Never a Hero

him there while I marveled at the ecstasy of it. While I reminded myself to breathe. Then I let him go, and he started to move. Up and down while I lay helpless beneath him, overwhelmed by the pleasure of it. It was better than I’d ever imagined. So much better than masturbation. It wasn’t as simple as the pure sexual pleasure of my cock in his mouth. It was a joy that went beyond the physical. A warmth that filled me from the inside out. It was believing I was normal, and knowing I was desired. It was the newfound hope that my life really could be more. But more than anything, it was about Nick—his hands on my hips, his weight on my body, his hair tangled in my fingers. It was about trusting him. About feeling safe and cherished and utterly at peace with the man who had so readily become my hero.
    He released my cock and moved up to kiss me. It was deep and passionate, and I wrapped my arms around him, the ruined one and the good one both, and I let him ravage my mouth. I loved the taste of him. The urgency of his kiss and the gentleness of his touch. I sighed as he fingered my nipples. When he reached for my cock, I moaned, pushing toward his hand. My climax was close, an ache deep in my abdomen, a glorious pressure in my balls.
    “Nick,” I whispered, not wanting it to end, but also not wanting to lose it at an inopportune moment.
    “I know, hun. I’ve got you.” He moved quickly down again to roll his tongue around the head of my cock, and when I gripped his head, he took me in, swallowing me deep once again.
    My hips bucked. A hoarse cry built in my throat. I thrust into the heat of his mouth. Once. Twice. And then I was climaxing, pumping into him, feeling as if he was pulling it out of me. I spasmed again and again, emptying myself, and still he held me, sucking me, moaning as he swallowed my seed.
    I’m no longer a virgin.
    Others might have quibbled over the correctness of that statement since it had only been oral sex, but I wouldn’t have listened. I laughed with the joy of it. I wasn’t a virgin. Not like I had been. And most importantly, Nick had been my first.
    He suddenly loomed above me, smiling. “What’s so funny?”
    “Nothing. Oh my God, Nick.” I pulled him down and kissed him again. “That was . . .” I floundered for a word that could actually capture how amazing I felt.
    “Fun?”
    I laughed. “That’s a bit of understatement, but yeah.”
    He smiled and kissed the tip of my nose, then flopped down on the bed next to me, staring up at the ceiling, his hand resting on my hip. He sighed happily.
    “What about you?”
    His laugh was sheepish. “I’m good,” he said with obvious embarrassment, “although I made a hell of a mess in my pants.”
    I feared my smile would split my face in two. I’d been worried that he hadn’t enjoyed it as much as I had, that he was doing it as some kind of favor, but now I knew the truth. The idea of him coming while he sucked me made me giddy.
    “There are clean boxers in the top drawer.” I felt silly as soon as I said it. It wasn’t like he had far to go to get his own pants. “Unless you’d rather go home.”
    “I think I will go downstairs to change, but I’ll come back. If that’s okay with you.”
    My smiled managed to grow even bigger. “I’d like that.”
    “Can I bring the girls?”
    “Of course.”
    I climbed under the covers. The alcohol made me sleepy. Slaked lust made me feel heavy and boneless. I quickly fell asleep, rousing only a bit when Nick came back in with the dogs. I heard them sniffing around the room. Nick climbed under the covers with me.
    I moved over, seeking the warmth of his body. He put his arm around me, but he was stiffer than I expected.
    “We need to talk,” he said.
    “Tomorrow,” I mumbled, and plummeted back into the abyss.

    I woke feeling like I’d been zipped into a mummy-style sleeping bag designed for a ten-year-old. It took me a second to figure out why I couldn’t move. Bert lay on top of the blankets on one side of my legs, and Bonny on the other, pinning me in. On the other side of the bed, Betty lay stretched across the pillow. I didn’t see Nick.
    “They’re not supposed to sleep on the bed,” Nick said from behind me. “But they do it anyway.”
    I turned to find him sitting in the chair in the corner of the room. Normally it was the catchall for my laundry, but he’d pushed the stack of clothing to the floor. It was dark enough in the room to hide his expression