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It shouldn’t have happened because he’s my boss. It shouldn’t have happened because he has to be two decades older than I am. It shouldn’t have happened because he’s not entirely sure who he is.
Not because it was wrong like he said. Not because it was disgusting like he’s suggesting. Not because it’s a fucking sin like the fucking church has taught him.
“I agree,” I start, feeling my brows set into a pinch. “Maybe not for the same reasons you do.”
He narrows his eyes at me as his jaw forms a tight angry line. “I’m not gay.”
“I never said you were,” I say, raising my hands in the air to appease him. “I’m bi, so I get it—”
“No. None of that,” he snaps, his lips curled in disgust as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m straight. One hundred percent straight.”
“I don’t want to be a dick, Jarred, but it sure didn’t feel like that,” I snort, barely able to keep the sarcasm out of my voice.
“What did it…” His face cools and his shoulders drop. I don’t know if he realizes it, but he’s moved closer to me. He licks his plump lips slowly, and I wonder if he knows just how fucking tempting that is. “What did it feel like?”
I raise both brows at that. “You really want to know?”
It takes him a second, but he slowly nods, and I can’t and won’t ignore the way his eyes stay fixated on my lip ring. “Yes.”
I was content to just lay everything out on the table and pretend the kiss never happened. I was okay with not adding to his confusion and walking away. I was even fine with him resigning himself to live in denial, but now I’m not.
He’s asking me to tell him what that kiss did to me, what it felt like to be pressed up against him, and maybe he’s asking me this because he can’t bear to say it himself.
“It felt like…you wanted it to happen,” I whisper, drawing my eyes up and down his figure as I take up his space. “I don’t know if you realized it at the time, but those cute little whimpers you let out in my mouth turned me the fuck on. It’s like you were begging me to kiss you, begging me to touch you, maybe even begging me to fuck you.”
He stutters out a breath and I can see a faint sheen of sweat lining his forehead. “No, I could never…”
“My wet chest pressed against yours and all that sticky skin felt amazing,” I breathe, closing my eyes in remembrance of his damp skin dragging against mine. I crowd him just a little bit more until his back hits the metal racks behind him. “I could almost feel the ridges of your cock as I ground myself against you. If I had kept dry fucking you, would you have come in your pants?”
“I—I’ve never…”
“Never what, Jarred? Come in your pants?” I ask, gently lifting one finger to trace it down his chest, fingering one of his pant loops as I pull him flush against me. “You’ve never gotten yourself wet and messy, so fucking turned on you couldn’t wait to whip that dick out and beat it?”
He groans and drops his head back and the metal rattles violently. He might not notice that his hips are rolling in the air, seeking out my body, seeking out relief. “Noah…”
“What do you want? You want me to kiss you?” I tease, leaning forward to rest my lips against his ear. “You want me to touch you?” I give his earlobe a gentle tug with my teeth. “Just give me the word, Jarred, and I’ll suck you so good.”
His hands latch onto my shoulders, but he doesn’t push me off. “I don’t want it.”
“Don’t? This cock tells me a different story,” I say, finally giving into my body’s needs and rubbing my thumb up and down his crotch, his hard cock tenting the material.
“Can’t!” he shouts, his voice breaking at the word. He sucks in a sharp breath and scrambles away from me, holding his clipboard over his clothed dick as he reaches for the doorknob. “Ican’twant it!”
Before I get a chance to say anything, he’s out of the hut. He’s leaving a trail of sex and lust in his wake, and I palm my cock over my pants at the serious blue balls I’ve given myself. Sure, he’s in denial, but there’s no way in hell he’s straight.
And just maybe he wants me to help him see that.
CHAPTER9
NOAH
I’m exhausted. Who knew that Catholics had such high stamina?
My smoker’s lungs burn as I make my way back to my bunk. We took the new campers on a hike around the lake, and nobody bothered to tell me that said hike would takefour hours. Four fucking hours in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by pre-teens, preyed on by bugs and getting dirt where dirt should never go.
“Noah!”
I turn around to the counselor who called my name. Grace, I think? She runs up to me, hair in a perfect ponytail, looking like we didn’t just walk twelve miles. “’Sup.”
