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Shoving his hands into his pockets, he grinned down at me. “I had a lot to drink that night, but I remember your name, and I’m pretty sure you told me the same thing in the club. I’m Bennett. But you can call me Ben if you want. Most people do.”
Good. He hadn’t been too drunk to remember, then. “Ben.” Returning his smile, I clapped my hands together. “Let’s go. Because I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but it’s freezing, and I’m in serious danger of getting frostbite here. You don’t want that on your conscience, do you?”
He had the audacity to laugh at me. Allowing a heavy-looking duffel bag to drop from his shoulder, he crouched down and opened it up. “Here you go. This should keep you warm for now.”
My mouth fell open as he basically shoved a large bundle of soft fabric into my arms. When I shook it out, my mouth opened even further. It was a sky-blue hoodie with the LSU logo on the front. The number fourteen and letters spelling out “Archer”—Bennett’s surname?—were emblazoned across the back in large block lettering. “Is this your football hoodie?”
“Yeah.” Zipping up his bag, he rose to his feet. “You don’t have to wear it, but it’ll keep you warmer than that jumper you’re wearing.” His eyes flicked to my form-fitting fine-knit black jumper that was shot through with threads of glittering silver and blue, and his tongue darted out to lick his lips. I did a little pirouette, which made him laugh again, but I wasn’t about to pass up the chance of having him ogle me.
“Like what you see?”
“You’re a menace,” he muttered, shaking his head as he hoisted his duffel bag onto his shoulder. “Come on, let’s get that coffee.”
Drawing the hoodie down over my head, I snuggled into the thick, soft cotton. It was far too big for me, of course, but it just meant that I was that much warmer. The warmth didn’t matter to me anymore, though, because I was wearing Bennett’s football hoodie. With his name and number on it. There was no mistaking who it belonged to.
I bit back my smile, because if I let it out, it would become a deranged grin. We fell into step, and I noticed he shortened his stride, so I didn’t have to speed walk to keep up with his pace. Another thing tall people usually forgot about.
“You’re new to the team, then?” It was probably best to start the conversation with something easy. He already knew why I was here, and now I had to put him at ease before I reeled him in. Hopefully.
“Yeah. I was on the second team before, but they had a reshuffle, and me and Pete—another guy from the second team—got promoted to the main team.”
“I don’t know much about football. But you were great. Very sexy and, you know, the ball things you did. You were good at those.”
Another laugh. “I’m glad you think so.”
“You do? So you are interested in me?”
He stopped walking. We were still on campus, partway across a bit where there was grass and trees and benches on either side of us. Branches curved over our heads, making a dappled pattern on the paved path where the sunlight shone through them.
“Honestly. I… You’re… Has anyone told you that you’re incredibly forward?” Without waiting for a reply, he went on. “Look, I don’t know what you want from me. I think—” Cutting himself off with a groan, he removed his hands from his pockets, rubbing his palm across his face. “Fuck. I don’t know what to say,” he mumbled through his fingers.
Stepping up to him, I wrapped my hand around his wrist, gently tugging it away from his face. His cheeks were red, and his eyes were screwed shut. I wanted to kiss him so badly, but now was not the time nor the place, and maybe it never would be—although he hadn’t actually told me he wasn’t interested yet. What I needed was to reassure him. Despite my overwhelming attraction to him, the last thing I wanted was to make him uncomfortable or try to force anything.
“Ben. It’s okay. I know I’m forward, but I won’t push you for anything you don’t want or you’re not ready for. You don’t have to tell me anything, either, I promise. I just thought we had a moment in the club, and like I said, you’re hotter than the sun or some kind of nuclear explosion, so…you know. I thought I’d see if you wanted to take it anywhere.”
His eyes had remained shut throughout my little speech, but finally he opened them, focusing that intent blue gaze on me. “You’re really something else,” he murmured. Tugging his wrist from my unresisting grip, he shoved his hands back into his pockets. Biting down on his lip, he stared at me for a moment before he sighed. “Come on. Let’s start with coffee, okay?”
“We can start with coffee.”
CHAPTERTHREE
Bennett
Seated on a tiny leather sofa in the corner of the coffee shop, I stared into my mug, aware of the warm press of Niccolò’s thigh against mine. I still wasn’t entirely sure how I’d managed to get here—my head was spinning, in fact, but I hadn’t wanted to turn him down.
Looking at Niccolò objectively… He was gorgeous. A confident man who wasn’t afraid to speak his mind, or stalk people he was interested in, for that matter, all wrapped up in one small—compared to me—gorgeous package.
I watched as he dipped the tip of his index finger into the towering swirl of cream on top of his hot chocolate, his glittery blue nail disappearing under a layer of white. He lifted his finger to his lips, his tongue darting out to swipe the cream from his finger, before he inserted the digit into his mouth.
Tempting me.
I swallowed hard, shifting in my seat as my dick jerked in response to his provocative demonstration. Because it was a demonstration. As he hollowed his cheeks, fellating his finger, he made a soft noise that was almost a moan, his lashes lowering as his gaze slid to mine.
With an all too smug smile, he removed his finger from his mouth and delicately wiped it on a napkin, ending the tease and leaving me with a stiffening cock and a pounding heart.
“See something you like?” he purred.
“You should be illegal.” My voice was hoarse. What the fuck was happening here? I tore my gaze away from his mouth, fixing it on my mug once again. The question of whether I was simply mildly curious about guys seemed to have been answered—I highly doubted there were any straight men who’d get even a hint of an erection at the sight of another man sucking his own finger.
