Yearn A. Ellis (carter reed .TXT) 📖

Or maybe you’re looking past the anger to realize that maybe you haven’t always hated him so much as you’ve kept yourself aloof and distant, refusing to open up, let your guard down, and talk about how you feel.

I rolled my eyes at my damn self-analyzing brain and climbed into the shower. Whatever. Whether I hated Dre or not, whether I was beginning to like having him around or not, the sex was amazing and we both agreed we’d take damn good advantage of it for as long as we could.

Nine

Dre

Holy shit.

If I was dreaming, I didn’t want to wake up.

Sex with Khi at the hotel had been fabulous despite leading to more awkwardness. Sex with Khi when we weren’t surrounded by a fog of anger and irritation was ramping up to be the best I’d ever had.

But were we being stupid?

Or maybe it was just me being stupid?

Khi made it very clear that whatever this new situation was between us, he wanted casual and no attachments, nothing serious.

While I wasn’t looking for a ring and forever, I’d definitely developed feelings toward Khi recently. Sometimes those feelings retreated back to the negative emotions of the past, but mostly I found myself living in a surreal world where the guy I used to dislike—the guy who left no doubt about hating me—had grown on me to the point where I looked forward to his grumpy refusal of the coffee I made for him. I wanted to spend time with him—even when he was being pissy and aloof—because I’d glimpsed beyond that façade and seen a different Khi.

Was it smart to get involved with a guy who clearly had so many hang-ups about showing emotion and being vulnerable? Probably not, but we weren’t getting involved, were we? No, it was just sex.

Yeah, keep telling yourself that and see how it turns out when Khi runs for the hills once he realizes you’re falling for him.

Didn’t matter, wouldn’t happen.

At least, that’s what I told myself.

And really, could anyone blame Khi for the issues he had with emotions? He’d had a shitty childhood and teen years, gave up his college ball dream too early because of his knee injury, and wasted seven years of his life with a lying, cheating bastard.

Obviously, issues were to be expected.

But you think you can be the one who breaks through all of those issues, all of those walls, and convinces the man who has just recently moved from hating to tolerating you—as long as his dick is buried in you—that maybe admitting feelings and building a relationship is a good idea?

I pursed my lips as I lathered soap all over, paying special attention to the most important nooks and crannies. Maybe it was ridiculous to even contemplate, but I thought there was potential between me and Khi—maybe, possibly, perhaps—and I wanted to see where this little jaunt in my life’s journey would take me.

It needs to take you right back to bed so Khi can fuck you senseless and nowhere else. Don’t get all romantic and idealistic about a guy who very clearly offered nothing more than a good dicking.

Why did my head have to be so cynical when my heart wanted to believe in fairytales and happily ever afters?

Why do you have to jump straight from the suggestion of hot, casual sex to hearts and flowers and forever?

Whatever. I had no illusions of Khi declaring his undying love for me and asking me to spend the rest of our lives together. I swallowed thickly as I rinsed the soap from my body. Honestly, though, would there be something terrible about that scenario?

Oh God, I was fucked. Somehow, I’d already gone and got myself all starry-eyed over a guy who’d been very upfront that all he wanted was sex. I shrugged and turned off the water. No worries. I was accustomed to being rejected—my designs, so far, hadn’t struck the fancy of any buyers—but that didn’t mean I was giving up.

Khi didn’t have to know I was all up in my feelings for him. We could have hot, amazing, mind-blowing sex and amicably move on when the situation naturally wore itself out. He’d go on to be his grumpy, aloof, guarded self and I’d eventually land both a contract for my designs and a man to love me unconditionally.

As I dried myself off and wrapped the towel around my waist before making my way back to our room, I chided myself for all of the dreaming and critical analysis. Khi and I had made great strides in moving away from the awkward tension and animosity of the past. So what if he wanted unattached sex and I maybe yearned for something a bit more? We’d enjoy what we had for the time being—and I meant to thoroughly enjoy that man—and deal with consequences and next steps later.

Khi was already in the room, lounging naked on his bed, when I walked in and locked the door behind me. He’d placed a condom and lube on the bedside table and he gave me a lascivious grin as he stroked his long, thick cock.

I’d bottomed a lot since admitting I was gay—despite being vers, most guys assumed I was a bottom—and I was very well-acquainted with the importance of prepping and stretching. Sharing a room with someone, both at work and home, didn’t leave a lot of self-pleasuring time outside of the shower. I fingered myself often, but I knew I’d need a lot of prepping if sex with Khi was going to be enjoyable.

Dropping my towel, I attempted to push away the first feelings of uncertainty. Did Khi really want this or was I just a hole for taking out frustrations?

“Come here,” he demanded.

I crawled onto the bed and Khi instantly wrapped his strong arms around me and rolled me to my back as his mouth devoured mine. The hint of mint made me smile, our teeth clacking together, when I realized we’d both brushed our teeth.

Khi’s