Page 43 of Hurricane Love

Eventually, they both had to break away and tend to their own needs. Diego’s thighs and ass were streaked with drying cum, which Wylie noticed and commented on. “A work of art,” he said, then slapped his ass again before heading to the bathroom to retrieve a warm wash rag along with drinks for them both.

“Did you like it?” Wylie asked afterward when they were both lying beside each other in bed, him with his vape, Diego with his intrusive thoughts. Wylie asked him in a way that told him he wasn’t necessarily looking for praise but wanted to make sure Diego really had enjoyed it. Diego elected not to be rude or snarky and just be honest.

“I did like it. A lot. Probably the best sex of my life.”

“Really?” Wylie asked with unabashed glee, and Diego worried about the size of that already bloated ego.

“I haven’t had a ton of sex, mind you,” Diego said.

“Would you do it again?” The edge of Wylie’s mouth tilted upward like he knew the answer already.

“Maybe, if there was a foot rub involved,” Diego conceded. He’d at least have to make the man work for it.

“I’ll rub every part of you, top to bottom,” Wylie promised,and Diego didn’t doubt the man’s devotion. “You’re staying the night.”

“I know. You told me that already.”

“Just making sure. Come on and get under the covers. Cuddle time.” He set his vape on the bedside table and pulled back the top sheet for Diego get underneath.

“Wait, are you trying to make me the little spoon?” Diego asked.

Wylie only looked at him expectantly and tilted his head at the space in front of him. Diego obliged, and Wylie reached back to turn off the lamp on the bedside table. He threw his arm around Diego and rubbed his chest in a soothing motion.

“You’re a good bottom,” Wylie whispered into his ear while holding on tightly, probably so that Diego couldn’t squirm away.

“Shut up,” Diego said, but he was smiling.

“My sweet little honeypot. If we lived together, we could do that every night,” Wylie said.

“Wylie Fox Sommers,” Diego said sternly, using his full name for effect. What an auspicious name for the man, as if his mother had known from the start exactly what she was getting.

“I know, too soon. But that did feel really incredible. You were so responsive. I never would have thought someone as tough as you could be so soft and squishy on the inside.”

Diego didn’t know if he meant that literally or figuratively, and he decided that it didn’t really matter. One thing was for certain, Diego had never, ever revealed that side of himself to another person–too risky, too dangerous. But it was becoming more and more regular with this man, and what might that mean for Diego when Wylie inevitably went away? Or when he woke up one day and realized he was way too good for him?

Sex was fine and good, but a real, lasting relationship?

Rather than let those fears surface into an actual conversation, Diego simply said, “Thank you for showing me how good that could feel.”

“Thank you for trusting me,” Wylie said with sincerity. “Anddon’t try to sneak out of here tomorrow morning before I wake up. I got eggs and bacon to make you breakfast. Lots of protein.”

Diego snorted but inwardly warmed at his thoughtfulness. “I have to be to work at ten,” he reminded him.

“Perfect. After a performance like that, you deserve to sleep in.”

They settled into a comfortable silence. Soon after, Diego heard Wylie breathing softly, his warm breath ghosting against his neck. That was good. He needed some privacy to process everything that had just happened–the tender vulnerability Wylie had brought out in him, the complete trust he’d had in the other man to take care of him. It was terrifying to be that dependent on another person, even if it was only sex, but it gave Diego a glimpse of who he might be if the walls came down. Not an isolated, impenetrable fortress, but a human being who craved love and connection.

Not that this was love or anything. Too soon.Waytoo soon.

And he didn’t want to use Wylie as a crutch. The problem was, Diego couldn’t tell the difference. Were his feelings for Wylie normal and healthy, or was this the beginning of some toxic co-dependency where he used Wylie to chase some elusive high?

Behind him, the man in question stirred in his sleep, hugging Diego to him in a possessive way. Diego didn’t hate it. Shouldn’t that concern him?

One day at a time,Diego reminded himself.

But deep down, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was standing at the edge of something massive, the shape of which he couldn’t quite comprehend, something that he might not be able to come back from.

CHAPTER 11