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“Kissing can be a hobby too,” he says, clearly delusional. Because hours ago he was telling me no, telling me not to. Apparently, sleep has addled his brain.
“It can be,” I reply and then my eyes fall to his lips before crushing my mouth to his.
He groans lowly into my mouth, my tongue sweeping in and tangling with his. His hands are in my hair, holding my face against his as my hand works our dicks faster. He’s intoxicating. He’s addicting. I can’t fucking stop.
This was supposed to be something else, but it’s now become something more.
I can’t. I can’t.
Imust.
I grind up against him, thrusting my tongue into his mouth as he sucks on it, gasping and shaking as I bring us closer and closer to orgasm. I can’t think, can’t breathe as I impale him. I want to fuck him, want to slide my dick into his hole while I fuck his mouth with my tongue.
I want it all.
I shouldn’t, but I do.
His head tilts slightly, giving him a different angle as our teeth clash. He groans even louder as his fist tightens in my hair, and then I feel him shudder and shake, his cock exploding across mine. It sets me off, my own body jerking forward as I unload onto him.
And then the kissing tapers off, just slow licks and bites to each other’s mouths as we come down from our orgasms.
“Fuck,” he breathes. “Alec.”
The sweet way he says my name has reality knocking the breath out of me. What the hell am I doing here? Kissing Jude Martin? Holding him?
I slowly pull away from him, feeling the loss settle in my chest as I grab some tissues and hand them to him.
“I, um, I have to go,” I say, my voice gruff.
Jude frowns, looking confused, but I ignore it. Even if my chest aches at the thought. That was more than just fucking around. It was almost romantic.
“Was fun, Jude. See you around,” I mutter after I quickly pull my clothes on and walk to the door.
I glance back and see Jude, his eyes closed, his brow pinched.
It’s better this way anyways. This was never meant to be anything but revenge.
“You got in really late last night,” my grandma says when I shuffle into their house after helping my grandpa in the yard. I do have a full-time job, thank you very much, as a full-time IT professional for a large company in Des Moines. But since starting there and getting everything all set up, most of it is automated and virtual so I do very little in person. I do get paid a shit ton of money for very little work though, and I’m not complaining.
It’s why I have all this free time to clean gutters and mow lawns and make Jude come.
“Helen,” my grandpa mutters, grabbing a glass of water and handing it to me. “Leave the boy alone.”
“But I’m so curious,” she says with a twinkle in her eye. She’s been hounding me about finding someone. A nice boy. Too bad I don’t have a thing for those kinds of guys.
I know that look in her eye. She won’t give up until I give her something. So I do. Just a snippet.
“I was at the place on Hawthorn Street.”
“Oh, the rental. You were thereverylate,” she says, leaning against the counter and narrowing her gaze behind her glasses.
“Grams, seriously. I was just hanging out with Jude—” his name falls off my lips, and I see the change in my grandma instantly.
“Oh.Oh, the cute redheaded boy with the kids. Oh, he was a gem.” She places a hand over her heart with a sigh and my grandpa stares at me over her shoulder with a shake of his head. I went and did it now. But part of me wonders if I did it on purpose, if maybe I wanted her to know.
“Yeah, it’s not like that,” I say even though I feel like maybe it is. As I left his house, I felt an uncomfortable emotion filter through me.
Guilt.
