Whatever this is with this totally surprising guy.
SEVENTEEN
We should probably stop and maybe have a conversation about what the hell we’re doing, but I can’t seem to bring myself to do that. I’m lost in the sweet taste of Rhett. Of his soft, full lips trying to devour my mouth. Of our tongues dueling and his smaller but firm body underneath me. He’s every bit as hard as I am. And every time his cock drags over mine, a jolt shoots through my balls, the ache to come nearly overwhelming.
I kiss down over his jaw, nipping and biting and making him growl with need. Holy shit, that’s hot as hell. I brace my weight on one arm and lift the hem of his shirt until he gets the hint and helps me remove it.
My balls are physically aching for release, but I’m not about to rush seeing him like this for the first time. His pupils are blown, and his chest fills with air over and over again while he waits for my next move. He’s lean, not nearly as cut as I am, but his shoulders are well-muscled—probably from swimming—and his torso is a canvas of beautiful art.
He’s not totally covered, but his left ribcage has ink swirling over it, and both pecs are tattooed as well. I wonder if he designed the art because it all seems very Rhett. Abstract barbed wire and flames. Darkness he doesn’t realize is in reality his light.
The beacon that drew me to him.
Because Rhett is stunningly beautiful.
“Wow,” I breathe and kiss over each defined pec, brushing over the hard nipples, making his hips jolt upward.
“Grayson.” He’s just as breathless and desperate.
His fingers grip my hair as I slide down lower and lower, my cock throbbing, but I ignore it as I reach the top of his jeans and then kiss each hipbone. I flick open the button on his jeans, then look up to lock eyes with him. “This okay?”
With his immediate nod, I know he’s blissed-out because that’s very un-like him. I smile inwardly that I’m doing this to him, driving him crazy with want. I lower the zipper and push his jeans down but leave his dark boxer briefs on. He pulls me back up to him, losing his patience and kicking his jeans off as our lips meet again.
We kiss like that for what seems like forever, both of us moaning and grunting with desire and the frustration of needing more. “Have you ever done this?” I find myself asking. Why? I have no fucking idea.
He pulls back slightly to look in my eyes. “No.”
“I mean, with anyone? I know you said you weren’t ever attracted to anyone before, but . . .”
I watch helplessly as he gnaws on his bottom lip. “I haven’t. So, no. I haven’t kissed anyone or done anything.”
I still don’t entirely understand. Not that I need to label him or anything because I don’t, but I’m just . . . curious, I guess. “But you would like . . . ?” Why am I talking when my body is on top of his? “Have you ever even . . . ?” I glance down between us where his briefs are tented with the obvious erection I was grinding against moments ago, before I let my mouth start talking instead of continuing to kiss the hell out of him.
He shifts under me but doesn’t push me away. “What are you asking? I think we’re past the awkward stage, considering your hard cock is still pressed against mine.”
My hips thrust forward almost involuntarily at the reminder, and we both groan, his hands gripping my biceps, and I wonder yet again why the hell I’m talking. But there’s something more with Rhett, even if I can’t explain it. I want to know everything when it comes to him. And talking is so rare. I guess I’m taking my shot with him half-naked and pinned under me. “Have you been hard before? I mean, you said you didn’t think you were interested in sex . . .”
A small laugh escapes him, and I feel my cheeks heat because I’m sure that’s a really stupid question. “Yeah, I’ve been hard many times.” He’s not mocking me nearly as much as I thought he would, and he uses one of his hands to stroke my arm now instead of gripping it. “It’s hard to explain. I went through puberty like everyone else. I’d get completely unexplained boners and the urge to jerk-off all the time, but it wasn’t to the thought of anyone in particular. In fact, the idea of doing that with anyone else usually stressed me out.”
I nod as I try to understand and then nip along his jaw again, moving down to suck on his neck. “Maybe you’re just really, really picky.”
He playfully shoves me. “Can’t be that.”
I laugh because yeah, I walked into that one. Then my lips fuse with his again, our dicks not caring about me stopping to talk, both of us fully hard. He breaks the kiss only to tear my shirt off and toss it somewhere behind us. Our bare skin colliding feels unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.
“Jesus.” He drags a hand over my abs, finding each ridge and driving me insane in the process. “Have you done this before?”
Ah. The non-talker is suddenly chatty too. Weird.
I nip his bottom lip and shake my head, even though I guess technically, I’ve fooled around with a guy before, but nothing seems to matter now. “At summer camp, I got and gave a few hand jobs and blowjobs, but nothing like this.”
His palm lands between my pecs, and he pushes back slightly, a brow cocked in amusement. “What? When you were twelve? Fucking summer camp?”
“Sixteen, asshole. I was a counselor, and one of the other counselors and I fooled around a little. His family is even worse than mine, so I knew he’d be discreet.”
“That’s fucking sad.”
I shrug, because yeah, it is. Reputation is everything. It’s like our families see themselves as royalty or some shit. Must keep the bloodlines clean and procreate with other privileged humans. “Yeah, it doesn’t matter now though.” I kiss him again, deeply, relishing the feeling of his warm skin against mine.
“True.” His fingers grip my hair as he pulls me into him, our cocks brushing, and my mind nearly short-circuits.
“How do you want to come?” I nip and bite his lip and move lower. I want him any way I can get him, but I need him to tell me.
“I don’t know. I’ve never done anything before.” My eyes meet his, and I see his naked vulnerability. I push my sweats down and off but leave my briefs on. Still a little afraid if he sees my dick, he’ll run away for sure.
I move back up, dying to see his cock but thinking I need to take it slow. I trail a finger over his sharp cheekbone and then over his bottom lip. “We don’t have to do more than kiss. Or we can go back to watching television. I don’t care.”
It’s the truth, no matter how my body is revolting at my words. He shakes his head. “No. I think I might die if I don’t come soon. I want you. I just don’t know how it all works.” I grin, and he looks like he wants to punch me. “Shut. Up.”
I laugh and then kiss him softly as I let one hand drift down, down, down until I’m at the edge of his briefs. “Tell me to stop if you ever want me to.”
He shifts on the couch under me, letting his legs fall open slightly as I reach into his briefs and find his hot, hard flesh. My forehead rests against his, and I release a puff of air while he whimpers slightly as I explore the head of his cock, brushing over the leaking tip with my thumb. “Grayson,” he pants. “Please don’t stop.”