“Yeah.”
“I thought... Well…”
“Come on, don’t be shy. You’ve got my cock in your hand, you can tell me.”
“You want the truth?”
“Always.”
“At first, I couldn’t stand you. But that’s on me. It’s just guys like you…”
“Guys like me?”
“Hot, popular jocks... They’re often so full of themselves.”
He chuckles, and I feel the deep rumble vibrate through him. “Fair enough. But we need that cockiness. On the field, it can be the difference between winning and losing.”
“Yeah, I guess. Sorry. That was rude of me. You’re not?—”
“It’s okay, Sebas. I’m not easily offended. Keep going.”
“But when you looked at me,” I say, squeezing his erection as a shudder ripples through me, remembering the moment he caught my gaze, “there was this... um…”
“This what?”
“This intensity. Like you could see right through me.”
“Oh, I could, Sebas. I still can. You’re practically transparent. So easy to read.”
I squirm. “I’m not.”
“You are.” He leans in, his mouth brushing my ear. “You were eye-fucking me so hard.”
“I wasn’t,” I squeak, heat rushing to my cheeks. “Okay, maybe a little, but... I always thought I was straight.”
Josh slides his hand up to the waistband of my pants and slips his fingers underneath, brushing the sensitive tip of my dick. It throbs at his touch, and a bead of precum gushes out.
I gasp.
“You know,” he murmurs, his fingers smearing the wetness around, “maybe it was never the jocks you disliked. Maybe it was what they stirred up in you.”
My breath hitches. God, why does that make so much sense? Is that why I’ve always felt this way? Because deep down, I knew I wasn’t straight, and guys like Josh brought that truth to the surface?
“Jesus, maybe Iameasy to read,” I laugh nervously.
The corner of his mouth curls into a smile. “Just a little. But that’s what makes you so damn cute.”
Cute.No one’s ever called me that before, and the sound of it in his deep, rumbling voice goes straight to my cock.
That’s when the last of my restraint snaps.
My free hand flies to one of his horns and grips it. His eyes widen, his mouth parts in surprise, and I yank him in, crushing our lips together. Hard. Harder than I’ve ever kissed a girl.
He answers with equal force, his tongue sliding into my mouth, teeth clashing, a low growl rising from his chest. His stubble scrapes rough against my skin.
His mouth is wet and warm and sweet, tasting like the orange punch we were drinking moments ago. I chase the flavor, desperate for more, desperate to get him closer, and his fingers dive deeper into my pants, curling around my throbbing cock.
It’s sloppy. Greedy. Primal.
