Wes tried to stand, but Braden put a hand on his chest and held him down. Wes looked up at him with those whiskey-colored eyes of his, and they made that punch to his chest happen again. Not the kind that hurt; just letting him know someone was there.
“I’ll go.” He leaned forward and kissed him. “You’re already half naked, you might as well finish. Take your clothes off and wait for me. I really want your cock in my mouth again before I fuck you.”
Wes groaned as though it was painful for Braden to leave him. He had to admit he liked the sound. It seemed as though he liked a lot of what came out of Wes’s mouth, and how he used it.
Braden scrambled to his feet and went out the door. He made it all the way to his truck before he realized he didn’t have his keys. “Fuck!” He ran back to the house, and found them on the floor by the door where he must have dropped them.
His interior light was out, so it took him a few minutes to find the phone where it slid under the seat. His dick ached the whole time. The things he couldn’t wait to do to Wes. He told the man he wanted to suck him off, but he wanted his ass, too. Wanted to taste it before he fucked him, because he had yet to do that.
He already started unbuttoning and unzipping his pants as he turned for Wes’s small room.
And stopped in the doorway. Wes had made it as far as getting his pants off before he passed out in a pair of black boxer-briefs. The tight ass that Braden had just been thinking about right there. Long muscles flexed in his back as he lay with his head to the side, dead to the world.
Aaaannnd, there went his erection. Not that he didn’t still want to fuck Wes senseless, but he couldn’t wake him, either. It wasn’t right.
Grumbling the whole time, Braden pulled the blanket up and covered Wes, thought about climbing into bed with him but knew he wouldn’t do that. It wasn’t right to stay when he knew Wes didn’t do that.
He made sure the ringer was up on Wes’s phone before setting it on the bedside table. “I’m not done with you yet. You owe me,” he groaned out. But then he stopped, looked at him. Saw the lines in his forehead relaxed as they only ever really were when he came. Or, Braden guessed, while he slept. Saw him relaxed in a way Wes rarely let himself be.
The man tried to carry the world on his shoulders, and one day it would break him.
“Sleep well.” Braden ran a hand through Wes’s hair, watched him for another second, looked at the tattoo on Wes’s arm that surprised him for some reason. Wes didn’t seem like the tattoo type. Finally, he hit the lights on his way out. He made a quick stop in the kitchen first. Afterward, he locked up Wes’s house and went home with an aching cock, knowing it wouldn’t be the first time he jacked off to the thought of Wes.
***
Wes’s eyes burned as he slowly pried them open. The second the sandpaper eased up, the night before came back to him.
He’d gotten drunk.
Danced with Braden.
Had a good time with Braden.
Really wanted to be fucked by Braden.
And then had passed out on Braden. Well, not on him, unfortunately, because then maybe that would have meant he’d gotten thoroughly fucked.
Groaning, he rolled over to see his phone on the bedside table. At the same time, he realized he was covered up, the lights were off, and Braden was gone. He could have stayed. Probably should have stayed. But he hadn’t. Because I told him I don’t stay the night...
He groaned again when he realized it was only six a.m. What the hell was he doing up so early?
There were no calls from Lydia. Unable to go back to sleep, Wes pushed out of bed. His first stop was the bathroom to brush his teeth.
He could have woken me up. Why did he let me sleep?
The lights in the rest of the house were out, too, no doubt another Braden move.
He struggled to understand the man sometimes. He was full of contradictions. So carefree and wild in so many ways. He mostly thought about having fun, and other than work, he didn’t have any responsibilities. But then in other ways...hell, had he ever really known someone who thought about others as much as Braden did? From showing up at the service, to helping with Jess, and the way he respected Wes and his fucked up ways.
“Six is way too early to be thinking so hard,” he mumbled on his way to the kitchen. Wes stopped when he saw the note on the coffee pot.
Just push Start.
Chuckling to himself, he pushed the start button and, sure enough, coffee started brewing. He would have never thought to do something like that for someone. But Braden had.
For him.
Wes opened the cabinet for a coffee cup.
