When the tremors finally subside, he collapses on top of me, all 230 pounds of him, a dead weight of muscle and bone and sweat. I can’t catch my breath. I wrap my arms around him, holding him tight. My cock is still inside him, softening now, but neither of us makes a move to separate. We’re just lying there, a sticky, tangled mess, our hearts hammering against each other’s chests.
I run my hands up and down his broad back, feeling damp skin and hard muscle beneath my palms. I press a kiss to his shoulder, tasting salt. He stirs, lifts his head, and looks at me. His hair is sticking to his forehead. His face is flushed, his eyes glassy. There’s a streak of his own cum on his cheek. I reach up and wipe it away with my thumb, then lick it clean.
He watches me, a lazy smile spreading across his face. “You’re a dirty little artist, aren’t you, Gavin Marsh?”
I shrug, a small movement under his weight. “You bring it out in me. Apparently.”
“Yeah, I guess so. Why did we wait so long to do this? I always thought… fuck, Gav. I didn’t know.”
“Me neither,” I whisper. “I had no idea it would be like that. North, that was… I don’t even have words."
“I’ve never felt anything like it.” He props himself up on his elbows, looking down at me. The movement makes my softening cock slide out of him. A rush of warm fluid follows, coating my thighs.
Neither of us says anything for a while. We just lie there, breathing, his eyes on mine. Then a notification from my forgotten phone buzzes on the floor, cutting through the haze.
“Can you please delete that stupid profile?” I say.
He rolls off me, flopping onto the mattress with a groan. The bedsprings creak in protest. “Yeah, I think we’re done with that. Mission accomplished, right? I got you laid.” He laughs at his own joke. “And I’m not sure I want to share these newfound talents of yours with the world anyway.”
“Thank God. I’m not built for the Bangr lifestyle.” I stretch, feeling sore and sated and weirdly clean, even though I’m a sticky, cummy mess. “I’m more of a one-man kind of guy.”
He turns on his side to face me, propping his head up on his hand. “Oh, yeah?” He runs a finger down my chest, swirling it through the cooling mess on my stomach. “And who might that one man be?”
I feel my cheeks flush. “I don’t know. Some jock. He’s a little loud. A little reckless. A little too popular for his own good.”
“Sounds like an asshole,” he says, his finger tracing a circle around my navel. “You can do better.”
“Nah. He’s perfect for me.”
He leans in, and we kiss for a long while. Softer now. Slower. When we finally break apart, he rests his forehead against mine.
“So, there’s still a lot of boxes to unpack,” he says. “And I know you don’t like to procrastinate.”
“Fuck the boxes.” I climb on top of him, straddling his waist. “I’m ready for another round.”
“Jesus, Gav.” But he’s already hard again, his cock rising to press against my ass. “You’re insatiable.”
“You better get used to it,” I say, rocking my hips against him. “You know, yesterday, I thought rooming with you was a mistake. I thought you were the wrong roommate for me. That I could only handle you in small doses.”
“Ouch.”
“But I want you in big doses, North. Big, big doses.”
“Oh, trust me, Gavin. You can have all the doses you want. As many as you can handle, and then some.”
EPILOGUE
TWO MONTHS LATER
“Gavin, hey!”
I look up from the avocados. Staci McPherson is standing at the end of the produce aisle, a basket hooked over one arm, her blonde hair pulled back in a high ponytail. She’s wearing a sorority sweatshirt and leggings. She’s just as pretty as I remember. An All-American beauty. And I feel absolutely nothing.
“Hey, Staci.” I put the avocado down. “How’s it going?”
“Good! Just grabbing stuff for the house. We’re doing a girls’ night.” She holds up her basket. Wine, chips, a pint of ice cream. “You? I feel like I never see you around campus anymore.”
“Yeah, I’ve been pretty busy.”
