By the time I’m fully seated inside of him, my pulse is racing so fast, the blood in my veins burning up. He’s so hot and tight and soft, and fuck, I can’t even think straight. Thankfully, he gives me a minute, so I don’t do something embarrassing like bust in fifteen seconds flat, but when he does start moving—grinding on my lap, rolling his hips, setting the perfect type of pace—my eyes roll back. He feels so damn good.
“So perfect,” I growl. “It’s unreal how amazing you feel, baby. How amazing you look taking all of me.”
Segan whimpers, taking his bottom lip between his teeth as he peers up at me from beneath his lashes.
“You okay?” I manage to ask.
“Yeah.” He moans the word. “Doesn’t hurt so much anymore. Feels, ungh… Feels so fucking good, Josie.So good.”
I lift my hips off the bed as he continues to grind in my lap, and the change in position must hit that spot inside of him because he lets out a long, low groan that has my nuts tingling. His head hangs, the blunt tips of his fingernails digging into my chest as he rides me, gaining as much pleasure as he’s taking.
Segan’s body tenses before it starts to shake as he pants out my name, moaning and crying out. His dick, despite having just came, leaks, the sight and sound and feel of him pushing me over the edge.
“Oh,fuck, I’m gonna come,” I warn, my hands on his hips holding him in place as I start to fuck into him from the bottom. His eyes find mine, so hooded, they can hardly stay open. “Fuck, Segan… fuck…”
I throw my head back, gritting down on my molars as my cock erupts, spilling into the condom, my release taking hold of me, violently rocking me as I cry out, not giving a damn about the neighbors possibly hearing.
Segan leans down, his hair tickling my face, as he fuses his mouth to mine. He kisses me slow and gentle, licking into my mouth, and sucking on my bottom lip. When he pulls away, he rests his sweaty forehead against mine, both of us working to catch our breaths. “I love you,” he declares so quietly, I’m sure I misheard him.
My heart hammers in my chest.
Thump… thump… thump.
“Wh-what?”
“I love you so damn much, Josiah, and I think I always have. It’s always…alwaysbeen you. Since I was sixteen years old, and could even recognize I was into guys. It’s you. God, it’s you.”
My throat clogs, eyes burning, the sensation only heightening when I feel a hot tear fall onto my cheek, realizing it’s coming from Segan. Wrapping my arms around him, I hold on to him tight, breathing him in as I let this moment sear into me. Everything about it… the sex, the vulnerability, the confession, the emotions. All of it. I never want to forget a single second of this moment. It’s too important.
“Say something,” he murmurs, which makes me chuckle.
“I’m sorry. You short-circuited my brain for a minute. Fuck, I love you too, Segan. So fucking much, it hurts.”
“You do?” I want to wrap him up and never let him go with the insecurity and doubt in his voice.
“There’s never been anybody for me like you. I got you, baby. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”
Our lips clash again, and I couldn’t even say how long we sit there like that, making out like we have all the time in the world. We kiss until we’re good and breathless, and then we kiss some more.
43
SEGAN
The sunlight pours in through the ugly red drapes, dousing the room in a soft morning glow. I’m lying on my side, both of my hands tucked under my cheek on the pillow while I watch Josiah sleep. His breathing is steady, and every so often, his eyelids flutter like he’s in the middle of a dream.
I wonder if he’s dreaming about me.
We head home today and have to leave for the airport in a few hours. I’ll be glad to leave this town behind. I don’t regret coming here, because I do think Josiah was right; if I hadn’t come, I would’ve kicked myself in the ass for it later. It’s not that I expected some warm welcome or anything, but the look on my father’s face is burned into my memory. Even with my mom’s limited time left, he couldn’t hold it together and be a decent guy.
I know it says so much more about him and his character than it does me, but… I don’t know. It still hurts. Even if I wish it didn’t.
Sometimes—usually late at night when I’m all alone and feeling extra lonely—I find myself wishing I grew up with a more loving set of parents. I wish I didn’t feel the need to flee from my hometown in order to survive, because there’s no doubt in my mind that, had I stayed, I would’ve attempted again, and the next time, I would’ve made sure to be successful.
I’m no expert, but I feel like every person who comes from a broken home, or a less than stellar one, wishes they had what everyone else had. Like, it would be nice to get to call them when something great happens, like my album going platinum, and get to share the news with them. Have them be proud of me. Be excited with me.
But then I remember that, while I may not have great—or even good—parents, I stilldohave a family I get to share all the awesome stuff with, and I do have a family I can lean on during the not so awesome times. It may not be a family in the traditional sense, but I do have one. I have Voss and Wade, and Chesney, Tucker… and now I have Josiah… again. And honestly, they’re better than any other family I could ask for because I know they’re there because they want to be. They love me unconditionally. They enjoy seeing me happy. They push me to be better. And vice versa.
So, while my family may be a little unconventional, it’s a family all the same.
