Love In Slow Motion (Love Beyond Measure #2) - E.M. Lindsey Page 0,86
His come splattered the blanket under where he collapsed, and he gasped for breath as his heart pounded against his ribs.
For a moment, he was afraid. If just the idea of Ilan brought him hurtling over the edge like this, what would it be like to finally have him? Ebbing pleasure rippled through him as he rolled over, grimacing at the cool air, and the way his come made his shirt stick to his skin. His body was still trembling as he forced himself to stand, and he shed his clothes before walking into the bathroom and running a cloth under the tap.
The cold water brought him back down, at least enough that he could get dressed without fumbling. There was a mess on the comforter though, drying sticky as he ran his fingers over it, and he contemplated throwing the damn thing out because the last humiliation he wanted to suffer was to ask Agatha to help him have the damn thing cleaned.
And then the thought had him laughing. God, how his life had changed. A year ago, he’d been consumed with work just to avoid going home. He was so tired he hadn’t considered the needs of his dick in years. The most action he saw was his unfortunate morning wood pressing against his sheets, and it was always gone before he got into the shower.
His lips met Jacqueline’s cheeks in passing kisses that meant nothing—less than nothing. The smell of her perfume had settled into something that made his stomach twist, and the sound of her heels—which once set his heart racing—left him simmering in discontent.
And now he was falling to his knees, jacking off to his son’s best friend.
There was probably a special place in hell for a man like him, but at least he’d know ecstasy and endless pleasure before he got there.
Running a hand down his face, Fredric balled the comforter up and tossed it into the far corner of his closet, then dug into his linen closet for the spare. It smelled a little stale and a little like lavender, and it wasn’t as nice as his other one, but it would do the trick.
His domesticity had become strange and alien, and yet, as he put together a quick breakfast, he realized something so small and so utterly profound: he was happy. For the first time in more years than he cared to remember, Fredric was actually happy.
Fredric managed to keep himself busy for the next two days, giving Ilan his attention in the evenings as they chatted on the phone and ate dinner—just a few miles apart that felt like a thousand. But Ilan sounded calmer without expectation or pressure, and Fredric felt like maybe for the first time in a damn long time, he was doing something right.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Ilan asked as Fredric rattled off the time for the wine and paint party.
Fredric’s fork hovered near his lips, but he didn’t take his bite. “You know I can paint, right. I mean, I’m not looking for a career change or anything, but…”
“When have I ever implied you can’t do something,” Ilan bit back, sounding a little irritated. “That isn’t what I meant. I just want to make sure it’s something you want to do.”
Setting his fork down, Fredric leaned back and sighed into the phone. “My darling…” He stopped and smiled when Ilan made a soft noise. “I want this. I know it might sound ridiculous, but I’ve been looking forward to it.”
“It’s just not…I mean. Twenty-five-year-old hipsters do these paint parties,” he said, and Fredric chuckled.
“Yes, and you and I never really got the chance to be that, did we?” He dragged his fingers along the table until they touched the stem of his wine glass, and he took a long drink. “I’m not saying we should go bashing around town trying to reclaim our dating youth, but…I want to do the silly stuff too. I want to be romantic and ridiculous. I want to take our time and get a little buzzed and kiss you goodnight at your doorstep.”
“God, you,” Ilan breathed out, then made a strangled noise. “I’m not going to survive this. I was not built for this sort of thing.”
“What sort of thing?” Fredric asked, but he had some idea.
“You give killing with kindness a whole new meaning. When you called me dear heart, I thought I was going to combust.”