He doesn’t make this easy for me. Kyle is by far the softer heart from the two of us and he turns up with a ruck sack packed to the brim.

“What have you brought with you? You can wear my clothes; you only need a toothbrush.”

“That’s what I figured.” He grins as he plants his bag on the dining table. It’s heavy and I’m surprised the flimsy legs of the rental furniture don’t give way.

“What have you got?” I hustle over to assist him with fiddling with the plastic clasps which open it.

“Wait!” He slaps my hand away.

I let it rest around his shoulders, enjoying his smell. It’s scary how quickly I’ve become accustomed to operating without it following me around.

“Here.” He lifts the lid with a flourish.

Inside his bag are all my favorite foods. He has my special muesli from the health food shop down the road from where we live, the organic wholemeal pasta I eat when I’m training, and even eggs.

“I didn’t want you to start getting fat on all that takeout. You have to stay trim for next season.” Although he’s teasing me, pulling at the non-existent tire around the top of my jeans, he has a point and I love him a little bit more for it. No one has ever done anything so thoughtful for me.

“This must have crippled your back.”

“Sure did. I could do with a massage now.” His eyebrows waggle up and down as he stares at me, and the bob of his Adam’s apple tells me he’s serious.

Weeks of frustration burst free and I need no further encouragement. I’m straight on him and much as it takes us both by surprise, he doesn't flinch. Our lips connect, my tongue forcing his mouth open and finding its way to tangle with his. He’s freshly shaved, and smells all woodsy, all Kyle. His hands clasp my hips, his fingers running up the back of my t-shirt and scraping down my spine. The heat running under his touch shoots into my pants and I’m already throbbing, begging to take and be taken.

“You’ve been bad this week,” he groans into my mouth.

“Oh?”

“You’ve been an asshole in fact. You need to make it up to me.”

“I was planning to.”

“This is as good a place as any to start.”

He pulls away, rips his top over his head and strips his jeans down to his ankles before stepping out of them right there in the dining room.

“Strip,” he orders.

“Whoa, I like this.” The grin plastered over my face tells him I’m not joking as I almost trip getting out of my fleece lounging shorts.

He stands facing me, appraising my appearance. “Now, it’s time for you to show me the bedroom and make your apologies Mister Beaumont-Judd.”

Excitement bubbles inside me. “Oh, I love it when you’re forceful Mister Beaumont-Judd.”

I grab his hand, leading him through the tiny lounge area to the bedroom where he lets go and lays face down in the center with his legs straddled wide so his feet hook over both edges.

“That’s a downside with our huge bed. I don’t get this view.” I clamber on top of the bed, running my tongue up his calf, and laboring behind his knee. He bites back a moan as his leg twitches under my touch as I nip his thigh and work up to the firm flesh of his buttocks where I suck.

His heated moan kicks my senses up to another level and I suck harder, really fucking enjoying tasting him, branding him. I release his butt cheek with a loud pop and survey the pink mark developing on his flesh, my cock shudders, upset at having spent a week away from my man.

But then he speaks, “You sound like you’re having too much fun to pay for being a prick this week. Get yourself seated on my ass and give me that massage.”

“I can do that.” I bite my bottom lip as I shift position to do as I’m told, lodging my cock between his dark crack and putting a little more pressure than is necessary on as I lean over him and start to knead his tired shoulders.