I jog along the sidewalk on Peachtree Street, moving at a faster than usual pace for me as the sound of Kate Bush’s “Running Up That Hill” blasts through my earbuds, pushing me through my final stretch. An intense energy surges through me.

Since Jesse and I spoke with Ty again, I feel more at ease. Not entirely, considering honesty couldn’t make up for how we hurt Ty. But like with sharing the truth with Jesse about what happened to me at sixteen, there’s this weight that’s been lifted off me. Although, with that relief came the vivid awareness that I only muddied my already tricky relationship with Ty.

Life’s such a motherfucker.

I try and fight, push through, survive, fuck up. Again and again, I fuck up. I’ve failed more times than succeeded, and all I know is that, regardless of what bullshit happens, all I can do is keep going.

I finish up my run, working through that strange combination of liberation and guilt. Sweat rushes down my body and crawls across my flesh. I’m huffing and puffing as I make it back to the condo, through the lobby, and wave to Gerry, one of our concierge clerks, as I approach him.

I hope Jesse’s here. I hope he’s waiting for me upstairs because all I want to do is take his body, feel his flesh against my own. I want to taste his mouth, his cock, his cum.

He had to swing by his parents’ place to have dinner with them, but I want him to be back here, close to me.

As Gerry offers me my mail, I ask, “My boyfriend’s upstairs?”

“Yes, sir. He arrived about twenty minutes ago.”

I feel as if I can breathe…really breathe again.

When I open the door and head in, I’m looking around frantically for my guy. I round the corner of the island and see him at the dining room table, typing on his laptop. He’s got his earbuds in, listening to one of his podcasts, I imagine.

As I move toward him, his gaze shifts to me, his smile expanding as he pulls out the earbuds and sets them on the table beside his laptop. Rising, he offers me that look that makes me feel like I’m the most important thing in his world in this moment.

It’s exactly what I’ve needed today. What I’ve been missing.

He’s here, and I’m safe…

“Look at this big sweaty man creeping up in here.”

That I’m soaked with sweat doesn’t discourage him as he hooks an arm around me and plants a kiss on my lips. My dick goes hard, and I cup my hand behind his head, pulling him close, locking lips, getting lost in him. He’s easy to get lost in.

As we continue to kiss, I revel in those sensations he has the power to stir within me, how he electrifies me.

Passion ignites within me.

It’s that fire I felt the first time we met, with a simple handshake—God, what that did to me. Oh, the things he did to me…and the things he’s doing to me now as my dick twitches in my shorts. He must feel it against him because he reaches down and grabs my crotch.

“Mmmm.” Our lips click as he breaks away. “There’s something I’ve been missing all day.”

“That’s funny.” I grab his ass. “I’ve been missing this all day.”

Having his firm, tight cheek in my hand arouses me even more, especially as I look at that gorgeous baby face of his—his soft jawline, the subtle dip in his chin, those brown eyes filled with desire like I’m the only guy he’s ever looked at like that. And really, considering his limited experience, that must be true…and I fucking love knowing that.

I want to bend him over the table and have him right now, writhing beneath me, greedily taking my cock in his ass, begging me to take him harder, to make him fucking cry out my name.

I restrain myself.

“I better take a shower,” I force out through gritted teeth because I’m pissed at the obstacle standing between us right now.

“I’d hate for you to do it all by yourself.” He tilts his head slightly, offering an adorable expression that elicits a much-needed chuckle from me.

Ah…that’s the spot. That’s what I need to get rid of the stress, the pain.

We head into the shower, and I’ve hardly rinsed off before Jesse takes my lips once again. He presses his hand against the small of my back, forcing our torsos flush as his other hand kneads at my hip.

Heat races from my core to my face as the warm water from the showerhead slides between us, webbing down our faces, dripping from our lips as I force my tongue in his mouth.

I pull him closer to me, but it’s not close enough. I don’t know if it’s possible for me to get as close to him as I want to be.

He kisses down my face, to my neck, and works his way down onto his knees, leaving a trail of kisses across my body until he reaches my cock. He grips it before sliding it into his mouth—without hesitation or question.

I remember that first time he did that to me, when he was inexperienced but determined to do a good job. Now he’s my little pro, and I couldn’t count how many times he’s had my cock in his mouth, even in these few months we’ve been seeing each other…fucking each other…falling for each other.

I thread my fingers through his hair, the soaked locks smooth against my flesh as I urge him to take more of me, which he eagerly does.

I know what I want, but there’s a part of me that doesn’t want to stop what he’s doing to me. I whisper, “Stand up.”

He obeys, and I push him back against the wall adjacent to us. Reaching my hand down, I cup his balls, his dick hanging out thick and long before him.

He’s eyeing me as though he’s uncertain about what I’m about to do, but like he’s curious, intrigued even.

I slide my hand back farther, pressing two fingers up against his hole, massaging gently, applying enough pressure to tease.

The way the corners of his lips rise assures me of what a good idea this was. That I’m reminding him of those early experiences we shared when he was first discovering how good a prostate could feel. He relaxes against the wall as I continue stimulating his ass.

I kneel and take his cock into my mouth, serving my guy. I want to give him so much pleasure. Not only so he can enjoy getting off, but because I feel as though I owe him so much, because of how happy he’s made me ever since he stormed into my life, seizing control of my body and my heart.

His dick keeps getting harder, like a fucking stone. I slide it out of my mouth and pull my fingers away from his hole, licking them before returning them to his ass, working them into him.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he says.

I glance up at him, feeling so submissive to him. Like he’s dominating me and in control. Part of that is exhilarating, and another scary as fuck.

But scary as it is, I love it. It reminds me of what I want from him…what I want him to do to me…but what I know I can’t deal with right now.

“I want you to fuck me, Eric,” he says, his expression so fucking serious that I rise and kiss that gorgeous mouth of his once again.

I want to turn him around and fuck him right here, but that’s not practical, so I kneel and, grabbing his legs, lift him into the air and throw him over my shoulder, being careful not to hit his head against the glass divider.

He’s not a small guy, and it takes a little bit of work on my part. I can tell by the way he’s chuckling that he’s amused by this game as I open the door to the shower and carry him into the bedroom.

“We’re fucking soaking wet,” he says as he struggles to speak through his laughter.

“I’ll change the fucking sheets.” I grab the cover and throw it aside, then drop him onto the mattress, enjoying the way his wet body glistens in my bedroom lighting. “I don’t give a damn what I have to do. I’m going to be inside you.”

My determination seems to make his dick that much harder.