“You don’t make yours?”
I shook my head.
“I don’t know if this will work out between us… How in the hell do you climb into an unmade bed?”
I laughed at him. “Easily. I’ll show you how.” I stepped out of my shoes, went over, and tugged at his blankets, pulling them and the top sheet so they were tangled in a messy heap.
“Jesus Christ. Stop. There’s seriously something wrong with you. Are you broken?” But he tackled me to the mattress, straddled me, and held my wrists above my head. “I’m devastated, Ry. I don’t even know what to say.”
“You’re not as wild as you think you are, Doc. I’m gonna shake your world all up.”
“I don’t doubt it. And I can’t wait.”
And then we were kissing and stripping out of our clothes a few minutes after that. I ended up on top of Hutch, rutting against him, dragging my cock along his, kissing, touching, stroking until we both spilled our loads all over his stomach.
“Time for dessert,” I announced.
“You are so fucking cheesy.” Hutch laughed, his body vibrating.
I bent over, licked our cum until my tongue was coated. Hutch immediately tugged me down so we were kissing, and then we kept sharing the evidence of our pleasure until he was all cleaned up.
We didn’t go to sleep right away, just lay there talking for hours, Hutch with his arm around me, my head on his shoulder.
It was perfect.
17
Hutch
One week turned into two, then three. I hadn’t gotten tired of Ryder yet, hadn’t decided he wasn’t who I wanted, and apparently, he hadn’t either. We spent all our free time together—still at his place or mine, not wanting to be seen around Atlanta together—or at the hospital with Layla and Luke. That was basically the only place we were in public together.
There had never been a time when I’d spent so many nights in bed with the same person. Sometimes we were screwing around, others we were just…together, brushing our teeth in the bathroom and then climbing into bed as if we’d done that every night forever.
What we hadn’t done was tell our families. We’d said we would give it some time but didn’t put a limit on it. I sure as shit wasn’t pushing, because I knew things would get a whole lot harder once they found out. I wanted to enjoy this, enjoy us. I was also being a coward because I didn’t want to see the look of disappointment and disgust on the faces of my family when I told them I had feelings for my sister’s ex-husband.
It was a Saturday evening, and I was sitting on the couch, Ryder’s feet in my lap, my cat in his, when my cell rang. It was Isaac, and I knew well enough to answer, because if I didn’t, he would keep calling until he got what he wanted. “I’m giving you five minutes,” I teased, holding the phone with one hand and tracing each of Ryder’s toes, one by one, with the other. I was obsessed with touching this man any way I could.
Isaac laughed. “I see how you are. Good thing I don’t need that long—not for the call, at least. You’ve become a recluse, and that’s not like you. Get dressed. We’re going out.”
I wasn’t going to deny it because we both knew he was right. I’d spent a whole lot more time at home since I’d started talking with Ryder than I used to. “We are, are we? And who said you get to make the rules?”
Ryder watched me, a questioning look on his face.
“I did. And you know how whiny and spoiled I am, so don’t pretend you’re not going to indulge me. That’s the job of a friend. I want drinks, time with a friend, and to get laid, so unless you’re inviting me over for vodka tonics and want to have sex with me, we’re going out.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle. The thing I loved about Isaac was how used to getting his way he was. And he wasn’t one of those people who didn’t acknowledge their flaws.
“You meet me out, or I’ll be there in an hour,” Isaac added, and there was something different in his voice. An edge of pain or desperation rather than playfulness.
“I have a friend with me,” I replied, surprising myself.
Ryder shook his head and mouthed, “You can go.” But the truth was, I didn’t want to go out without him. Isaac would want to go to a gay bar anyway. Ryder and I were allowed to be social—two men who ran into each other and hung out. We were both queer, so it made sense we’d be in queer spaces.
“Bring them,” Isaac said. “Are they hot?”
I rolled my eyes, trying to ignore the unfamiliar wave of possessiveness that rolled through me. “He’s off-limits.”