Then out…
In…
Out…
I surrendered to the teasing nature of his lovemaking and wrapped my legs around him, savoring the way he felt inside of me. Like his cock belonged there rather than being a temporary visitor. It was the exact opposite of the way August and I had sex earlier in the day, yet it was every bit as sexy.
We must have made love there in his studio for an hour. More than an hour. My orgasms were small, but frequent. Each one built a little stronger in power, too. And when Michael finally quickened his breathing, his skin glistening with sweat and his eyes heavy behind a lock of blond hair that had fallen across his face, I stared deeply into his crystal-blue eyes to savor every moment as he came.
It was nearly seven when we collapsed in bed together. For a long while, neither of us moved or spoke as we caught our breath.
“I feel… like I ran a marathon,” I breathed. We were so close that I hardly needed to speak above a whisper. “And I didn’t even do most of the work!”
“Work.” Michael rumbled deep within his chest. “If that’s work, then I’d love to find a job where I get to do that all day.” He chuckled as if it were a joke.
If only you knew, I thought.
He reached over and grabbed his cell phone from the side table. “What are you doing?” I asked.
“Ordering us a pizza. Is that cool?”
I leaned over and gave him a long, salty kiss. “That’s the sexiest thing a man has ever said or done for me.”
“I’m getting…” He lowered his voice to a romantic tone. “Pepperoni.”
I sucked in my breath. “Keep going. I’m close.”
After he had ordered the pizza, he got up to take a shower. I got up and joined him, lathering soap all over his huge body as we washed away the sweat of sex together. When we were clean, we returned to the bed, but didn’t bother putting our clothes on. Michael played some music—the New Pornographers, the band was called—and we cuddled in bed.
“I have to admit. My entire hierarchy of needs is being met right now.”
“Food, shelter, sexual gratification,” he said. “Don’t need much more than that.”
“And a stable job,” I pointed out, dragging my fingertip across the lines of his abs. “That’s the best of all. I’ve spent years dreaming about that. I know it probably sounds silly, but that’s really important to me. I feel like I’ve made it.”
Michael shook his head. “Not silly at all. I know exactly how you feel, actually.”
“Yeah?”
He nodded. “I didn’t have any stability when I was growing up. We lived in a trailer, and my mom was constantly juggling which bills she could pay each month, and which ones could be delayed a little longer. It always felt like we were staying a few days ahead of homelessness. I haven’t lived in that trailer for nearly a decade, but my brain is still there. Constantly waiting for the wrong envelope to come in the mail and fuck everything up.”
“That’s awful,” I whispered.
He stared at the ceiling while stroking my thigh. “It still affects me. I don’t like spending money. I meal-prep most of my lunches and dinners, except when I take a client out for lunch and get to expense it on the NMCF.”
“Am I triggering you by making you order a pizza?” I said it gently, half-joke and half-serious.
“I don’t mind splurging on take-out every now and then,” he reassured me. “And I make sure to keep a wardrobe of nice work clothes, since I need them for my job. But aside from that… I try not to spend money. I put everything away in a savings account. I’ve been doing that since I started at this job years ago, but it still never feels like enough.” His voice dropped until I could barely hear him. “It still doesn’t make me feel secure.”
“Even after you bought a house for your mom in Phoenix?” I asked.
“Even then. I paid cash, so it’s all taken care of… but she’s still responsible for property tax. And home insurance. It feels like I’m one screw-up away from messing my life up, and hers, too. I know it’s an irrational fear, but I can’t make it go away, no matter how hard I try.”
I wrapped myself around him and did my best to comfort him with my body. “Thank you for sharing that.”
“I haven’t told many people that,” he revealed. “Not even August, who always says I’m too cheap. But I felt like you would understand.”
“I do. I wish I didn’t.” I sighed. “That’s why I’m saving up to buy a house for me and my parents. To create that security you’re looking for.”