My time in L.A. was almost done. Today was Thursday, I had a dayshift in the retirement home coming up on Sunday. Quitting and staying here wasn’t an option—they were depending on me to be there. And Mike and I, while we’d grown closer, well… it still didn’t quite feel like we’d become a couple.

Just played one on TV, to overuse an old phrase.

I’d spent a lot of time on the phone, talking to Mom, talking to Mike’s dad, talking to my dad and to Mike’s omega uncle Blaine. Even talking to Mrs. Costner, because I needed a freaking tie-breaker after talking to the supposed adults in our families.

Today, I’d spent most of the afternoon out roaming the neighborhood—Mike had had an early shoot, but was going to be home for supper, so I’d wandered into all the shops and talked to everyone, looking for something different that Mike would be guaranteed to like. Now I had chicken legs simmering away in a sauce on the stove, rice already cooked and just waiting to be steamed and fluffed up, and a salad made with at least three things I could no longer remember the name of, but which had all tasted good when the shopkeepers had given me samples to try.

It smelled delicious, but I wasn’t all that excited about it. To me, it felt more like a last meal.

Wasn’t he going to ask me to stay?

I thought I’d given him every reason to, but here we were—my flight back was tomorrow and Mike hadn’t said a single word about it.

The door opened and he came in and the room got three shades brighter, like it always did when he came home. “Damn, that smells good!” He hung his jacket on the hook by the door and kicked his shoes off to pad over to me and lift the cover on the frying pan. “Where did you learn to make that?”

“Your neighbors.” Okay, I might have sounded a bit smug, but he didn’t need to sound so surprised that I could cook. I just preferred eating out when we were together. More time for other things.

“Ha,” he said enigmatically and grabbed me so he could drop a kiss on my mouth. “I’m going to go have a shower. You want to go up to Hollywood Boulevard again tonight?”

We’d gone twice now and I still hadn’t seen everything. And if I hadn’t been leaving tomorrow, I’d have said yes. “Let me think about it,” I told him. Maybe he had something he really wanted to show me, but unless he did, I wanted to spend tonight just with him.

“Okay. I’ll be out in a couple of minutes.” He hugged me enthusiastically and disappeared toward the bedroom, trailing the smell of stage makeup and sweat behind him.

I set out the plates and got everything ready to go, the back of my neck still twitching with this feeling of wrong.

The sound of the shower running came to my ear and some unconscious thought finally moved up, instead of turning the chicken down, I turned it off. I’d been wondering when Mike was going to make a move or even say something—what if he was waiting for me to do something?

He’d spent the whole two weeks telling me he was following my lead.

Well, I’d give him a lead.

I left the food covered in the kitchen and followed Mike to the bathroom. His body showed faintly blurry through the wet glass of the shower stall door and I paused for a moment to admire the spread of his shoulders and the way they narrowed down to his hips. My skin prickled and that low-grade arousal I’d been feeling all day ramped up a notch, my mouth watering with the knowledge that all I had to do was open that door to see him clearly, and to touch him without anything between us. I ran a hand over the front of my jeans, just to tease myself, and felt my cock jump before I grabbed my courage with both hands and stepped inside with him.

“Lew?” He spun beneath the spray and gaped at me. “You’re going to get your clothes wet!”

“Then take them off me,” I told him and draped my arms around his neck so that he couldn’t escape. “It’s our last night together—you really want to spend it in separate rooms?”

“I don’t want to rush anything and ruin it,” he said, but I felt his hands on my waist pulling me closer.

“Leave that to me,” I whispered and pressed my mouth to his.

It didn't take him long to take charge of the kiss, which suited me perfectly. I was in the mood for him to be alpha. I wanted him to shove me up against the wall of the shower and have his way, imprint the feel of him on my skin and in my body. I wanted to get on that plane tomorrow with the feel of his cock inside me still impossible to ignore, so I could close my eyes and pretend that it hadn't ended.

The water poured down over us like warm rain. I ran my hands down his back and tipped my head back so he could kiss my throat, because it was one of my favorite things that he did. He took me up on the invitation and while I sighed and stretched for him, he began to work my soaking wet t-shirt up my body.

“Damn, Lew, you had to come in here with clothes on?” he muttered.

I laughed and dragged my nails up his back. “I wouldn’t want you to think I was too easy.”

“This won’t be easy at all,” he complained and pushed me back against the wall of the shower. “Hold still.”

His fingers tickled as he dragged the cotton up over my chest, pausing to pinch one of my nipples and make me moan and arch toward him. “Yeah, I remember that,” he said in a tone of wonder. “God, Lew, what a moron I was.”

“Shut up and fuck me,” I demanded, raising my arms above my head. “You want me, I’m here.”

The t-shirt made a wet splat as he tossed it out of the way in the corner of the shower. I hooked my fingers over the small ledge at the top of the shower wall while he stroked my chest until I cried out and thrust my hips toward him. “Either you take them off or I do.”

“What happened to making me work for it?” He laughed and sucked one nipple into his mouth. I let go of the ledge and tangled my fingers in his hair, barely aware of his fingers working at the waist of my wet jeans while the pleasure streaked furiously over my skin.

My body swayed as he tried to force the wet denim down over my hips. “Damn it, Lew!” He gave up on the jeans and pushed me against the tile, his fingers lacing through mine to trap my hands above my head. His tongue demanded entrance to my mouth and I yielded to him willingly. My jeans were tangled about the base of my hips, not low enough to be more than a tease. His cock laid a line of fire across my belly where he’d pressed himself against me and I whimpered into his kiss with need of it.

One last hard kiss, and then he bent to work at my jeans again. He took no mercy on me, and I didn’t ask for any. I felt the burn as he coerced the waistband down over my hips to the top of my thighs, shoved them down far enough to free my cock and leave my ass bare to his touch. My cock stretched out in front of me like it was reaching for him. Mike wrapped a hand around its length and stroked until I sagged against him, my legs trembling beneath me.

“Mike, please,” I begged.

“You want me?” he asked, his voice gone deep. It shivered down my spine and made my knees even weaker than they already were.

“Yes,” I whispered back and nipped at his lips until he kissed me again. His chest burned against mine and I dug my fingers into the muscle of his shoulders and shivered at the sensation of leashed power within them. “I don’t want to wait. I love you, Mike.”

“I never stopped loving you either.” He kissed me some more and put one hand on my ass, fingers working their way inside to tease at my entrance. “Fuck these jeans.” He spun me around to face the wall and I heard cloth tear, but it wasn’t nearly as important as the teasing flicks of his cock against my ass and my thighs as he shoved my jeans far enough out of the way that he could spread my legs a little. Not much, but enough that his fingers slid easily up inside me this time.

I cried out with pleasure as he pressed that spot inside, rubbing it until I was sobbing and shoving my hips backwards at him in mute pleading.

“Wait here,” he whispered in my ear. He grabbed my ass hard, then disappeared and I heard him rummaging in a cabinet while I pressed my face against the wall and tried not to cry with frustration. I knew he wouldn’t leave me long, because he’d never done it before. If my favorite thing was to lie back and let his mouth work its magic, his favorite thing was to bury himself balls deep inside me and stay there for as long as he could. I shivered as memories roared back to life, leaving me anxious and desperate.

“Mike?” I couldn’t help myself, I wanted him. Now, in any way. But most particularly in the way that made him happiest.

“I’m back.” I heard a click, and then the cool slipperiness as he fitted his fingers inside me again. “Just to be cautious.” He stroked his fingers in and out until my toes curled and my hips jerked in time to his movements.

“God, I love it when you do that,” I gasped. “I’d like it better if you used your cock.”

“You’ll get that too,” he promised with a low laugh and stroked a little faster, until I couldn’t make words anymore. “Ready to behave now?”

I shook my head. Behaving wasn’t the point, unless it was behaving badly. What a cheesy pair we were, but I loved it. It was something of ours, that we only did with each other.

The head of his cock pressed against me, his thighs pushing mine as far apart as the jeans would allow. “Okay?” His lips moved against the back of my neck, his hand spread flat over my belly where someday, I hoped, he’d put a baby in me.

“Fuck me,” I demanded and went up on my toes to make his entrance easier.

He answered without words, just his body as he shoved himself inside in one confident thrust. I heard him gasp and the hand on my belly twitched, then moved to tighten on my hip and hold me still against the impact as he pulled slowly out then slammed into me again.

Finally, my body had what it wanted and waves of pleasure began to roll through me as I twisted and rocked, determined to seat him so deeply he’d never leave me. It had been a long time—I’d slept with a couple of guys right after Mike had dumped me but none of them had ever made me feel like he did. When Mike and I had sex, I was all instinct and need and greedy desire. I wanted him to fuck me and touch me and hold me and I wanted to hear the noises he made as he found his own pleasure in my body.

Mike held me tight, one arm across my chest, the other still at my hip, holding me still as if he were afraid I’d try to escape him. Like that would ever happen—now that we were back together, I was more likely to hunt him down and ambush him in the bushes. Clobber him with a club and drag him back to my cave kind of deal. I felt the rough scrape of his stubble across the back of my shoulder as he ran his tongue across it and I turned my head for a kiss. His fingers sought out my nipples again, teasing them unmercifully until I slammed my palms against the shower wall, robbed of any coherent thought. I just needed to come. I needed him to make me come. On this, our first night back together like old times, I wanted to give myself to him in every way possible.

My frustration made him laugh. He bit my lower lip gently, then played kisses along my jaw and over my neck while his hips worked against me and his cock slid in and out, bumping over my prostate with each trip. “Scream for me, baby,” he told me and that was when I realized he’d been holding himself back. He tugged on my hips, shuffling us backwards until I had to lean forward to brace myself against the wall. When he had me where he wanted me, he reached around to play with my cock and balls until I was so damn close a single breath could have sent me over the edge, and then he began to fuck me in earnest.

I closed my eyes and let the sensations wash over me. Every thrust, every slam of his hips against my ass made my entire body vibrate and pushed me an inch closer to my climax. Vaguely, through the haze of arousal that clouded my mind, I heard my own voice, pleading with him to do it now, mixed with raw guttural noises that I’d forgotten I could make. Only Mike could make me sound like that—needy, desperate. Primitive.

And Mike himself, making noises halfway between a grunt and a gasp each time he thrust inside me, until he suddenly stiffened and cried out in triumph, pressing deep as he came. My arms shook under his weight, then collapsed when he reached around to stroke my cock, demanding that I come too. I leaned back against him and bowed to his commands and when I came, it was an explosion of light and sound and relief like I’d never experienced before.

Mike lowered us both to the floor of the shower stall. I cried out in protest as his cock slipped out of me—I wasn’t ready to be done or not be his yet—but he cradled me against him and whispered how much he loved me, thanked me over and over and promised I’d never regret this.

I punched him. Not hard, and just on the chest where there was so muscle to protect him. “Shut up.”

He snorted and I’d have been willing to lay money on it that he was grinning at me. “Yes, dear,” he said and now I knew for sure he was holding back laughter.

I punched him again. “And don’t you forget it.” My head fit perfectly into the space beneath his jaw and I let my body sag against his, his arms warm around me. Those damn jeans were still stuck to my legs. With a sigh, I sat up and began working them down my thighs. “You’ll sleep in the bed with me tonight?”

He leaned down to help me. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

I kicked the offending pants off into the opposite corner from my t-shirt. “Good. I don’t want to have to hunt you down in the middle of the night when I’m horny again.”

Mike laughed and pulled me back against his chest. “I’ll be right here, Lew. Stuck to you.”

I smiled and reached back to wrap my hand around the back of his neck. “Stuck to my ass anyway.”

“And you.” He kissed me, just under the edge of my jaw. “It’s always been you.”

“Same here.”

We stayed there in that warm rain for a few more minutes, then Mike quietly got us up, turned off the water, and we went to bed. Our bed, with both of us in it. And for the first time in five years, I slept contentedly in someone else’s arms.