Page 114 of Secrets and Lies
West moans softly over me as he nuzzles his face against my neck, and I push all thoughts about blacking out or losing control out of my head so I can enjoy the moment.
I’m not a touchy person, and I’m not big on cuddling or snuggling or anything like that, but I enjoy a little body contact after sex, and unlike the other times I’ve hooked up with someone, cuddles with West after an O just hit different.
Using the hold I still have on him, I shift my body weight to the side and roll us over so he’s under me and I’m on top with my hips still between his spread legs.
The move causes my dick to fall out of him, but it’s the awestruck expression on his face that catches my attention.
“How did you do that?” he asks, looking up at me like he can’t believe what just happened.
“What?” I ask as I reach under him to get the restraint off his wrists, not following whatever has him so enthralled.
“That rolling move. How were you so smooth? I always fumble when I try to pull it off and end up killing the mood.”
My own mood instantly darkens at the mention of his past lovers, chasing away the last of the afterglow as I release the tension locks on the restraints so I can get them off him.
This isn’t good. Getting jealous because he was going to call me Sam in his phone or wanting to put my fist through the wall because he mentioned having awkward sex with his exes means I’m emotionally attached to him, but that shouldn’t be possible.
I don’t believe in romantic love. I believe people feel something that they think is love, but it’s just strong chemistry and affinity. Familial love exists, and so does platonic love, but the moment you add sex to the mix, it muddies things, and that love becomes dependent on attraction and physical compatibility instead of being unconditional.
Because of this, I don’t get attached to people who aren’t family. But I’m attached to West, and nothing about what Ifeel for him is familial or platonic. This is completely different from anything I’ve ever experienced, and I have no idea what it means.
Instead of answering him and giving away just how much his question affected me, I finish pulling his restraints off, then grip the bottom of my mask.
He closes his eyes as I pull it up, and his kiss is soft and sweet and so tender it melts away the jealousy and unease from before.
We stay like that for a long time, just exchanging long, lazy kisses. Eventually, I break contact, and I know the dopey little smile on West’s kiss-swollen lips matches the one on mine.
He keeps his eyes closed, and I press a few soft kisses against his jaw and throat, prolonging the intimacy as I slowly work my way down to the neckline of his shirt.
I drop a kiss in the hollow of his throat, then reluctantly climb off him, pulling my mask back into place as I do.
He sits up, and I scoop his sweats and underwear up from where I tossed them earlier.
His eyes are still closed when I press the bundle of clothes into his hands, and I turn my back so I can get rid of the condom. When it’s in the trash and my clothes are back in place, I turn back to West.
He’s sitting on his bed with his hands folded demurely in his lap, but the tight set of his shoulders and the quick tap of his foot against the floor give away that he’s not as chill and calm as he’s pretending to be.
“I have no idea what to say.” He looks completely befuddled, then lets out a shrill giggle that sounds more like a release of nervous energy than an actual laugh. “Like, what’s the appropriate thing to say after something likethat?”
“You could thank me for giving you the best orgasm of your life,” I tell him as I retrieve my phone and the restraints fromwhere I tossed them on the bed. “Again,” I add as I tuck the items away.
He rolls his eyes and stands. “I don’t like when you loom over me like that.”
I shove him back onto the bed and climb on top of him, his wrists in my hands as I pin him down. “Are you so sure about that?” I ask as he gapes up at me. “I thought you were a fan of having me over you.”
“You’re an ass,” he says, but his breathy voice and wide, shining eyes take the sting out of his words.
“You like it.” I press my dick against his. We’re both soft, but the friction of my underwear moving against my oversensitive skin feels nice.
He makes a grumpy face, but doesn’t correct me.
Just for the fun of it, I press a kiss against his lips. The mask is between us, and it’s not really a kiss, more like bumping our mouths together, and the happy little snicker he lets out when I pull away warms something deep in my chest.
Just then, his phone pings with a notification of some sort, and just like that, the spell is broken, and the little haze around us dissipates.
“Aren’t you going to say thank you?” I ask innocently.
He glares at me. “Not happening.”
