CHAPTER SIXTY - ONE

NICK WALKER ©

I always held Enzo close whenever we were together, and it includes this moment also.

I sometimes get the fear that he might run from my arms and I can't explain where that feeling came from.

Maybe I wasn't wrong to feel that way. For a moment, it felt like I was about to lose him.

But he was here again, his tongue stuck in mine.

He pulled away from me and stared at my bleeding wrist. The cloth wrapped around it was already soaked with blood.

He let out a sigh and turned to leave, but I quickly grabbed his shirt.

He looked back at me and ruffled my hair, giving me a short smile before gently removing my hand from his shirt.

Then he walked out of the gym, leaving me alone.

I stared down at my wrist. It hurt, but I barely registered the pain.

My mind was too focused on Enzo.

I couldn't stop thinking about him.

I looked across the large gym and noticed cigarettes and ashes scattered across the floor.

Everything was a mess. It looked like he had been here all day.

What was wrong with him?

He returned with a first-aid kit and gently took my hand in his.

He loosened the soaked cloth and began cleaning my wound with care.

I watched his face as I winced from the sting.

Still, I couldn't take my eyes off him.

I watched him apply pressure on my wrist with a clean pad.

“Raise your arm.“ He told me and helped in lifting my arm above my heart.

His eyes softened as he gently cleaned my wound with clean water, staying in silence.

“What’s going on with you, Enzo?” I asked, breaking the silence.

He stayed quiet.

“Are you going to keep pushing me away?” I added.

I pulled my hand from his grip as he checked my wound. The bleeding had already stopped.

“I’m not done yet,” he said.

I took a deep breath and ran my uninjured hand through my hair.

“You’re not going to tell me what’s wrong?”

“I’m fine,” he said.

He reached for my hand again.

“Like hell you are,” I snapped.

“Just look at this place, Enzo. Does this look like you're fine?” I added.

“Nick…” he started, but I cut him off.

“One week, Enzo. I couldn't reach you for one whole week, and call me stupid if…” I stopped and looked straight at him.

The words caught in my throat.

“Call me stupid if all I wanted during those days was to see you again. I just wanted to be you because I couldn't think straight.”

I fell silent.

Enzo only stared at me.

He ran a hand through his messy hair and took a deep breath.

I could tell he had so much to say, but he couldn't seem to find the words.

“Please, tell me what's wrong,” I asked.

He sank his hand into my hair before raising my chin to kiss my lips.

I let out a slow breath.

I had missed this. I had missed having him close and feeling like, for once, things were okay.

“You really missed having me around, huh?” he asked.

“Sadly, I’m the only one who missed those moments,” I said softly.

“Is that what you think?” he asked and I looked up at him.

His thumb caressed my nape before his lips found its way on mine.

I wrapped my hands around his neck as he came closer, burying his face into my neck.

A moan escaped my lips as he gently bit my neck.

He pulled back and stared at my face.

Why did he stop?

I pulled him back to me and kissed him roughly, desperation knocking the air from my lungs.

His hand cupped my jaw, his thumb grazing my lower lip, while his other arm circled my waist, careful to avoid my braced limb.

He kissed me with a hunger that tasted of salt and longing, his tongue sliding against mine.

I groaned, my fingers clawing at the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer until there was no space left between us.

He broke the kiss, his breath hot against my ear.

"You have no idea how much I've wanted to see you," he whispered.

He lowered me onto a padded workout bench where I sat, his movements were slow.

He handled me like I was going to break if he mishandled me and… I didn't like it.

I reached out to his shirt and took it off, my hands slowly tracing his chest.

Only our breaths could be heard between us.

His hands found its way to my belt before unbuckling it. When he saw my injured wrist again, he paused, his expression softening into something pained.

I raised his chin up to look at me and kissed his lips.

“I won't try it again, I promise.“ I whispered and pulled his hand to unzip my trouser but he stopped and looked at me.

“Don't stop.“ I found myself saying before moving his hand to grab my cock.

I arched my back, a sharp gasp escaping me as he buried his mouth on my cock. He swirled and sucked until I was a shaking mess of nerves and wetness.

My hands went down his shorts and freed his cock, it looked massive, a thick vein pulsing along the shaft, glistening with a bead of pre-cum.

He stared down at me as I swallowed hard.

“We don't have to do this.“ He said with so much concern written on his face.

Right now, I don't know what I am doing. Thinking about it too much would only make me stop, and I didn’t want any of this to end.

If I was making a mistake, I would think about it after it happened.

“But I want to.“ I told him, my voice cracking as I pulled his face closer to mine to kiss.

I was never going to get tired of kissing those lips.

I felt something pressed against my already wet hoe, it was his finger.. I clung to him tightly, burying my head into his arm as I folded my lips to avoid moaning.

He slid his finger with a slow, agonizing glide. I felt my walls stretch to accommodate him, a full, heavy pressure that filled every void inside me.

"You okay?" he breathed, his voice strained.

"Don't stop," I whimpered.