If It Fornicates (Market Garden, #4)(40)

“I want you.” The words slipped past Nick’s lips before he could think twice. And they were true. Simple, true, profound; he wanted Spencer and no one else. Pressing against Spencer, he whispered again, “I want you,” and kissed him.

Spencer hesitated, but then wrapped his arms around Nick, and as he did, Nick swore every bit of tension in his own body—even the tension that kept him in one piece—gave way. Collapsed. He slid his hands under Spencer’s shoulders and held on, kissing him deeper, harder. They didn’t grind together like they usually did. The kiss was feverish and hungry, but not demanding from either side. Nick couldn’t get enough, but wasn’t sure he could handle any more.

He broke the kiss to catch his breath.

Spencer ran gentle, unsteady fingers through Nick’s hair. “Nick . . .”

Nick brushed his lips across Spencer’s. In his mind, he heard himself repeating what he’d said before—I want you—or murmuring a command. Get a condom. Get on your knees. Suck my cock. Let me f*ck you.

But just like before, the words came before he could think.

“I love you.”

They both stilled. Nick had barely whispered, but the words seemed to echo in the silence of the room to the backbeat of his pounding heart.

Spencer’s fingers drifted down the side of Nick’s face. “I love you, too.” He said it like it was so easy. So simple.

Nick couldn’t breathe. He was afraid to speak, because God knew what would come out this time. Some other deep, foundation-rattling truth he hadn’t yet had a chance to get his head around. Or maybe he’d just break down. Fall apart. Shatter.

So he did the only thing he could trust himself to do, and kissed Spencer again. He felt all raw inside, thrown off his game after saying those words. It had seemed right to admit it, and now that he had, it was like he’d known all along that he felt that way. Still, his heart pounded. Those words meant he couldn’t just walk away.

As if walking away worked so well when you tried it last time, mate.

The illusion of safety was gone, not unlike when he made a sub strip. It was a clear shift, and he didn’t like it, and at the same time, it had all grown too big to fit its old skin.

Whatever shape this was going to take, it had shifted somehow.

Spencer was trying to be obedient, trying not to push or rub against him while they kissed, exactly as ordered, but there was no sleeping with that huge erection, either. And while it might be fun to keep Spencer wanting, he also wanted to reward him. To say, Thank you for not leaving me hanging on my words, for responding naturally and easily to the declaration with one of his own that Nick had no reason to doubt.

He reached down between them and took Spencer’s cock, deliberately not using lube or spit to smooth his grip (now, that would have been sentimental), and began jerking him off, swallowing his groans with kisses. He was gratified that Spencer held onto him for dear life but made no move to take control. Spencer merely pushed into Nick’s hand and kissed back, all obedient strength, well-trained and hence rewarded.

“Come, Spencer,” he whispered, and when Spencer did, Nick kissed him deeply again.

Getting himself off was easy. He pushed Spencer over and spooned up to him, using some of the slick semen and Spencer’s thighs. It wasn’t elaborate, nor artful, but it got the job done and it kept him in control. Any other way, he’d just not have been able to cope with the shift between them. He rested his face against Spencer’s neck, his breath likely tickling Spencer’s skin, but at last, he found something not unlike peace.

That was, until he woke with a pounding heart at what his phone told him was four in the morning. And as much as he tried, he couldn’t fall asleep again. He turned a couple times, then noticed that Spencer was shifting beside him. He stilled and waited, then decided he could just as well get up.

He snuck out of bed, gathered what he hoped were most of his clothes by the light from his phone screen, then left the bedroom and pulled the door shut behind him. He cleaned up in the guest bathroom and got dressed. The house was dark and quiet around him, but the tiredness wouldn’t come back.

I love you.

That was the thing, wasn’t it? He ran his fingers through his hair and tried to gather even one clear thought from the muddle in his head.

The light in the hallway went on, and Nick looked up, not surprised to see Spencer in his bathrobe come into the kitchen. “You were gone,” Spencer said, matter-of-factly. Not a guilt trip, no passive-aggressiveness, just that.

Nick shrugged. “Didn’t want to wake you up.”

Spencer nodded. “What’s on your mind? If you care to tell me.”

I care. That’s the problem.

“Trying to work out what it all means. You know, for the future.”

“Which part of the future?” Spencer sat down opposite and offered his hand on the table between them.

Nick took it with both hands and squeezed it. Remembered squeezing Spencer’s hand while they’d been f*cking. Grabbing him rather than the chain.

Spencer ran his thumb along the side of Nick’s hand. “I’m sure we can . . . well, at least share some thoughts here.”

Nick shrugged. “I love you. It’s changing quite a bit in my head. In my life. I’m not . . . into doing this with other people anymore. And it’s not because I think you disapprove. I’m just not . . . hell, I could still f*ck them, but this, what we’re doing. It’s so . . .” Beautiful. Pristine. Pure. Best thing I’ve ever had.