”
A snorted laugh from Casey. In the light of the lamp, his eyes gleamed darkly as he rolled them. “Well. You weren’t wrong.”
“Still. I shouldn’t have said it. Or, at least, not the way I did. I’m sorry I yelled.”
“That wasn’t yelling. You’ve never yelled at me in your life.” Casey kissed his nose. “It was more of a growl. If you think that was yelling, I can’t wait to see you when you’re really mad.”
Sighing, Ethan rested his forehead against Casey’s jaw. “I wasn’t mad. I was . . . sad. Disappointed. And I guess I just . . . wanted more. For you. For me. For us.”
Casey cupped his face, drawing him away to look him in the eye. “I’m sorry I let you believe I didn’t return your feelings.”
“I understand why you did it, Casey.” Turning his head, he kissed Casey’s fingers. “You don’t have to apologize for that.”
“Well, I am. I’m sorry.”
Ethan leaned their foreheads together. “Forgiven.”
“You too.” Casey huffed out a breath. “Now that that’s done, can we go to bed? I’m wiped.”
“Yeah.”
Except they stayed sitting together for a few more minutes, until Ethan’s thighs started to cramp from Casey’s weight. He gave Casey’s butt a little pat to get him moving. Rising with a grunt, Casey helped Ethan out of his T-shirt and sweatpants, and then they crawled into bed, legs tangled, arms draped around each other, until it was impossible to tell where one began and the other left off.
Chapter Seventeen
Ethan’s phone rang as he was approaching Ansel’s Antiques on Monday afternoon. He dug it out of his pocket, tucking himself up against the shop’s display window. The sun was high in the sky, not a cloud to be seen. It was cold, though, and he flexed the gloved fingers of his free hand to get the blood flowing.
“Hey, Dad.”
“Hey!” Dad’s voice was gruff in his ear, as familiar as always. “I just got off the phone with April. Thought I’d give my son a call. Have things slowed down for you any, now that you’ve successfully passed midterms?”