“Yeah.” She curled an arm around my neck and, with vodka Jell-O breath, she pecked the side of my cheek. “Jack and Jill are such dicks,” she said, “Of course I’m your real friend, Liam.”
Chapter Fourteen
The light in Quinn’s room leaked from the slit at the bottom of the door. I slipped out of my coat and suit jacket, and toed off my shoes.
I rubbed at a splotch of dried, crusty Jell-O on my thigh. It wasn’t the best idea to turn up to the Jell-O party in my suit. But never mind. I’d stick them in the wash.
Movement came from Quinn’s room, and I sidled closer to the wall that he shared with the living room. I only heard silence, so maybe Cheddar had left already? That, or they had very quiet intercourse.
I swallowed the sudden dryness in my throat, and almost immediately followed it up by bangingon Quinn’s door.
“Liam?” Quinn asked, pulling the door open.
One glance told me he was alone in the room, and I shifted my gaze back to him. His worried frown quickly disappeared, and he casually leaned against the doorjamb in nothing more than a pair of sweatpants.
Goose bumps didn’t scatter over his skin like the last time I’d seen him shirtless, but his nipples were stiff and redder than I remembered, though it could’ve been the light.
A finger curled around my chin and lifted it. “My face is up here,” Quinn said with an amused smile.
“Are you serious about Cheddar?”
“Why?”
“I might be gay,” I said.
“You just figured that out, smart guy?”
“I need more proof to ascertain it’s true.” I walked forward, pressing my palm against his warm chest. His hairs prickled my skin and sent electric beads of excitement up to my elbow. “Cheddar?”
A delicate blush streaked Quinn’s cheeks and his boxed ears lifted a fraction. His large hand cuffed mine, pressing firmly, as if to keep me right where I was.
“Cheddar’s a friend of mine,” he said quietly, his green gaze burrowing into mine and sending all the blood I could spare right to my groin. “A friend who played decoy tonight.”
“Decoy?” I asked, my body leaning toward him.
He bent forward, holding his nose just far enough from mine that it felt as if our noses were touching, even though they weren’t. “I really hated that documentary.”
“So you do have a pathetic crush on me.”
His mouth closed on mine, and with a quick spin of my body, Quinn pinned me to the doorframe, one hand cupping the back of my head, cushioning it from the wood.
Our breathing quickened. Warm, delicate puffs escaped between the meshing of soft lips and nipping teeth, and each timehis tongue touched mine, my blood seemed to sing and I shivered. My cock ached like it never had without my hand on it.
A rasp of Quinn’s stubble moved from my cheek down the side of my neck as he tasted the skin below my ear. His tongue flicked, and the air quickly cooled the spot. I threaded my fingers in his hair, slightly stiffened at the tips with product. I squeezed, pushing him and his lips toward that spot again.
This time he moaned as he tasted me and sucked hard until it stung. I let out something between a groan and a pant.
“Touch me,” I said, cocking my hips and thrusting my crotch against his. The bulge of his hard cock had mine pulsing.
My hands trailed over his shoulders to his chest and I squeezed his nipples. “I need your hands down my pants now.”
“Fuck that’s so hot.” Quinn stole my lips once more and his fingertips worked the buttons of my fly, his knuckles brushing over my length in a way that had me clutching at his back for him to hurry.
He chuckled and spoke in my ear as his slightly cool fingertips darted into the waistband of my boxer-briefs and drew an agonizing line from one side of my hips to the other, crossing over the head of my cock to finish.
“I want you to remember this.”
I thrust toward him again. “I have a good memory. I doubt I’ll be forgetting any time soon. Grab me. Jerk me.”
