If I was close to the edge earlier, I’m ready to explode now. Theo quickens his strokes, and I want nothing more than to succumb to his touch.
His dedicated attention to my cock has me clawing at his shoulders, grabbing on for dear life as the inevitable orgasm builds. Each caress brings me closer to something new, threatening to rip me apart brick by brick, and only Theo is the architect who can put me together again.
“Theo,” I hear myself whimper, pulling him flush against me now. “Fuck, baby. Oh, God…I’m going to cum,” I shout against his hungry mouth as the waves of pleasure finally reach their breaking point. But he knows and he’s ready. He grips my cock tight, slowing his strokes ever so slightly to time them with each pulse of my dick, bracing me when I erupt. I paint his chest with my orgasm, my legs shaking, and when I feel empty and completely turned inside out, he maneuvers me down onto the bed next to him, my trembling body tucked against his.
“You made quite the mess,” he hums, his lips pressed against my temple. My face is numb and my hands are tingling, but I’m just coherent enough to watch him swipe a finger through said mess and bring it to his lips. “Sweet.”
Unreal.
Theo Fernandez is unreal. That’s the only explanation for the explosive and otherworldly pleasure he was just able to pull from my body.
He kisses one corner of my mouth, then the other, with a tenderness to his touch that’s somehow more arousing than before. Everything blurs together in the hazy afterglow, and with his lips still possessively pressed to mine, my eyelids struggle to stay open.
I blink and he’s gone, his naked body on display as he heads into the bathroom. When I open my eyes again, he’s back, a warm washcloth in hand, gently wiping my body and his.
“Get some rest, sweet boy,” he whispers against my temple. He pulls me back into his arms and kisses the top of my head when I nuzzle up against him.
It’s clear to both of us I can’t fight my exhaustion any longer.
Just like it’s starting to become clear I can no longer fight what I’m feeling for Theo.
18
Theo
Leonardo da Vinci–Fiumicino Airport—Terminal 3, Gate E23
Rome, Italy
Our flight to London has been delayed for another two hours.
Another two hours stuck at yet another airport. Jo and Arthur are passed out a few rows ahead at our gate. They’ve clearly become quite accomplished at finding sleep whenever and wherever. Asher’s to my right, nose deep in a book. Some medical jargon–laced nonfiction about the quest for the perfect prescription.
Or something like that.
His brow is furrowed. But there is a softness to his expression. As if somehow, despite the heavy subject matter, he’s maybe found a moment of relaxation just for him.
Guys with personalities like Asher’s have historically never liked me.
The ones who can talk about climate change or politics orthe current state of their investment portfolios for hours on end. The ones who read memoirs. For fun.
I get it. I’m the one who doesn’t take life too seriously. The person you can always count on to tell the well-timed joke or laugh off any potential awkwardness. Some might even say I have golden retriever energy. I’m trying to figure out if thatreallyis a compliment.
But maybe—
Maybe it doesn’t have to be that way.
Maybe with Asher, even though our situation is not completelyreal, I could at least be. I’m starting to think Jenn was onto something when she called me out about pretending. It’s exhausting.
He fidgets in his seat, stretching out his long legs in some small attempt to get comfortable, though I know from personal experience it’s impossible in these airport chairs.
“Theo?” an unfamiliar voice suddenly calls out from behind me. There could be a dozen Theos in this airport, so I ignore it, considering everyone I know is right here and frankly, I don’t have the energy to care.
“Theo Fernandez?” Asher nudges me, a not-so-subtle request to address whoever it is who’s now very clearly trying to get my attention.
I rotate in my seat until I see him.
Dressed in his fitted pilot’s uniform stands an airline blast from the past. He’s definitely familiar with his dark features and styled hair. But I am completely blanking on his name. Micah? Matt?
