“My god, you’re unreal. I’ve been dying to get my hands on you forages.”
Nick swallows tersely. “Really? Ages?”
I chuckle, withdrawing my hands from their little exploration and planting them on his firm thighs. “Come on. Don’t tell me Iactuallymanaged to keep all of my eye-fucking a secret.”
His face pinkens as he looks away, and it's so cute it's unfair. “Wasn’t much of a secret,” he mumbles with a small snicker.
“What can I say? I’m an open book.” And being an open book includes making my intentionsvery,very clear. “I didn’t have ‘fuck in a frat house’ on my bucket list or anything, but are we gonna tick it off anyway?”
He chuckles. “Maybe notfuck.”
“You know what I mean.” All of my restraint dissolves as my misbehaving dick takes over. “I wanna hear more of your sexy moans. Can I please suck your dick?” My voice comes out a lot whinier than I wanted, which just goes to show how badly I need this.
I get a nod, which is a littletooterse for comfort. Tilting my head, I pause to give Nick an out. Maybe he drank a little too much, and he doesn’t…
Scratch that, his hands are on my chest! Oh,fuck yes. I take the hint and dive in for another kiss. He's closing his eyes, leaning back to relax, and he can bet on being real fucking relaxed once I’m done working him over. I haven’t been able to steal a good look at what he’s packing beneath his pants so far, so all I have to go off of is pure speculation.
He’s probably like most other guys, with a sensitive head and a huge weakness for sloppy deepthroating. Maybe he’s a whimperer too. There’s only one way to findout.
With hurried, desperate movements, I skim my hands up to his waist and?—
Nick pushes me away.
He’s gentle, but I take the hint and tilt backward to land on my ass. I blink at him, getting my bearings from the other end of the couch.
From his closed posture, up to his flushed neck, his kiss-bruised lips, and then his shell-shocked expression, what he thinks of all this is clear as day.
Shit.
“Nick, I’m sorry,” I blurt out, straightening up. “I totally misread this. I thought?—”
“No, you’re fine. I just… Shit. Sorry.” He runs his hands down his face, which is twisted up even more, before wincing and darting for the door.
And then he’s gone, leaving me alone in the bricked-up aftermath of my major, major screw-up.
CHAPTER NINE
NICK
Why do I always have to mess things up?
I’m lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, watching my bedroom grow lighter. If I’m being generous, I got maybe four hours of solid sleep last night, after running home with my tail between my legs and wondering why life chosemeto be weird and overly complicated.
Hell, I can’t even kiss a guy I like without freaking out, and kissing isfun.
Then again, this isn’t the first time something like this has happened, and it’s almost like these interactions arescripted. Guy likes me back. Guy gets me alone. I lead the guy on, and he makes a move.
The few times I went past that third step with someone else, elation turned to strange, unwelcome discomfort. Always somewhere between us making out and taking our clothes off, because that’s the way things naturally progress, irrespective of how I only want the first part.
Jesus, and the way Dean kissed me? He can fucking kiss. But the way he looked at me and touched me like I was a jug of crisp, clear water in the middle of the desert?
Yeah, that, and the way he told me straight-up how he wanted to suck my dick.
What kind of guy getsturned offwhen he’s offered a blowjob?
The kind of guy who doesn’t feel so much as a tingle of attraction down there when he makes out with someone he likes. Otherwise known as me.
Groaning, I roll over and wince as my body pins my morningwood into the mattress. I roll my eyes again—it’d be one thing if my sex drive matched my intimacy habits, but no. As luck would have it, I’m one horny-ass fucker who overthinks sharing this so-called gift with anyone else.
