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I didn’t know a lot about him beyond that he was majoring in structural engineering. And currently minoring in confusing my dick.
“So what’s tripping you up?” Right now? You.
I’m about to get down on my knees for you and take you the fuck apart, piece by piece until I turn you inside out.”
“Fuck me.” Eric’s jaw went slack with confusion, his fingers stilling inside me. “What? Really?” I nodded quickly. “Yeah. I want it.”
my brain was stuck on the fact that he’d called me hot.
Eric smothered my mouth again with his hand. “Got this feeling you’re gonna want to get louder.” I moaned into his palm, bit at the inside of his fingers.
Hot
He had me plugged on both ends, totally at his mercy, and I could do nothing but take his cock in my ass and drool on his fingers.
We’d hung out all summer, and when we hooked up, it was always under the pretense that we were just two dudes getting off together because we were already around each other, so why not?
I love that trope
And besides, I haven’t been interested in any other guys. Not even a little.” “Until now.” “I’m not interested in you. I’m interested in hooking up with you.” I caught the change in his expression. It was brief, but it was there—a flash of hurt or anger.
I should have just gone with him because at least when I was around him, I seemed to be incapable of complex thought processes.
I’d gone half-mast at the sight of him, but the skim of his hand over my shaft had my pole ready to support an entire UN Summit’s worth of country flags.
That fucking term. It was Pavlovian, and I hated it as much as it turned me on.
“I should start going to the gym with you.” “You definitely shouldn’t do that, nope. Trying to lift with a boner would be hell.”
“I like you like this. So fucking needy. Ready to beg, but not wanting to. All that pride warring against horniness until you can’t take it anymore. And that’s my favorite moment with you, Nate, when you can no longer resist, when that look of yours switches from struggle to surrender.”
“Shit, that’s so fucking hot. You might actually be the hottest piece of ass I’ve fucked.” I clenched around him, turning his raspy chuckle into a moan. “Stop talking and fuck me.” “So goddamn mouthy.”
I told myself I’d stay for ten minutes, maybe twenty, then go back to my room. Instead, I fell asleep next to him.
I shifted around as my dick got hard at the mere suggestion that his was, too. Great, my Pavlovian instincts had reached even creepier heights. If Eric popped wood in the middle of a forest and no one was around to see it…
“You’d let me fill you with my fingers. My tongue. My dick. Whatever I wanted. Wherever I wanted. However I wanted.”
It struck me as odd that we’d never really hung out before, that I’d hardly paid him any attention at all when he’d moved in, and now I couldn’t stop seeing him.
My scholarship should have been the first thing I thought of. Instead it’d been Eric.
Something was fucking wrong with me. I was being cavalier, skipping out on duties to my fraternity, putting my scholarship in jeopardy. For what? But as I lifted my gaze to meet Eric’s, I knew. I knew. And I needed to tell him.
“God, I suck at this.” “At talking? Yeah, you do, which is kind of ironic since you couldn’t seem to shut the fuck up as long as my dick was involved.”
“You’re right, this thing is pretty fucking bad.” “I heard that, Eric. Don’t give me ideas that you’re a bad influence on my son,” my mom teased. I knew the fucker was grinning when he replied, “You’ve got it backwards, Mrs. S.”
got it.” Felt like that was all I was saying lately, which was ironic because I so didn’t. I didn’t have anything at the moment aside from a grocery list, a perpetual phantom boner, and a strong desire to get out of the house for a while so I could breathe again.
Eric smiled flawlessly, charmingly. “I wish, but I’m seeing someone.”
“I want you. That’s never been the fucking issue. Jesus Christ, I fucking want you. All the time, every day. To the edge of my own goddamn sanity, I want you—”
“You want to know that I’m suffering. That’s what it is, isn’t it? You want to see me suffering? Then fucking look at me. Because I am.”
“You were right. What you said in my room that night about whether I could get over you? I can’t. I’m fucking wrecked. I want to be with you, asshole, so name the terms, because I can’t do it for you. I can’t make any of these choices for you any more than I can stop wanting you. I thought I could and I can’t. It has to be you who makes the call.”
“Say something.” I shivered as the cold hit me all at once. “Can’t. Think I just shot my capacity for coherent speech down the back of your throat.”
basketball goal.
The hoop?
“You’re looking at him. Meaning me. He’s my…he’s mine,” I stammered out, just lobbed the awkward clusterfuck of grammar and poor syntax on the table to sit there alongside the stupid turkey centerpiece. Why I couldn’t say boyfriend, I had no idea.
Mine was maybe too possessive, but since Eric pretty much owned my body and all my thought processes, it seemed a fair claim in return.
No one was fucking dying because I liked a dick up my ass, after all.
“Nate.” There was something so finite about the way he said my name. Crazy how he could give something I’d heard all my life new worlds of meaning just by his inflection.
“I’m crazy about you. You get that, right?”
“That’s not handholding. That’s like…hand fucking. Or hand seduction. Your hand is seducing mine, and my hand has zero game. It’s just gonna hop in the bed with yours without even dinner or a drink first. Maybe I need to give it a lecture about standards.”
Why did clothes smell so much better when someone else washed them?
Truth
I’d never been so consistently, rampantly horny and so satisfied at the same time.
“You look tired.” “Your hair’s a wreck,” Jesse tagged on. Ansel twisted around from where he stood in front of the cabinet with a box of cereal in hand to eye me. “Your face looks like a ballsac.” “All of you can suck my dick,” I grumbled.
Nate: I wanted to come in last night but I couldn’t. The guys stayed forever Eric: Not a deal, I told you. Just messing with you. Nate: Okay I started to type something else, then erased it. Eric: Nate Eric: I’m not going anywhere.
Now we’re cool? Jesus, was that the best I could say about a guy who turned me inside out? Fucking wimp.
“We’re together. Seeing each other.” Mark’s face went blank, and then he burst into laughter that died a quick death as I glared at him. “We weren’t doing coke in the office that night—we were screwing around, okay? And I really fucking like him.”
Heteroflexible. Huh. I turned that term over in my head, considering whether it was a better fit for me than bi and then decided fuck it, I didn’t necessarily need to figure it out because one thing I did know was that no matter what kind of label I attached to myself, Eric fucking did it for me. Up, down, backwards, forwards, and sideways.
“Fuck, gimme some friction, you cocktease.” “Say please.” “Make me.” He did. I’d said it over and over as he rolled me onto my side, slid his hand behind my knee, and held it while he fucked me into oblivion.
“The cock in my mouth last night actually hit the back of my throat and gagged the shit out of me, so I know it wasn’t yours.”
“I want you just as much as yesterday and days before. Nothing has changed for me. If anything, it’s intensified.”
“So fucking greedy for me,” Eric rasped in my ear, and I let out another breathless, lung-squeezing moan that was all I could manage. It meant yes. Yes, I was a total fucking glutton for him.
“It’s a hole like any other.” He said it so casually, but it wasn’t. It was Eric’s fucking hole. Eric’s tight, suck-my-brains-through-the-head-of-my-dick hole.
If I’d never given Eric a chance, I’d have sold myself short on all of this, on the bone-deep ache for him, the intense connection I felt with him, the…fuck. My breath hitched as my gaze locked on his. “I love you,” I blurted out, unpolished and impulsive as ever, and then gritted my teeth.
“Of course I love you,” he said quietly, the humor fading from his eyes and replaced with resolute intensity. “Can hardly fucking see straight if you’re in the same goddamn room. I could’ve told you before—almost did a couple of times—but I didn’t want it to be some kind of pressure on you.”
