I let him cup the side of my neck, and I shivered as he brushed his thumb firmly over my jaw, right where I had imagined myself licking him.
“You’re so fucking gorgeous, Ryan,” he rumbled. “I’m sorry I’m so obsessed with you, but fuck. I can’t help it. You’re too damn beautiful.”
I swallowed and looked up at him.
“It feels weird having a dude call me beautiful,” I admitted, though honestly, it would be weird to me ifanyonetold me they thought I was beautiful. I was pale and freckled with bright red hair. I was never anyone’s first choice. It was something I had forced myself to make peace with over the years, though it did hurt me to think about sometimes when I looked in the mirror.
Despite the fact that I found it hard to believe Cal truly found me beautiful, I realized that I did thinkhewas.
Greedily, I drank him in as he pressed closer, breathing in his intoxicating scent. He leaned in closer, and the tip of his nose brushed against the tip of mine. He hovered there for a moment, giving me room to pull away. He smelled like bergamot and oak. I inhaled, and a rush of excitement coursed through me as his breath danced across my lips.
“You ever been kissed by a man, Ryan?” he asked, and I shook my head slightly, feeling stiff as a board. He pressed up against me, and our chests bumped together. He strokedhis thumb over that spot on my jaw again, and I made an involuntary whimper.
“You smell like alcohol,” Cal murmured, sliding his other hand up my bare arm to play with the sleeve of my shirt. His gentle fingers left a trail of gooseflesh in its wake.
“Theo got me drunk and told me I have the hots for you,” I admitted, closing my eyes and finding myself leaning into his touch.
A low, surprised chuckle escaped Cal’s lips. His mouth was so close to mine. I found myself turning my head to the side to line up our mouths.
“Is that so?” Cal asked. He touched his lips to mine so fucking softly I could barely even register that we had touched.
“Mhmm.” I breathed, and Cal’s hand tightened on the side of my face.
“Do you?”
“What?”
“Have the hots for me?” he asked, holding me firmly in place.
Did I have the hots for him? I wasn’t sure. I knew that I wanted him to kiss me. I knew that much.
“I-I don’t know,” I admitted, and he chuckled again. That deep masculine rumble rolled through his chest and made my dick swell in my sweats.
“Do you want to find out?” he asked, and I found myself nodding.
“Yes.”
“Good. Me too,” he growled, and before I could react, his lips crashed into mine.
His lip ring pressed into me, and he swiped his tongue across the seam of my mouth, begging me to open for him. I did, and suddenly, his hot tongue was stroking against mine.
I moaned in his mouth embarrassingly loud. I couldn’t fucking help it.
Our teeth clashed, and he possessively stroked my tongue before sucking it into his mouth. With each pulse, my dick grew harder.
He held my head in place with his right hand, but his left hand roamed freely. One moment, he was stroking my cheek; the next, his fingers were tugging on my hair hard enough that I groaned, and then, finally, he slid his hand down my chest.
“You taste just like I imagined you would, Ryan.” He groaned into my mouth. I bit down on his bottom lip and sucked on his lip ring, teasing it with my tongue.
His fingers closed around my nipple and pinched it through my T-shirt. I whined and arched, finding my own fingers in his thick, dark hair. I pulled him in closer and shoved my tongue back into his mouth, aggressively lashing against him.
“Fuck,”I cursed as his hand slid lower. He went slowly, pausing periodically as if waiting to see if I would stop him. After a few excruciating minutes, I grew impatient and grabbed his hand, shoving it lower.
He broke the kiss and stared at me, his lips swollen and puffy from where I had bitten him. We were both panting and rock hard. I was desperate for him to touch me again.
“You want this,” he said. It wasn’t a question.
“Touch me like you did before,” I rasped. He rested his forehead against mine, his chest heaving from the intensity of our kiss.
