Page 11 of Wanting My Husband
My life here is typically pretty boring, full of careful planning, routines, and plenty of solitude. Chad is the exact opposite.I might not know him all that well, but I’m confident no one who’s ever met Chad would describe him as boring.
It still doesn’t feel real that he’s actually here, in my run-down old house claiming he wants to move in, that he wants to be with me.
He doesn’t.
By the time Liam and Blake say their vows, Chad will have spent enough time here for the novelty to wear off and for him to realize I can’t make him happy. He’ll be ready to go back to his life in the city, and he’ll finally move on.
This is just a minor inconvenience for me in the grand scheme of things, really. No need for me to feel so disoriented by his presence here. I can continue on with my life as usual, ignore the Greek god of a man who’s waiting for me in my bed, and this time next week, I’ll be back to sleeping alone like I’m used to.
Perfect plan.
I take another calming breath and continue on with my nightly routine of showering, drying my hair, oiling and styling my beard, and brushing my teeth. And it does help. By the time I leave the bathroom, I feel slightly less untethered than I did when I entered it.
But then I actually see Chad sprawled out on my bed, and that illusion of control is shattered.
Ignoring Chad and his impressive physique is easier said than done. Especially when he’s waiting for me, stretched out on top of the blanket, and lying on his stomach in only his underwear with the most perfect bubble butt I’ve ever seen on display demanding my attention.
I remind myself he isn’twaiting for me.This isn’t a scene, and Chad isn’t someone I should be entertaining thoughts of dominating in the first place. Even if Chad is ready to have sex with a man, that man should not be me.
I don’t do feelings, or commitments, or relationships—allthings Chad is obviously seeking. I refuse to take advantage of the fact that he’s latched onto me simply because we made a drunken mistake. It will be easier for both of us when he leaves if we don’t blur the lines between us any further than we already have.
I make my way over to the bed, still staring at his ass. He shifts to look over his shoulder at me and his entire face lights up at the attention. “Were you checking me out? Do you like what you see, Hubby?”
I don’t bother to hide the fact that I roll my eyes in response as I pull back the covers, not calling him out this time for using the H-word when he’ll ignore me anyway. “Go to bed, Chad.”
“Well, I couldn’t sleep without you.”
“I’m here. Now sleep.”
He lets out a short laugh like I was joking. “So do you want to be the big spoon or the little spoon?”
I ignore that ridiculous question as I turn off the light on my nightstand and settle in on my side, facing away from him. The blanket tugs in a way that makes me think he’s also now under the covers with me. Not focusing on that.
“Does that mean little spoon? Should I shift closer to you, or do you want to back into me?”
“Jesus, Chad. No spooning. Stay on your side and pretend I’m not here.”
“You seriously don’t want to cuddle?” He sounds shocked by the idea. “I loved cuddling with you in Vegas.”
“We were drunk in Vegas,” I remind him, cursing myself for even responding, but Chad has this way of being just ridiculous enough to get a rise out of me every time.
“You weren’t drunk the first night and you let me cuddle you. If you just let me show you?—”
“See, Chad, this is the problem.” I cut him off. “You don’t actually wantme.You don’t know me, or what I like, because if you did, you’d know I hate cuddling. You just want a partner.”
“But that’s not true! I wouldn’t be asking if I believed youactually hated cuddling, John. I never want to make you unhappy. I’m asking because of how much you seemed to enjoy it last time. Don’t you remember? You were grinding your erection into my ass—oh! That reminds me, does that mean you prefer to top?”
My head is spinning from trying to follow Chad’s line of thinking, and I’m so thrown off by his question that I can’t even formulate a response.
Somehow, he decides that means I want him to continue rambling. “I know that assuming preferences isn’t cool, and Blake has explained to me that a lot of couples aren’t strict with roles for sex. So I figure we should probably talk about what you like before we do anything since I haven’t been with another man.”
I ignore the way my dick thickens at Chad confidently implying we’ll be having sex, and attempt to stamp out the possessive part of me that relishes the idea of being the first man to claim him.
Chad thinks he’s talking about having sex with his committed life-partner, I remind myself, refusing to use the label he keeps claiming we are, even in my own head. I need to stay strong. Stick to my plan and ignore what he’s offering so things are easier for us both when he realizes he doesn’t want to stay. I haven’t had any desire to be in a relationship since my last one ended, and I can’t let myself start thinking about one now.
“Go to bed, Chad.”
“Oh, come on! If you’re not going to let me snuggle, you should at least answer my question,” he begs. “I don’t think I have a preference for our first time, but Blake has made bottoming sound amazing, so I definitely want to try it for real. My fingers can only do so much, ya know?”
