I could feel the stubble on Matthew’s jawline rubbing against my chest and it was sending sparks of arousal from my nipple directly to my cock.
There were gloves on the packing case beside the bed, and sachets of lube, and my head didn’t hurt when I reached out for them.
Matthew rolled onto his back willingly and whispered,
“Yeah,” when I pressed two fingers inside him.
The bedding slid off us and he was achingly beautiful in the morning light. “Will you touch yourself?” I asked him, and he curled long fingers around his cock and began to stroke himself.
His nipple was hard in my mouth, the bar metallic against my teeth, and he moaned and squirmed on the bed as I sucked and tongued the bar.
“Fuck, Andrew, I can’t take much of this,” he moaned.
“Fuck me? Now?”
There was a condom beside the bed so I rolled it on myself quickly, and smeared lube over the latex. We were making a hell of a mess of F’s sheets.
I’d been in a screaming hurry the only time I’d fucked Matthew before, but this time I eased myself in slowly, watching his face. He tipped his head back, exposing the smooth stretch of his throat, closing his eyes. I licked a long, slow line up his neck, waiting with trembling expectation for his body to relax and accept me.
“Yes,” he whispered and I stayed where I was, buried deep inside him, watching his face.
He opened his eyes and gazed into mine.
I knew the exact moment I’d fallen in love with Kendra; we’d been sitting on the back step of her mom’s house during summer break from college. She’d been fiddling, playing Lynyrd Skynyrd covers and I’d been sketching her, trying to catch the sawing of her bow arm. I’d put down my sketchpad, entranced by the expression of joy on her face, and fallen in love with her.
It was lube that coated my fingers, not charcoal, when I fell in love with Matthew.
Moisture leaked out of one of my eyes, a drop fell down onto his chin, and he whispered, “Make love to me.”
I did, as slowly and gently as I could, giving desire as much time to build as it needed, lingering over every stroke, until Matthew closed his eyes again, overwhelmed. He wasn’t quiet, not this time, and every gasp and moan was the sweetest sound I’d ever heard, every whimper made me moan, too.
Each thrust made the bed creak alarmingly, but I didn’t care. F would forgive me this once for disturbing his morning, I was sure.
It grew warmer and the bedding slid off the bed completely, down onto the floor. Matthew was moving underneath me, lifting his hips to meet each thrust in turn, driving us both on, our cries mingling as Matthew clutched at me helplessly. I don’t know who came first, or how often, just that there came a time when my body would no longer co-operate and my cock softened, making me grab wildly for the condom as I slid out.
When I collapsed down onto the bed, hopelessly out of breath, Matthew rolled toward me, hugging me. I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him back.
“Fuck, that was amazing,” he said.
I nodded, kind of impressed he could speak.
He propped himself up on one elbow and touched my face gently, brushing hair back off my forehead, tracing a finger across my morning stubble, smiling at me a little bashfully.
“Did you mean what you said?” he asked when my breathing began to slow.
I stroked his forehead in turn, brushing sweat-damp hair back off his face. “Hmm, the past twelve hours have been pretty big on extemporaneous verbalizing for me, so there’s any number of things I might have said to you. However, I’m willing to guarantee any and all statements made under these circumstances, especially if they are statements of adoration.
I think the only exception to the guarantee would be manifestly wildly inaccurate claims about the size of my penis.”
Matthew chuckled and my heart melted a little more. “So, the bit last night when you shouted, ‘I’ve got thirteen inches and they’re all for you, baby’ wasn’t true?”
“No, that would be an exaggeration,” I said. “Though I could make a claim for the gist of the sentiment being true.”
Matthew lifted one of my hands up and examined my wrist, where the skin was a little reddened. He kissed the sore skin carefully and rubbed at some of the adhesive that was caught in my wrist hairs. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked.
I shook my head, and Matthew settled his head down on my chest. I stroked his curls, letting them wrap around my fingers.
“I’m in love with you, too,” he said.
Chapter Thirty Seven
The note from F on the kitchen counter had made me chuckle. ‘Bloody hell,’ was all it said, but it had been enough.
My shirt was rumpled, but I buttoned it up and tucked it into my trousers anyway, then put my shoes on and did them up.
Matthew appeared from the bathroom, towel wrapped around him, still damp from his shower, just as I turned my phone back on. I began to wade through the voicemail.
“You need to call Dr. Anderson, at college, to arrange your new placement,” I said when Matthew poured himself a coffee.
“I got that message, too,” he said, sitting beside me on the couch. “I’ll head over to uni from here. What are you up to today?”
“I’ve got to go back to the hospital and retrieve my car. I need to take my personal stuff out of my office, though that’s only really a carton of books.” I looked at Matthew, so perfect and desirable, still not quite believing what had happened. “I need to meet up with Kendra today, too.”
“Kendra is your ex, right?” Matthew said. “Henry’s mum?”
I nodded. “Have you got any time this afternoon? I’d like you to meet Henry.”
“Sure,” Matthew said. “What if he hates me?”
“I think that, as long as you don’t denounce online gaming, Evercrack, Half-Life, Resident Evil, or WOW, he’s going to like you.”
Matthew grinned. “I don’t think that’s going to be an issue. That’s what the long summer break is for.”
I sat at the back of the rehearsal hall, listening to the string section working their way through the same few pages of Stravinsky over and over again. I didn’t know the actual piece, despite years of living in an environment saturated with the violin. I doubted that Kendra had learnt much medicine in the time we were together either.
The whole day was washed with a euphoric glow for me, and waiting for Kendra was actually quite a soothing way to pass some time. It was a complete indulgence to not be at work. I was kind of disappointed when the director called for a break, and Kendra walked toward me, wiping her hands on her jeans.
“Hi, babe,” she said, kissing my cheek when I stood up.
“Come on, I’m dying for a smoke, and don’t you dare say a thing.”
I followed her out of the building into a courtyard lined with rubbish cans and stood away from the smoke from her cigarette. “We saw you on TV last night. Henry was wildly excited; he’s turning into a regular little socialist. What’s up?
How come you’re not at work? You can’t possibly have taken a sickie.”
“No,” I said. “I was fired yesterday, I’m unemployed.” She grimaced and took a long drag on her cigarette. “That wasn’t actually what I wanted to talk to you about. I guess Henry told you I’m seeing someone?”
Kendra nodded. “He sure did. Some young guy, I think he said.”
“It’s, um, looking pretty serious. I wanted you to know in advance that Matthew will probably be around on the weekends when I have Henry.”
Kendra’ eyes were twinkling when she smiled at me. “I’m glad for you. Unless you’ve been seeing someone without Henry knowing, you’ve been single for quite a while.”