that sentence, but whatever it is, I have no doubt that I really want to. Unfortunately, some distant part of my brain reminds me of my plan to take this slowly.
“There’s no rush. This is nice.” I kiss along his jaw. “But I wouldn’t be opposed to relocating for a little more comfort.”
His fingers dance along my waist, and he nods. When he steps back, both Benny and PP stand a few feet away, staring at us.
“If I’d realized we were putting on a show, I might’ve hammed it up a bit more,” I joke.
“Benny, lie down,” Ranger says, giving him the signal to stand down for now. I drag Ranger back to the couch, leaving the dogs in the kitchen.
The movie is paused, the screen frozen with Matt Damon’s face, but we ignore it completely, tumbling onto the couch together, Ranger on top of me as our mouths crash into each other again.
Slow doesn’t have to mean boring, and I make it my mission to show him that by sucking a mark onto the base of his throat while I flick his nipple stud with my thumb. He moans, grinding his hips against me, the hard ridge of his cock aligned perfectly with mine.
We kiss and touch but keep things pretty PG-13, all our clothes remaining more or less in place. I have no idea how long we make out on the couch like horny teenagers, but when we finally break apart, my lips are sore, and my balls are aching, neither of which I’m complaining about.
As if in silent agreement, we sit up straight and continue to watch the movie. He puts his arm along the back of the couch, and I lean in close enough that to the untrained eye, we might appear to be cuddling. But casual hookups don’t cuddle, which I remind myself of throughout the rest of the movie and long after Ranger has gone home for the night, leaving me with my right hand and his name on my lips, both of which are used to exhaustion before I fall asleep.
15
Ranger
I’m getting better at this whole I-need-help thing, I think as I press on the green button on my phone and call my friend David. We haven’t talked in a while, but I know he won’t hold that against me. I texted him earlier today that I wanted to talk, and he gave me a good time to reach him.
“Ranger,” he says, his voice warm. “I’m so glad you called.”
“You don’t even know what I need from you,” I quip.
David chuckles. “Unless you’d ask for my firstborn, I’m pretty sure you couldn’t ask for a thing I wouldn’t give you.”
Did I mention David is a genuinely good guy? As a criminal defense attorney, he helped Heart get a retrial and get his sentencing reversed last year. For free, even though both Lucky and I offered to pay him.
“Dude, you don’t even have a child.”
“Like that’s ever mattered in any of the fairy tales. I’m just saying I won’t sign over the rights to my firstborn.”
Ranger laughed. “Good to know, but that’s not what I’m after. I just need your advice on something. Something personal. But let’s catch up first. How have you been?”
“Mack Stone,” David says, his tone strict, and yet I smile because I know he’s messing with me. “If you honestly think we’re gonna talk about the weather and all that crap when you drop a bomb like that, you’re sorely mistaken. You need personal advice? You shall have it. Hit me with it.”
He’s joking, but not entirely. I’ve rarely come to him for personal advice, so he’s well aware of how special this occasion is. But how do I segue into what I want to ask him? Is there a natural way to go from “How have you been?” to “By the way, I’m bi, and I have questions?”
I doubt there is, but I have to ease into this. “How’s your boyfriend?” I ask, unable to think of something better.
“My boyfriend? Which one? I think you’re about three boyfriends behind, but my latest one, Adam, is nice. He’s cute, tolerably conceited, and his ass is the stuff of wet dreams. Besides, he gives great head, but I’m sure you don’t need to hear the details.”
I close my eyes for a moment. “What if I do?” The line grows deadly silent, and I check my phone to make sure we haven’t been disconnected. “David?”
“Did you just ask me for details on