“I’m getting a strong sense of déjà vu again.”

I sniffled and wiped at my eyes, turning my head slightly to look at Wynn, who leant against the bedroom doorway. “I’m sorry, it’s just—” I wiped some more on my face, trying to be rid of the damn tears. “I get so emotional. I’m just happy is all.”

“Yeah?” He came into the room, advancing on me slowly. “That sure is a difference to the night we met.”

I laughed through my tears. “It is, isn’t it?”

His big hand settled on the top of my head, ruffling my hair.

“Mum always says I’m so sensitive. I cry easily. Always have. I’m sorry.” It was a weakness, but I couldn’t help it. When the tears pressed, I couldn’t hold them back.

“Don’t apologise.” He crouched down in front of me, hand slipping from my head to rest on my knee. “There’s nothing wrong with crying. Some people cry a lot, some don’t cry at all. We’re all different.”

“You’re probably in the doesn’t cry at all category,” I commented, chuckling a little.

“Mostly, yeah.” He smiled slightly. “I’ve cried my share though.” He put his other hand on my other knee. “Like when Madison died. After that wasn’t a good time.”

“What was he like?” I asked, remembering what Chad had said, but wanting to hear how Wynn had seen his previous boyfriend.

His lips flattened and he bowed his head so I couldn’t see his expression. I regretted asking, thinking he wouldn’t answer me, but then he started speaking. “He wasn’t anything like you.”

I started. What was that supposed to mean? Was it good? Bad? Or was it just an observation that didn’t really mean anything?

“He was… distant, I guess. But…” He had a hard time finding the words. It was obvious he wasn’t used to speaking about this. “He was a sweetheart, really. He just… His life was shit. His mum was a bitch. And because of his horrible childhood he had a lot of problems. He didn’t even want to tell me most of what had happened to him during his childhood, so I don’t know much of it.” His grip around my knees tightened. “Mine was probably nothing compared to his though.”

I leant forward a little so I could rest my cheek against the top of his head. What was your childhood like then? I wanted to ask, but I didn’t want to push. The fact he was talking about Madison was a bit surprising on its own. We had time to talk about his childhood later—I didn’t need to know now. Even if he never wanted to talk about it, that was fine. I knew him now. I liked the person he was now.

“I knew he had a bit of an interest, or obsession maybe, with death and dying. I just never thought—I never thought he’d do it. Back then it was really hard, especially considering I was thrown in jail and wasn’t even allowed to go to his funeral. I tried to… well, I overdosed and ended up sectioned, so I guess that was rock bottom. Things were hard without him. I had no one anymore—Chad was busy dealing with his own illness and he had his guys. I’d only had Madison.” He paused. “Nowadays though… I like to think he’s better wherever he is now. That he’s not struggling or suffering or worrying. That he’s finally at peace.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck. I hadn’t lost anyone—except my grandparents on both Mum and Dad’s side, but I’d been young then—so I couldn’t imagine what it would be like.

“And sometimes I think—” He drew in a shaky breath. “That perhaps he’s better off dead. Like, when he was alive everything was so difficult for him. Life, being sociable, being with someone, not being with someone… everything was a struggle. And now nothing is, because he’s at peace. I hope he is anyway. No, I think he is. He—yeah, he’s good now. Living isn’t for everyone and he’s better off now.”

I held him tight. I could tell from the way his voice had gone all hoarse and deeper that this was difficult to admit. “I like to think that everyone who dies is at peace. Maybe they’re watching over us or maybe there’s nothing at all after death, but whatever it is, it’s peaceful.”

He made a sound, something between a chuckle and a snort. He pulled away from me and finally lifted his head. His eyes were a little glassy, but other than that I saw no sign of tears. “Yeah. That’s what I like to think too.” He bowed his head again for a little while, gathering himself. When he looked back up, the glassiness was gone too and he grinned wryly. “So, dinner with your brother and his boyfriend tomorrow?”

“I hope you didn’t feel pressured into saying yes to that,” I said, anxiety flooding me. “We can cancel if you want.”

“I wouldn’t have said yes if I didn’t want to.” He straightened, patting my head, then looped his hand around my neck as he sat down next to me. Right next to me, so our thighs and sides pressed together. “Your brother loves you. He wants what’s best for you. And frankly, so do I. I hope—well, yeah, that I can be that person.”

A flush crept up my neck and bled into my cheeks. “You’re already well on your way to being that, you know. No matter how sudden it is, it’s true.”

“It has only been a week,” he mused, staring out at the room at large, one arm bracing him on the bed while the other was still around my neck. “But a relationship’s got to start off somewhere, after all. There’s got to be a certain amount of like and chemistry to make it work, and eventually…”

“Eventually?” I asked when he didn’t continue.

He grimaced slightly. “Well, hopefully the like will bloom into love after a while, yeah?”

I smiled. “Yeah. I hope so. I like you a lot already.”

“I like you a lot too.” He drew me in close to press a chaste kiss to my temple. “Have for a while.” And yes, that was true… he’d watched me before that night a week ago when we met. I tended to forget that, that he’d watched me long before I ever noticed him.

“You’re the best thing that’s happened to me,” I murmured, curling in close to him.

He snorted. “Give it a while. I’m hardly that.”

“You are,” I pressed. “Even Kian and Silver noticed it.” Speaking of… “They interrupted us. Maybe we should continue where we left off?”

“Yeah?” He moved close for a kiss—then froze.

“What?” I blinked.

“I keep forgetting about your lip.”

“Oh.” Right. My damn swollen, sore lip. “There are a lot of other places you can kiss though,” I suggested.

Now he smirked. “Oh, I plan on kissing them, all right.”

A gasp left me as he suddenly shoved me down on the bed, but when his warm, hard body covered mine and his lips attached to my neck, all I could do was sigh happily. “You’re so good to me,” I whispered.

“Shouldn’t I be?” he asked drily.

I tried to suppress the wide smile, but failed majorly. “You better be. We’re wearing too many clothes though. You should do something about that.”

He stripped me slowly, taking his time kissing over the skin that was revealed. He spent extra time on my nipples once my jumper was off, sucking them into hard little nubs before he moved further down. His lips were warm and soft, such a contrast to the slight rasp of stubble. His tongue, when he licked my dick, was hot.

“I wish I could suck you too,” I murmured, gazing down at him.

“Not with that lip you can’t.” His eyes, dark as ever, flicked up to stare at me. “But don’t worry. I’ll make you feel good. You just lie back and enjoy yourself.”

I did. I closed my eyes and simply enjoyed. His hands on my skin, sliding the rest of my clothes off, his tongue, his lips, his mouth on me. All that existed in my tiny little world right then was him. His fingers, longer and thicker than mine, coated with lube and sliding into me. He fucked me gently with his fingers, crooking them a little in search of my prostate. When he found it my world narrowed even further.

When his cock slid into me, all I could do was cling to him. To the wide, strong shoulders that protected me, that I could lean on and cry on. He didn’t judge me and I didn’t annoy him and he wasn’t embarrassed about being seen with me. He didn’t care about any of that.

“Kasey…” He moved my legs so they rested on his shoulder, bending me in half. “Is this okay?”

“Y-yeah,” I choked out, because yes it was! And he was hitting the right spot just perfectly.

“Good.” He quickened his speed, thrusting his hips back and forth, driving his cock deep inside me, right up against my prostate.

I blinked my eyes open to watch him. His face was close to mine, face set in a sort of determined, intense expression, and sweat beaded on his forehead. He looked so fucking good. I grabbed his face, brought it even closer and kissed him. Only that wasn’t a good idea at all—and I turned my head away with a hiss of pain.

He stopped thrusting, stayed buried inside me, and instead cupped my cheek. “You all right?”

“Ahh, yeah.” I berated myself silently for trying to kiss him when I knew I had a swollen lip. Except I’d forgotten all about that in passion and now I suffered for it. “Sorry. I forgot.”

He chuckled, leaning down to kiss my cheek, then the corner of my mouth—on the other side of where my lip was all sore and swollen. “Kissing won’t be a thing for the next few days. Not for you at least.”

“You feel free to kiss me wherever you want except there.” I felt the skin around my lip. It was a little tender too. Dammit.

“Do you want to continue?”

What kind of question was that? “Do you want to stop?”

He chuckled. “No.”

“Good. It’s my lips that’s busted, not anything else.” Definitely not anything else. Though my dick had wilted a little after my dumb attempt at a kiss.

His hand wrapped around it, like he’d read my thoughts. “Stop trying to kiss me and we’ll get this show back on the road.” He grinned wickedly, moving his hips again in time with his fist stroking my cock.

Since he’d sat up now and there was no shoulder for me to hold on to, I let my arms flop to the bed. A soft moan left me and my eyes fluttered closed again as he quickened his thrusts.

“You look so sweet like this, Kasey,” he said. “All flushed and spread open for me.”

Him saying that only made me flush more. But his words also made me happy. He always praised me. Al had never done that. No one had ever done that before, not the guys I’d sucked off either. But Wynn… he always said nice things during sex. He was quite talkative, wasn’t he?

“Do you like to take it from behind?”

He just wasn’t going to let me lie still and enjoy this in quiet, was he? “Umm, yeah.”

“Let’s do that then.” He pulled out, his dick still as hard as ever, the condom glistening with lube, the piercings trapped underneath it. He grabbed my hips and flipped me over before I could even think about moving. Getting an eyeful of his cock pretty much ensured I wouldn’t be able to think, so… yeah. Good thing he took charge.

I got my knees under me and lifted my lower body off the bed.

“Fuck.” He grabbed my arse, squeezing, spreading my cheeks. The head of his dick bumped against my opening, then slid in without any resistance.

A low, drawn-out moan escaped me and I buried my face in the sheets.

“You can make a noise,” he said, leaning over me, hands running from my hips and up to brace against my shoulder-blades as he quickened his thrusts. “How many times do I have to tell you that? You don’t have to be quiet with me. I want to hear you.” He did a particularly hard, deep thrust, and I couldn’t hold the groan in. “There you go.”

“It’s so good,” I whispered, wanting him to know just how much I enjoyed this. Being loud in bed was embarrassing, but I could definitely tell him. Tell instead of show… Hah. Shouldn’t it be show instead of tell? I’d work on it. If Wynn didn’t think it was embarrassing, then it wasn’t right?

He kept his thrusts up, hitting my prostate so good each time I felt like I might burst. And I did—I came without touching my dick and a few tears leaked out from the corner of my eyes. Damn, even during sex I cry now. But that was because it was so damn good. Because Wynn knew what he was doing, knew how to make my body react to every single thing he did. He already knows me so well like this.

His thrust grew a little erratic, his breath stuttering as he came too.

My knees gave out and he followed me down, body covering mine. He was heavy, but I didn’t mind. It was nice to be so completely surrounded by him. It was so safe. Whenever he was around I didn’t have to be afraid.

“I’ll be right back.” He brushed a kiss over the nape of my neck, then extracted himself from me. His dick, now flaccid, popped out of me and he pulled off the condom as he padded over the floor to the bathroom.

I hugged the pillow close, not caring right now that I lay in the middle of a wet spot. I’d have to get up eventually, and we’d have to change the sheets—or the duvet cover, anyway, but for now I was too content to bother with anything.

“Was it that good?” He laughed as he came into the bedroom again.

My gaze zeroed in on his dick and the piercings glinting in the light. It was… fascinating. I couldn’t stop looking.

“Did I leave you speechless?” He bent over me, pressing a harder kiss to the nape of my neck.

“Umm.” His dick was so close now. I grabbed it, cupping it in my palm, rubbing my thumb over the piercings. “I just really like these.”

He chuckled. “My piercings?”

“Mmm.” I cupped his balls too. They were round, heavy.

“You’ve changed a lot in the past few days, you know.”

“Hmm?” I finally tore my gaze away from his dick to look up into his eyes. “How so?”

“Well, for starters, you’re not a bundle of anxiety anymore.” He leaned down again, nose rubbing against the top of my head. “And that deer-caught-in-headlights-look… that’s gone too.” He climbed on the bed and stretched out next to me. I still fondled his dick, not letting it go, but I did arrange myself so I rested against him now instead of the pillow.

He wrapped an arm around my shoulders, holding me close. “It was all his fault, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah.” And it was true. Al had made me afraid of everything. Of people finding out, of people simply talking to me or being annoyed by me, like he always was. But Wynn… he made me feel safe and he never put me down. In fact, he’d helped me up, hadn’t he? When I couldn’t deal with the job, he’d taken me under his wing had properly taught me how to mix all kinds of drinks himself. No one else had ever done that. “This is better, right?”

His grip around my shoulders tightened. “Lots better.”

And I smiled against his chest. I might’ve been slapped around and bruised by Alistair. Wynn and I might not love each other yet, but we liked each other a hell of a lot. We were compatible. And love always started with like, didn’t it?

It was hard to say after only a week if we’d make it, but so far we were good. I was living with him already, we were good together, we got along, we had great sex… That was a good foundation to build on.

I knew I had my bad sides and he likely did as well, and we’d figure each other out eventually as we continued to live together… but that was what it was supposed to be like. We were supposed to experience both the good and the bad in each other, and then move on from there. Accept it, fight about it, whatever… I didn’t think we wouldn’t ever fight, because all couples did that from time to time. I didn’t think we’d always be this content and calm, because that wasn’t what life was like.

But we liked each other. We wanted to try and build from this. We wanted to be together. We wanted a relationship with each other. And yes, it had only been a week, but we’d already built a strong foundation. I wholeheartedly believed that.

A strong foundation was needed for when love came along, for when life got hard again. With that strong foundation, it would be hard to knock it all down. Mutual like and respect… that was good. That was what had lacked previously. With Wynn, it didn’t.

“I really like you,” I whispered.

He grunted. “Good. Because I really like you too.” And he kissed the top of my head, and I smiled, and for that moment everything was perfect.

Yeah, love can definitely be built on this.