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The man I might have had the most stupid high school crush on that maybe hasn’t completely stayed in high school. Connor Kikishkin.
I’m going to own Connor Kikishkin.
It pisses me off that I don’t know if I want to fuck Connor or be Connor.
The look he levels me with is maybe the hottest thing I’ve seen in my life, and I have to remind myself I’m a professional, not a pile of goo, damn it.
Though Miles Olsen says his pet rocks hate me too. Mainly when me or Easton score on him, but still. Even the rocks hate me.
“And if it turns out I’m every bit the possessive guy who acts first and thinks later?”
The image of us in the locker room flips so that I’m in East’s position and Connor is pulling someone off me in a possessive, jealous rage. It’s a struggle to keep my voice even when I say, “Then you have to find someone who’ll appreciate being possessed. And some people really, really like it.”
I’m so attracted to him it hurts. All this time I wanted his attention, I had no idea how tortuous that attention could be.
“Connor … I am very gay and very attracted to you and very, very into the way you’re taking control. Please let go of my neck.”
almost forget to breathe. His scent is strong, his grip is tight, and even though I’m probably going into cardiac arrest, it’s worth risking death for this.
“Nope. What I really want is to take you somewhere. Knowing you smell like me.” “You really are a possessive fucker.”
“Parker, if another man tries to touch you, I’ll break every bone in his fucking hand.”
he’s in complete control, a demon absolutely destroying me.
All I want to do is tell everyone you belong to me, but that comes with big consequences, so I understand not doing it, but I’m finding ways to fuck it up anyway.
