CHAPTER 27
Six hours later, as Adam let himself inside his flat, he wondered if he should have brought the little blond intern home after all, regardless of what Jake had said.
Dropping his briefcase on the floor, Adam sighed in annoyance. He wished Jake would finally get off his back. First Jake had nagged him constantly, trying to convince him to go out and get laid, and when Adam had done just that, Jake had started nagging him that he was doing it too often. It was fucking rich, considering that Adam had gotten laid all those months ago just to get Jake off his back, because apparently he needed to hook up with someone to prove that he was fine.
He was fine. His word should have been enough. He was fine back then and he was more than fine now. It had been a year. He was fine. It pissed him off that Jake kept implying that he still wasn’t over Harry. Of course he was over Harry.
He barely even remembered the color of Harry’s eyes. Or the way Harry smiled happily when he was delighted or excited about something. Or the way Harry curled into him, like a flower toward the sun.
Clenching his jaw, Adam loosened his tie. Harry had been a lying little shit who’d fucked him up so badly that it had taken him months to recover. He’d nearly lost his job over Harry. His mother had had to come to London and yell at him for being one depressed fuck before he finally got a grip.
It had been a year. A long, shitty year but a year that had changed him a great deal. Apparently time did heal all wounds. The pain and the lovesickness and the feeling of betrayal had long disappeared, leaving only cold rage and nothing else.
Adam removed his tie and started unbuttoning his shirt. He rolled his neck from side to side, trying to ease some of his tension. He was unzipping his fly when a tentative knock broke the silence in the flat.
Adam frowned and headed to the door.
He turned the lock, pushed the door open—and went very still.
Because in front of him stood Harry, his violet eyes wide and wary and hungry at the same time.
Something in him lurched.
He did forget the exact color of his eyes.
“Hello,” Harry said.
How fucking dare he.
Adam shut the door in his face.
He leaned his forehead against it, trying to calm down. His entire body was shaking—with rage and something else—and he couldn’t fucking think.
Harry was there. Harry was there.
Adam couldn’t remember how many months he’d hoped that Harry would come back. Three? Four?
And now, a fucking year later, the little shit dared come back, looking all pretty and doe-like, and he expected Adam to... to do what, exactly?
What the fuck did he want?
Setting his jaw, Adam yanked the door open again.
Harry still stood on the other side, looking pale and dejected. It didn’t seem he’d moved an inch.
“What do you want?” Adam said harshly, trying not to look Harry in the eye. It pissed him off that those eyes still had so much power over him, despite everything.
“I…” Harry said, blinking.
Seriously. He looked like a china doll, not a real man. How could he ever want that? Harry wasn’t even all that handsome. He was cute and pretty, but objectively, his face was too strange to call it handsome.
“I…” Harry said, his voice hoarse and expression dazed.
Following Harry’s gaze, Adam realized Harry was staring at his bare chest and half-opened fly. The raw need in his eyes was hard to mistake for anything else.
Adam laughed. “Seriously?”
He couldn’t fucking believe it. “Is that what you came for? My dick?”
Harry flushed. “You d-don’t understand.”
“You’re right: I don’t,” Adam bit off before turning around and heading to the couch. He sat on it and looked at Harry, who had followed him dazedly into the flat.
The little shit was still looking at his crotch, as if it held all the answers in the world. Cold rage bubbled through Adam’s veins. He’d nearly drunk himself into oblivion because of Harry, but apparently all Harry wanted was his cock. Nice.
“Is that really what you came for?” Adam said and barely recognized his voice, so ugly it was.
Harry licked his lips. “I...”
“You know what?” Adam said, pulling his fly open. “Fine.” Despite the rage inside him, he was hard. Of course he was when Harry was looking at his cock like he was gagging for it. If Harry had come for a quick, nasty fuck, who was he to deny him that? Maybe that would finally make him forget the last and only time they’d made love—had fucked. Had fucked. That was all it had been.
“You want my cock?” Adam leaned back against the couch, looking hard at Harry. “Come sit on it.”
Harry literally swayed on his feet, his eyes still fixed on Adam’s crotch. Christ, he looked almost drugged, his expression needy and his eyes glazed.
“I...” Harry said, taking a step to the couch, and then another. “We need to talk.” And yet, despite his words, he was straddling Adam’s lap and taking Adam’s cock into his shaking hands.
Fuck.
Adam took a breath through his gritted teeth, unable to believe Harry was actually doing this.
His hands twitched and he gripped the couch to stop himself from touching Harry. Fuck, he felt like a starved man forcing himself not to eat the feast laid out before him. The feast was only deceptively sweet. It was fucking poisonous. He’d barely put himself together last time. He wasn’t doing it again.
Adam hissed as Harry squeezed his cock with both hands. “We r-really need to talk,” Harry stuttered, sounding completely out of it, before suddenly whining and hiding his face in Adam’s chest. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry—I can’t—I need it too much.” He nuzzled his cheek into Adam’s bare chest before latching onto his nipple and sucking hungrily, his hands stroking Adam’s cock greedily. Adam bit his lip hard, his fingers burying in Harry’s hair while Harry sucked on Adam’s nipple like a hungry baby, moaning and writhing on Adam’s lap, trying to wriggle out of his sweatpants—or at least what looked like sweatpants but was made of a strange smooth fabric.
Finally, Harry managed it and straddled his lap again, naked from below the waist, and ground his ass against his cock.
Adam hissed. Harry whined.
Adam bit the inside of his cheek, trying to regain some semblance of control. He should push Harry away and throw him out of his flat. He should, instead of thinking about where to get condoms and lube. But as he looked at Harry’s flushed, dazed face, the harsh words that had been on the tip of Adam’s tongue got stuck in his throat.
Before Adam realized what was happening, Harry was sinking down onto his cock.
Adam’s eyes widened. He swore through his teeth. He was clean, but it was still irresponsible as hell. They shouldn’t be doing this. They shouldn’t be doing this for so many reasons. Good reasons. One of them being that fucking without lube was never a good idea.
“Wait, Haz—” But Harry wasn’t dry. He was so fucking slick already, wet tightness enveloping his cock as Harry moaned, a wrecked expression on his face, pink lips slack and eyes glazed.
What the fuck. How—why—
Adam tried to ask, tried to speak, tried to think, but all rational thought left his brain when Harry started riding him. All he could think about was Harry, Harry, Harry, and want, want, want.
He could only stare at Harry, feeling drugged and rendered speechless by the sight of him.
Harry was biting his lips, an almost pained expression on his face as he rode Adam clumsily, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps, his lovely thighs trembling with effort.
Their eyes met and locked.
“Adam,” Harry said breathlessly, sliding his hands up Adam’s chest and curling them around Adam’s neck. “Please.”
“What?” Adam croaked, feeling his barriers coming down one after another the longer Harry looked at him.
“Please,” Harry said again, pulling Adam’s head to his until their foreheads pressed together as he squirmed on Adam’s cock. “Need you. I need you. I missed you.”
Goddammit.
Adam bit at Harry’s slack, panting mouth, and then again and again, until the biting kisses turned into wet, deep ones. Harry was moaning happily into his mouth, and Christ, Harry. Harry, Harry, Harry. Adam shoved Harry onto the couch and was on top of him before Harry’s back even hit the couch. He pushed his cock back inside Harry’s slick hole, eliciting a long, blissful moan from Harry. Propping himself on his elbows, Adam gave Harry what he wanted: he took.
Harry went absolutely crazy under him, clawing at Adam’s back, his nails digging into his skin even through Adam’s shirt and legs wrapping around Adam’s hips, urging him on.
Adam didn’t need to be urged on. He had never fucked anyone like this: as if he needed it in his blood, as if he’d die if he didn’t get his cock deep enough into Harry, as if this was what he lived for. They both were moaning, the slick sound of his cock moving in and out of Harry’s hole the only other sound in the room. The sex felt so fucking dirty in the best sense of the word.
Soon, Harry was sobbing, arching under him and mumbling something incoherent—something that didn’t even sound like English.
“English, babe,” Adam said, sucking hungry kisses into Harry’s pale neck as he pounded into him.
“Please come in me,” Harry mumbled, rolling his hips to meet Adam’s thrusts. “Want you to come in me.”
Adam shuddered, the weird request doing things to his primitive side. Fuck. He did want it. He wanted to come inside Harry, fill him up with his come until Harry’s tummy was full of it and Harry continued leaking Adam’s come for hours—
A groan ripped out of his throat as he started to come, staggered by the rush of pleasure. He was shoving deep into Harry with each wave of it, drawing it out into something overwhelming. Harry cried out, arching under Adam and sobbing in relief as he orgasmed, his hole clenching around Adam’s softening cock.
Fuck.
Adam dropped his face beside Harry’s, his limbs weak and his mind blissfully blank.