Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 9

cataloguing every detail he'd forgotten in Cole's face and noting any changes. His face was a little paler, and his hair was a little longer than it had been back in July. He liked it. It was a little messy which made it a lot sexy. He couldn't wait to wrap his fingers in it.
    Cole could feel the weight of Michael's eyes roaming over his face and quickly down his body. He wanted to pull Michael's face against his and kiss him so bad, but this was a very public place and he didn't want to risk it. It pissed him the fuck off that he didn't feel free to greet his boyfriend like any hetero couple would. He had fought and sacrificed so much to stand up for what he believed, but he had also learned to choose his battles. And this was a time for celebrating and nothing was going to ruin that. "Come on. Let's get your bag and get out of here." Dropping his voice so only Michael could hear he added, "I want to kiss you so bad my lips hurt, and I have tinted windows."
    Cole stored Michael's suitcase in the trunk of his car and climbed in the driver's seat. They were on each other like lightening. Mouths fused. Hands grappling for something to hold onto. The kiss was so fierce it was nearly barbaric. Their teeth clashed, and their tongues fought for control. Cole could taste the metallic tang of blood.
    Michael left Cole's lips and traveled along his jaw, down the taut muscle of his neck. He sank his teeth into the flesh between his neck and shoulder. Not hard enough to leave a mark. Just enough to remind them both that Cole was his. "God I missed being able to taste you." He straightened back up in his seat and reached around to grab his seatbelt, clicking it into place. "All right. Where are we headed first?"
    Cole mirrored Michael's movements and put on his own seatbelt. "Well, I figured you'd want to drop your stuff back at my place and get settled in." Cole kept his head facing forward but slid his eyes toward the passenger seat as he slowly reached his hand down between his legs and cupped his hard on. "Plus, I don't know about you, but I don't think I'll be able to function until I have you naked and come inside you."
    "Jesus," Michael groaned, "let's go already!"
    It was about a twenty-five minute drive from the airport back to Cole's condo, long enough for their libidos to cool from fevered to simmering. It's not like sex was what was most important for either of them. It was just they had been able to talk and share their day to day lives for the past three months. Skype even allowed them the illusion of physical proximity. But it was just that. An illusion.
    Michael wanted to bury his nose in Cole's neck and breathe in the scent of cinnamon and vanilla that was Cole. He wanted to run his hands up and down the sinewy muscles of his arms as he braced himself above him. He wanted to feel Cole's warm breath on his chest, and his pounding heart against his ribs, when he collapsed on top of him. Nothing they could do with computers and cameras would ever come close to the real life intimacy of those shared sensations.
    By the time they were in the elevator of Cole's apartment complex, riding from the parking garage up to his fourteenth floor flat, Cole had his need to devour Michael in check. Part of it was being replaced by nervousness. This was his private space. His home. It held a lot of personal information about him. They had learned so much about one another in the short time they'd been together, but this was like upping the ante and Cole was not a gambler. Especially when his fragile heart was at stake.
    "This is a nice building. How long have you been here?"
    "I bought it about two years ago when my bakery really started taking off. I spent so much time and energy building my business and running it. I wanted some place to call my own at the end of the day, you know."
    "Yeah, I get that. I've spent my entire life in the same house. It's home." Michael shrugged his shoulders in a gesture that said, "It's me. Deal with it."
    Cole unlocked the door to his loft and stood back to usher Michael inside. The space was modern and open. He had chosen a dark espresso wood for the floors. His wall colors ranged from a dark, midnight blue accent wall in his bedroom to a bright, earthy turquoise in his living room that reminded him of the color of the ocean. The first thing he did when he moved in was paint each and every wall. He had grown up surrounded by the sterility of white walls, and he would never live that way