“I won’t.” I grip him in my hand, wrapping it around his impressive girth, dying to taste him but taking baby steps.
He fucks into my fist, and we both moan when I take his mouth with mine, kissing him desperately as my hand glides over his cock, using his precum to make things just slippery enough while I rut against the couch like a madman.
We’re both chasing a release, kissing while his hands roam over my bare back and move down to my ass as I thrust against the couch and picture the perfect cock in my hand. It’s bigger than I expected, given that he’s smaller in stature, but it’s not monstrous. I have no doubt it’s fucking perfect.
“Fuck, I’m close. Please don’t stop,” he pants near my ear as he pulls me closer to him by my ass.
“Yes. Let go, Rhett. Come. I want to feel you.”
His cock jerks in my hand as his hips thrust upward into my tight fist. “Yes. Jesus. Fuck, I’m coming.” He sounds almost surprised as I increase the speed of each stroke, losing myself to the sensations.
His warm cum shoots out, covering my hand as a harsh cry escapes his lips. I can’t take it anymore. My balls draw up, and my cock twitches with my own release letting loose in my boxers.
That’s going to suck later. But right now, all I can do is kiss his sweet lips, swallowing every sound of pleasure and buck my hips, leaning into our mutual release.
“Holy. Shit.”
My body drapes over his, my face in the crook of his neck as we both try like hell to catch our breath.
But then, I hold mine when I realize he could very well freak out on me right now, after we’re both sated and mostly naked against each other.
Please don’t kick me out, Rhett.
I don’t know if my heart could take it.
EIGHTEEN
Holy. Shit. Was that real?
I shift a little under Grayson’s weight and know, without a doubt, that was very real. I’ve never felt like that in my entire life. I can feel his breath against my neck as I try to get my own breathing regulated.
It surprises me he hasn’t said anything. Is he freaking out? I mean, he said he was gay, and he’s been with another guy. This isn’t new for him. But maybe . . .
Maybe he’s still freaking out, afraid I’ll tell the whole school or something.
I grasp the sides of his head and lift him so he’s looking into my eyes. I see no hint of the playfulness that’s usually there. Instead, he looks really worried. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
He looks surprised by my question. “I’m fine.” His blue eyes search mine. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” I lean my head back a little to rest it against the couch but continue holding his in my hands. “I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard.”
He startles a little but then grins. “I haven’t either.” He looks almost bashful, his voice nearly a whisper when he says, “Please don’t kick me out, Rhett. Not yet.” I look at him in horror, my eyes widening, and his voice remains a quiet plea. “I’ll go if you want me to, but please, not right away.”
Shit.
I sit up a little but hold him firm in my grasp, my thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. “I don’t want you to leave. Why would you think . . . ?” Right. Because I’m the dick who kicked him out after we kissed.” I try to soften my always harsh gaze. “I want you to stay for a while. Talk more.”
The surprise in his eyes nearly guts me. God, I’m such a dick.
“Okay.” He sits back on his knees, forcing me to release him as I sit up, suddenly aware my stomach is covered in cum.
“I’ll be right back, okay?” He nods but looks hesitant. “Actually.” I stand up and grab his hand, pulling him up with me. “You probably need to clean up too, right?”
He blushes slightly at that, biting his bottom lip and nodding his head. Goddamn, he’s adorable. I’m going to have to get used to those thoughts.
“Let’s go.” I pull my briefs up over the mess and head into the bathroom to grab two of the plush washcloths Blair ordered for me, wetting them both and handing one to him when he follows me in, wearing only his briefs.
It’s awkward as fuck, for some reason. I mean, we just made each other come, but we seem to have a no-looking rule. I focus on pushing down my underwear, kicking them off and cleaning up as he does the same. I try my best not to ogle him as I go into my room and find new briefs, tugging them on.
I can’t keep my eyes off his tight ass, though, as he walks back to the couch, finding his joggers and pulling them on sans underwear.
Well, that’s going to make it hard to focus.
He slips his ruined briefs in his pocket, and I smile at how ridiculous this is. I have no idea what the hell is happening. Today, before he came over, he was just a guy I kissed once. One I can’t stop thinking about. Now, I’ve actually seen him come—made him come—along with me. And if I couldn’t stop thinking about him before, there’s no way I will now.
I also pull on a pair of joggers before walking over to him and flopping down on the couch. He’s cautious, still watching me with hesitance, but he sits down next to me anyway. Shakily pushing his thick hair through his fingers, he turns to look at me. “So that happened.”
I smile at him, trying my best to get him to relax. “It did.”
“I’m not going to tell anyone, Rhett. I know you don’t have any reason to trust me, but I won’t.”
He’s still stuck on that? I turn to face him fully on the couch. “I know you won’t, but I’m not worried about that. I won’t tell anyone either.”
He lets out a relieved puff of air, but I don’t think it’s about the I won’t tell anyone else part. “I know . . .” I thought his cockiness annoyed me, but I hate how unsettled I’ve made this normally almost arrogant guy. “I know you’re figuring stuff out.”
I flinch slightly at that and lean my side into the back of the couch. “Grayson, listen to me, okay?” His eyes are fixed so fiercely on mine, it almost takes my breath away, but I have his attention, so I continue. “I’m fucked up.”
“Rhett—” he starts, but I hold a hand up, silently asking him to let me finish.
“I’m sure you already know this. I was in foster care until I was thirteen. Then Bree, Fletch, and I were adopted by Blair and Rhys.”
He nods slowly. “I’ve heard that, but I don’t believe things unless they come from the source.”
I smile and then silently curse because that’s yet another reason to like him I don’t need. “I didn’t trust Blair and Rhys for a long time. I had no weird feelings about them or anything, but I didn’t trust anyone. Ever.” I tried so hard not to like them. “But they slowly worked their way in.”
He smiles. “Not such a bad thing, right?”
I shake my head. “They’re great. Really great. Not only do they love each other—and I mean like an epic kind of love you only read about and makes you kind of nauseous—but they love all three of us.”
“So then, why are you telling me this?” He looks wary, and he should.
“Because no matter how good they are . . .” I meet his eyes with intensity. “It doesn’t matter to me. I’m fucked, beyond fucked, in the head. I don’t fully trust them, even though they’ve only done good things for me. Even though they don’t only say they love me, they show it.”