Somebody to Love (Tyler Jamison #1) - April Wilson Page 0,110

in front of us. Apparently, this is one of Ian’s favorite shows as he’s got a crush on a gay intern.

Ian grabs another slice of pizza and scoots back onto the sofa beside me.

After we finish eating and clean up the trash, we put a movie on. Deadpool. Ian about had a coronary when I told him I hadn’t seen it.

My attention is split between the movie and the man seated beside me. We’re sitting close enough that our arms brush, and our thighs touch. I can feel the heat of his body through our clothing. When Ian lays his hand on my thigh, I feel the connection all the way to my bones.

This is what I missed out on for so many years. I think of all the times I sat on sofas with women and watched movies just like this… I never once felt this sense of connection. My heart never pounded in anticipation that one touch might lead to another, and then to another. I simply never cared.

To be honest, I’ve given up trying to understand it. It just is. My body, my heart, my brain, they’re all wired for this. I’m done questioning it.

I lay my arm across Ian’s shoulder and draw him closer. He readily leans into me, his head ending up on my shoulder. He’s stroking my thigh, and the friction is giving me ideas. I can think of a better use for his hand.

I don’t think either one of us is really paying any attention to the movie at this point, and it’s getting late. All I can think about is going upstairs to bed. I just want to be naked in bed with this guy.

I press my lips to the top of Ian’s head. “I want to take you to bed.”

He reaches for the remote and turns the TV off. “I thought you’d never ask.”

* * *

Ian nestles against my side, his head on my shoulder, his arm across my waist. I stroke his arm, my fingertip following the path of a vein that travels down his forearm to the back of his hand. His hand slides up to my chest, and he draws lazy circles on my pecs.

I don’t think I’ll ever take this for granted. As much as I love sex with Ian, it’s the quiet moments like these that tie me to him.

He traces a circle around one of my nipples, sending a shiver down my spine. “Has there been any word from Brad?”

His tone is nonchalant, but I know he’s worried. And for good reason. A Chicago police officer beating up a man in a gay nightclub is sure to bring a lot of unwanted attention on the department.

“No, nothing yet.” I lean over and kiss his forehead. “Don’t worry about it, Ian. Turner assaulted you in the restroom at Sapphires. Chris and I both witnessed him choking you.”

“But it’s his word against ours,” Ian says. “The security guards who pulled you off him… they only saw you beating Brad. They didn’t see what came before. And the people recording in the hallway came only after you started hitting Brad.”

I roll Ian to his back and lean over him, gazing down into his face. “Don’t worry. I’ll deal with what comes.”

“But if you get in trouble because of me—”

“Brad Turner assaulted you, Ian. I did what I had to do, to protect you. I’d do it again in a heartbeat.” I kiss him, our lips clinging.

“My protector,” Ian says, smiling into our kiss.

Our kiss starts off slow and gentle and quickly morphs into something hungry. When we’re both hard and throbbing, I roll Ian to his side and press up behind him. I run my hand down his side, to his waist, and over his hip. Then my hand slides down to cup his buttock.

He shivers when he feels my finger there, between his cheeks, stroking and exploring. I stroke the silky soft skin between his opening and his balls. Ian groans and presses his face into his pillow.

When my finger returns to tease his hole, he reaches across the bed and opens the nightstand drawer to retrieve lube and a condom, both of which he passes back to me.

“What else have you Googled?” he asks, laughing.

I press my erection against his butt cheeks. “I want to take you like this. Spooning.”

He reaches back to grab my ass and press me closer to him. “Have at it.”

“Ian?”

“Hmm?”

My heart pounds at the idea of asking him this, but it’s