Roomies in Arms - Part 13

Everyone in this story is 18+

The sunlight leaked in rudely through the slats of Lex’s blinds, catching on the mess we’d made: a rumpled bed, a glittering trail of clothing, and his desk—which I was fairly certain still had fingerprints on it. Possibly mine. Possibly in noodle grease.

Lex was still asleep, mouth parted, curls a little chaotic, arm heavy across my waist. He smelled like salt and cotton and whatever aftershave he’d overused the night before. And heat. Just warmth, everywhere.

My mouth was dry, head foggy, but something tugged low in my gut—an ache, a curiosity, a need to close the gap that last night had opened. I turned slowly, shifting under his arm, watching his face for any flicker of waking.

Nothing. Dead to the world.

Good.

I slid lower beneath the covers. Paused when I reached his stomach. Ran my fingers lightly over the light trail of hair there, just to watch his breath hitch. He didn’t stir. But he was already half-hard—lazy and heavy against his thigh, the way boys are in the morning without even trying.

I touched him. Just the lightest brush. Lex twitched. His eyes cracked open. Glazed. Then focused.

“Oh?” he rasped, voice morning-wrecked. “This is new.”

“Shh,” I said, a little giddy and horrified all at once. “Just—let me.”

I leaned down and took his whole morning glory in my mouth.

He exhaled. Hard.

My lips weren’t sure what they were doing at first—my teeth definitely bumped something they shouldn’t—but I adjusted quickly. He was warm and velvet-slick, and the sound he made when I flattened my tongue on the tip sent a rush straight to my spine. His hand slid into my hair, not to guide, just to anchor as I knead his bollocks.

I pulled back, licked the head, then took him deeper. My throat fought it; I blinked through the sting. But Lex made this noise—sharp and desperate—and I did it again.

"Is this your first time?" he managed, breath catching. "Because this is—fuck—Seb."

I hummed around him, because I’d read that somewhere once, and he cursed again, spine flexing, his thighs bracketing my head now.

He didn’t last long. I didn’t want him to. I wanted to taste it—and the second that thought hit, he gave in.

He let go right there in my mouth, thick and overwhelming, and I didn’t spit it out.

His hand tightened, breath fractured. Then he was pulling me off—not to stop, but to look at me. His face flushed, eyes wild, chest rising like he’d run a sprint.

“Okay,” he said hoarsely. “Wow. Good morning to me.”

I wiped my mouth on the corner of the sheet and looked up at him, feeling oddly smug.

“Don’t get used to it,” I muttered.

Lex grinned like the Cheshire Cat. “Too late.”

He grabbed me, hauled me upward, kissed me hard and messy and still half-laughing. Then he flipped us, pinned me beneath him, breath hot against my jaw.

We were quickly tangled in the covers again—Lex’s arm around me, his breath warm on me, my legs too sore to pretend I had any plans to move—when the door creaked open without warning.

"Jesus Christ," Nick's voice called from the hallway. "It smells like sex and soy sauce in here."

I froze. Every muscle in my body tried to die at once.

Lex didn't even flinch. "Yeah, it kinda does."

Jax followed behind, snorting. "We can’t say we are surprised. We brought coffee. And a warning that Brady is already up and talking about starting a podcast."

I pulled the covers up to my chin and muttered something unintelligible.

Lex gave me a squeeze. "He's just shy."

Nick raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I can see that. Really came out of his shell, huh?”

I closed my eyes. "I hate all of you."

Lex kissed the side of my head. “He means thank you for the coffee.”

Nick set it on the nightstand. “Sure he does.”

And just like that, the morning got even more unbearable—and somehow, despite the shame crawling over every inch of my skin, I wasn’t sure I’d trade it for anything.