Page 51 of Sweet Thing

CHAPTER 24

so near loving you

A smile stole across Simeon’s face. He gave a long, languorous hum of pleasure as he woke to a broad, warm hand skimming his bare hip. He was lying on his side, Bastian was spooning his body, and nuzzling at his throat. Simeon could not recall ever being so happy.

“Guten MorgenLiebling. Glücklich Geburtstags“

“It is the happiest birthday,” Sim yawned, raising his knees and pushing his ass to snuggle against the other man’s warm abdomen.

The gentle caresses tracing his hip were sending Sim back into a fitful doze until there was a nudge at his ass from an urgent interloper. Sim eyes shot open, delighted that his bed partner was feeling aroused. The orgasm denial part of the Sensate Focus training was making Simeon fit to burst. He’d jerked off alone, but he had yet to share a climax with his lover. Simeon turned his head to see the face of a handsome, blond, man looming over him. He scanned the other man’s features, reading desire all over his face. He bit his lip and giggled coquettishly.

“Have I reawakened a monster?”

Sim was gathered into a tight hug, with Bastian’s semi-hard erection pushed against his warm arse cheeks.

“Ja! I think he needs to be tamed. But, I’m unsure if you’re the man for the job”, Bastian teased.

Simeon pushed back, wriggled, and then rolled over, his morning wood fencing with the thick veiny uncut shaft of his lover’s dick.

“It’s good to see him so wide awake, no? That was easier than I expected.”

“Oh… you must be my snake charmer.“

Simeon chuckled again and reached out to caress Bastian’s face tenderly. Sim never wanted to forget the feeling of this giddy happiness—happiness that was not artificially induced by drugs or alcohol.

Bastian’s brows rose inquiringly. “We run today, yes?”

“Don’t you want to attend to other things first?” Sim wriggled against Bastian.

“I can wait. You need to keep to your routine. I’ll join you this morning. We can run and then find other activities to take the place of the gym workout, yes?”

The way Simeon felt wrapped in Bast’s arms, he could have said ‘to hell with the run’ and lost himself for the day under the duvet with this gorgeous man. But Bastian was right. Sim needed to stick to his routine to stay healthy, and doing any physical activity together would be fun. He rolled out of bed, stood naked by the window overlooking the lake, and stretched as the warm morning sunlight bathed his skin. He turned back to see Bastian sitting up in bed, his arms behind his head, observing him.

“What?”

Bastian blushed when Simeon met his gaze. “I like this. Having you with me in the morning—and through the night”, he shared candidly.

“I like this too,” Simeon admitted, then looked away and bit his lip. Words stuck in his throat and he couldn’t get past the ball of feelings trapped there.

Silence fell between them and Sim focused on a flock of birds as they flew low over the lake, and then landed and started feeding on the opposite bank. He turned away from the window and set his mind to getting dressed.

Simeon’s running gear was in his suitcase, and it was stinky from being used in Paris. He hadn’t even had the chance to pick up clean clothing before being whisked away from the Airport. He held up a pair of sweaty jogging pants, sniffed them, and shook his head.

“Damn, I can’t wear these”, he exclaimed with a grimace of disgust.

Bast called from the bed. “Look in the Nike bag.” Sim saw there were a number of shopping bags that Bastian had brought with him.

“Just the Nike bag!” Bastian added “No peeking in the others.”

Simeon looked in the shopping bag and saw it contained a new pair of black jogging pants, socks, a red vest, and a black long sleeved hoodie.

“Gaah’d baby, you think of everything. How did you know my size?”

“Your comp card’s online,” Bastian admitted, speaking of the composite card all models and agents use to publicize their latest looks and measurements.

“Oh! You’ve been web stalking me again, eh?” Simeon accused jokily. Bastian returned the smile but never answered. He couldn’t bring himself to voice how he’d found other, more disturbing images of Simeon—images that had nearly broken his heart.

The British tabloid press appeared to have followed Simeon Duchamp into the gutter, hounding him until he’d disappeared off the face of the earth for a time. The paparazzi had taken a series of heartbreaking images of the young model. His long, dark hair greasy and bedraggled, skin sallow, eyes hollow, his t-shirt stained, and fly clearly undone. They followed him staggering out of a store with a blue plastic bag containing bottles and click, click, click, photographed him as he paused on a London park bench and opened a bottle of vodka, drinking it down neat as if it were water. The headline mocked ‘Not such a pretty face, ’ and the corresponding article read like they were celebrating a public hanging. Bastian cried when he saw those old images of his lover, so emaciated and close to suicide. He vowed he would never let Simeon fall so far again.