Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83394 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83394 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
“Is that really a question?”
He laughed. “Come on.” He held his hand out for me, and I took it. Gage went to the kitchen first, pulled something from his bag, and put it in the fridge.
“What’s that?”
“Nothing, birthday boy.”
We went to my room, where he put his baseball bag down. His bat tumbled out, and Gage set it beside the bag and retrieved a change of clothes.
We showered together, and I kept thinking that it didn’t matter if any of my other dreams came true—as long as I had him, I had everything.
“I’m going to make you dinner—breakfast for dinner,” Gage said. “I know it’s not much, but I also know you love that shit.”
“I can help,” I told him, but he shook his head.
“No. I want to do it for you. I don’t…I don’t have much I can give you, Jojo. I want to give you this.”
God, he didn’t know. How could he not know? “You give me everything.”
This time, it was Gage’s turn to roll his eyes, but I thought he liked it just as much as I liked his sappiness earlier.
He made bacon, hash browns, and fried eggs—with the yolk hard, just how I liked it. We ate together and laughed together, and it was perfect. He was perfect. When we finished, I drank down my glass of orange juice, that small wave of nerves I felt earlier storming back in, the tide changing suddenly.
“Do you want to watch a movie?” he asked.
“No.”
Gage frowned. “What do you want to do, then?”
His hair was still slightly wet, the black strands hanging over his forehead. He was beautiful—the most beautiful boy in the world.
“Um…” I tried to build up my courage, but then reminded myself this was Gage and I didn’t need it. We were us, and there was nothing we couldn’t say to each other or do to each other. There was nothing we couldn’t accomplish together. “You?” I asked. “Well, no, I guess I was thinking you could do me?”
“Holy shit.” His eyes nearly popped out of his head, almost comically. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. I’ve been reading up on it.”
“Me too.” He bit his lip, his eyes darting away. He hated reading—trying to read. It made him feel dumb. “Well, as best as I could, at least. I wanted… Whenever it happened, I wanted it to be good for us. I didn’t even know if we’d ever do it or which way we’d do it. Some gay guys don’t…anal, I mean—oh God.” He rubbed a hand over his face, obviously embarrassed. “We don’t have to, but if you want to, I want to try.”
“I want to.” Just listening to him talk, hearing how much thought he’d put into this and the fact that he did something he hated most in the world to make sure this was good for us, shut down any remaining nerves I might have felt.
“We can use oil, I think. We’ll need something.”
“Mouse got us lube.”
“Wow. You’re on it. I can’t believe you asked Mouse.”
“I want you,” I admitted.
“I want you too.”
Suddenly we were both standing, our bodies pulled together by some force I couldn’t deny even if I’d wanted. Once we were touching, the tension I didn’t know I felt melted away, as if without him, my body was always on edge. All he had to do was touch me, hold me, and everything was right in the world.
We kissed our way to my room, bumping into walls, stumbling over each other’s feet, laugh-kissing sometimes too. I felt like I was in a movie, that scene where the couple finally gets their happily ever after.
When we got to my room, Gage kicked the door closed, out of habit. He slid his hands under my T-shirt, touching my skin, singeing it with the heat coursing through his body and into me. They traveled upward, palms splayed across my ribs, taking off my shirt with each inch they journeyed.
I lifted my arms. Gage dragged the fabric over my head and tossed it to the floor. Our foreheads pressed together as he went for my jeans, unbuttoning, unzipping, trembling fingers fumbling. “I’m scared,” he admitted.
“We don’t have to.”
“I want to. I just…don’t want to let you down.”
Didn’t he know that was impossible? “You could never let me down.”
He pressed a kiss to the tip of my nose, and it was maybe the sweetest thing that had ever happened to me. Then he nodded and finished working my jeans open. He knelt as he pushed them down. My erection sprang free. In the beginning, I was embarrassed to be naked in front of him, but I wasn’t anymore.
Once he had my clothes off, I said, “My turn.” I did the same with him, hands on his stomach, his ribs, caressing, dropping his shirt away. My fingers didn’t shake when I opened his jeans, when I pulled them and his briefs down and saw his cock, long and hard—for me.