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“Are you okay?” I ask Deacon. “You don’t seem all that…enthusiastic to be here.”
He winces and his expression turns apologetic. “I’m sorry for leading you on tonight. Trust me, it’s not that I don’t want to have sex again—I swear, I changed my mind about this about five times on the way over here—but we just can’t.”
“Because it’s inappropriate?” I ask, arching a skeptical brow. I don’t really understand how the text exchange earlier is okay, and sucking my dick in his classroom is okay, but fucking me is crossing a line.
Deacon shakes his head. “No. I mean…yeah, they don’t exactly encourage us to get involve with parents, but that’s not what my real issue is.”
My brow furrows in confusion. “So what is it?”
He lets out a heavy sigh. “You don’t actually wantme.You just want my cock.”
My lips curve in a wry smirk. “It’s a really great cock. I’m actually starting to think it might have magic powers or something given the way it’s been invading my thoughts lately. Never had that happen before.”
“Yeah, Tanner, I know,” Deacon grates out, thrusting a hand through his dirty blond hair in obvious exasperation.
I stare at him in confusion. “You’re upset that I’m complimenting your dick?”
He closes his eyes for a moment, letting out a slow breath, before opening and hitting me with a look of…disappointment? Is that what I’m seeing right now?
“I tell you that I don’t want to have sex again because you’re only interested in my dick, and you respond by waxing lyrical about my dick.”
I just stare at him, feeling confused as hell. All this talk about his cock is making my brain function fritz out. “So…you don’t want me to like your cock?”
He lets out a soft breath of amusement, shaking his head. “I don’t care if you love my cock, Tanner. Dream about it all you want. Write poems, paint artwork, name a fucking constellation after it if you want to.”
Okay, let’s not go that far. I’ll settle for having it in my ass again, though.
“What I care about,” Deacon continues, “is that youonlywant my cock. That you only want cock, period, and at the moment it just happens to be mine you’re fixating on.”
I frown at him. “Well, yeah. But you knew that already. I told you before anything happened with us I just need to be fucked sometimes.”
He nods. “I know. And I’m not saying you hid anything. I knew what the deal was and I wanted to have sex with you anyway because I’ve been attracted to you since the first time we met,” he admits as a tinge of red colors his cheeks. “But like I said the other day, it’s rare for me to do stuff like that.”
Crippling disappointment floods through me. He did mention the other day that he doesn’t usually hook up; that he prefers to stick to relationships. But after the blow job he followed that spiel up with, I’d hoped their might be some wriggle room.
I rub my fingers against my forehead as the tension starts to build. “I can’t do a relationship, Deacon.”
“I know,” he says gently. “I’m not asking for that.”
“Then what the hellareyou asking for? Because you really seemed to like fucking me last week.”
“Sex,Tanner. Call it sex,” he demands, sending me a hard look. “Not fucking. Not getting a cock inside you.Sex.”
I frown at him in utter confusion. “Why is that important?”
He takes a step closer, an intense expression on his face as he asks, “I want to know—do you consider what we did last Monday night to be sex? The same way you’d consider penetration with a female partner to be sex.”
Sex?God no. Maybe when I was a kid I thought sex was simply about getting tab A into slot B, but as a grown man? Hell no. There’s way more to it than that: kissing, and touching, and foreplay…
Why is Deacon even asking me this? Of course I don’t consider being fucked from behind like a dog in heat to be in any way similar to regular sex. I shake my head slowly, still feeling baffled. “I’m not gay.”
“ButIam,” Deacon says, speaking slowly as though I need the fact reinforced for some reason. “And being a man who sleeps with other men doesn’t mean I don’t crave intimacy, and connection. I love a good hard fuck as much as anyone, but I’m not a freakin’ robot you can just turn on whenever you want a dick. When I’m with someone, I want them to actually want to be withme,and not just a part of my body. So as much as I loved havingsexwith you,” he says, emphasizing the word to make his point, “I can’t be your walking dildo.”
And it finally sinks in, making me feel like absolute shit. How could I not have realized sooner this is what the issue was? And tonight—he had to spell it out to me, what, about eight times? I can go on and on about how I’ve never had complaints from other guys and that I’m always upfront about what I want before a hook-up. But Deacon was always different; from his talk of inappropriateness, to the way he rushed to his knees the second he glimpsed my cock, and the way his hands roamed all over my body. Even finding a condom to make sure I was comfortable moving ahead…it was completely different. He’s completely different. And he definitely deserves to be treated better than the way I have been lately.
Deacon must see the change in my expression, because his own tightly-held features soften and he hits me with a gentle smile. “Tanner, just to be clear, I’m not judging you. I mean…I don’t really understand the whole stress relief thing, but if that’s something that helps you, then so be it. I just can’t be your stress ball anymore.”
I nod. “I get it. And I’m sorry for how…insensitive I’ve been. I suppose it doesn’t mean anything to you that it’s not just the thought of your dick in my ass that’s been running circles in my brain lately. I keep thinking about those blow jobs as well. Especially since Monday…”
