Page 86 of Clean Finish

“Are we okay?” he asked anxiously.

God. I knew rationally that he just meant as friends. Or maybe as ‘fuckletics instructor’ and student. But I wanted it to mean so much more.

“Yes,” I rasped, managing to give him a smile. “Of course.”

His shoulders slumped in relief as he let out a breath. He fidgeted in place for a second, then lunged forward and pressed himself against my front, his free hand clutching my back tight while the grocery bag got squished between us.

I forced myself not to kiss the top of his head as I wrapped my arms around him and returned the hug. After just a few seconds, he pulled back with a snuffle of laughter.

“You’re all sweaty.”

“Sorry,” I said ruefully, glancing down at myself. “I’m pretty muddy too. I better take a shower.”

“Okay.” He gave me a fragile version of his usual big, beautiful grin. “I’ll unpack this stuff and wait for you.”

Unlocking the door, I held it open and followed him inside. He toed off his sneakers and chuckled at the muddy footprints I was leaving as I headed for the stairs.

“It looks like Bigfoot’s been wandering around your house. Look at the size of ’em.”

I glanced back with a grin as I made my way up the stairs. “You know what they say about big feet.”

“Um, yeah, dude. I know for a fact that you have a stonking big dick.”

I laughed, some of the remaining tension bleeding away. After taking another quick shower to rinse off the mud and sweat, I pulled on a clean pair of shorts and hurried back downstairs.

He just wants to spend time with me. He’s not even here for a lesson.

I was already grinning as I walked into the kitchen and saw Larkin playing idly on his phone as he sat on his usual barstool, now in his fae form. On the counter was a big bag of flour, a jar of honey, and several packets of active dry yeast, with a brand-new loaf pan drying on the rack beside the sink.

Larkin looked back at me and grinned. “I got this really good butter too. For when the bread’s done. It’s in the fridge.”

“Alright, sounds good.” I came to a stop beside him. “Got a recipe we’ll be following?”

“Obv. My dad’s.” He reached into his sweatpants pocket and pulled out a folded slip of paper. “Got him to write it down for me when he got home from work. Thought he was gonna cry from happiness, dude.”

I chuckled, looking down when Larkin unfolded the paper and set it on the island. Sure enough, his dad had written at the top of the page, above the recipe, To my precious son, I love you so much. You’re our little sweetpea. We’re so proud of you. We love you. Enjoy making this bread.

“Oh my god,” Larkin groaned, rubbing his face. “He handed it to me folded up so I didn’t know he’d… He is so embarrassing, dude. It’s just a freaking bread recipe.”

“It’s really sweet.” I chuckled, then side-eyed him slyly. “Sweetpea.”

“Shut your face, dude.” He blushed and shot me a glare that was about as threatening as a mewling kitten. “Or I won’t teach you how to make dope bread.”

“Alright.” I chuckled and raised my hands. “Won’t say it again. Promise.”

“Better not.” He gave me a teasingly stern look as he stood, then hesitated before stepping closer and trailing his fingertips down the line of hair between my abs as he grinned up at me shyly. “Ready?”

My stomach muscles clenched at the touch, my cock tingling in my shorts. But he wasn’t here for a lesson, and I was beyond excited to spend more time with him like we had last night after the blowjobs. Just hanging out, everything so easy and comfortable and relaxed.

Maybe he’d snuggle up to me again if we ended up watching a movie or something. I really fucking hoped so.

“Ready,” I rasped.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Not a Lesson

Seb