MADS
We’ve been talkingabout ass-loving, but the shift in Anthony’s expression tells me he’s about to get a little more serious. I run my fingers through his hair and gently lift my chin, a gesture for him to say what he needs to say.
He’s shy as he begins to talk. “I…I’ve been with lovers I couldn't be myself around. They weren’t doing anything wrong, but…”
“Sometimes you just know.”
He nods. Gesturing between the two of us, he continues, “And that’s the opposite of how I feel with you. I’ve got this well-honed Edgerton persona with everyone because letting them in weakens me, in a way. I know that can’t make any damn sense, but…”
His words die off as he searches my eyes. I know what he’s looking for—permission to go there, get serious, dive into the deep with me.
“It makes perfect sense to me, Anthony,” I encourage, using small touches to relax and reassure him. “I try to be a little less guarded, maybe, but despite my sunny personality, I do have bad days. And there are moments in public, at the office, when I smile not because I’m happy, but because I have a reputation to maintain.”
He looks down. “I know. I was the cause of some of those fake-smile days, and I'm sorry.”
I wave my hands. “Water under the bridge. We got it figured out, and maybe that's the deal. We wear our armor when we walk around in the world, but with us, we agree to always be real. Even with the ugly shit.”
“Agree,” he says quickly.
I hold up a finger. “But…we need to be the most real with the disgustingly lovey shit. At least in private. Please and thank you.”
Anthony’s dimple makes a reappearance, and my face hurts from how hard I'm smiling. We kiss and then hold hands while walking to the bed. He lies down, and I sprawl out on top of him, and we luxuriate in kissing each other. And yes, it’s arousing, but it’s also something so much more.
Grinning against my lips, he asks, “You don't mind when I explore a little with my mouth?”
I shake my head, pushing my fingers through his hair. “Anthony, you have literally had your tongue up my ass. There is not a place on me that is denied to you. You want to suck on my eyelids? Great. Just make sure you clean your mouth between ass and eyelid, and I’ll be fine.”
He yanks me in close, laughing into my hair. “What the fuck am I going to do with you?”
I stretch up for another kiss. “You can start with loving me, and we can figure out everything else from there.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Grinning, he rolls on top of me, tangled in my legs as we look deeply into each other's eyes like some sort of disgusting romance movie. After a few moments, a thought occurs to me, a little more serious than we’ve been playing at.
He lifts his chin at me, curious. “Mads, you can ask me anything.”
I kiss his eyelids, sucking on them a little because I’m funny like that.
“Why do you need this Edgerton persona? Is it the same reason for all the rule-following?”
Pain lances across Anthony’s face. He rolls to his back, covering his eyes with an arm, breathing for a moment before looking at me again. “I told you who my mom was, right?”
“She worked for Luca’s dad,” I respond, trying to be delicate.
He nods. “You're very sweet, but I don’t need to skirt the reality of our situation with you. She was a sex worker. An escort.”
I wrinkle my nose, wishing I knew how to respond to something like that. Needing to understand, I sit upright in the bed and keep the pity out of my voice. “I might not have the most supportive parents, but I was raised in luxury. I don’t have any concept of what it would be like to grow up in that environment as a child. Will you tell me about it?”
Breathing deep, he sits up with me and takes my hands, his eyes slow to meet mine. I smile, making sure that all he sees is encouragement and understanding.
“There was a lot that was surprisingly normal. Mom was always there when I woke up in the morning and when I got home from school, and we had a neighbor who would stay over if she had an overnight. She only worked in the evenings, and I found out later, looking through her records, that she requested only one appointment per night.”
“You saw her records?”
“Luca took over after his father's death, and we’d been friends since Kindergarten. I asked for her records, and he gave them to me. Reluctantly, but still.”
“And what else did you find?”