I can feel every inch of him against me. The hard planes of his chest, the heat of his stomach, the unmistakable evidence that he wants this as much as I do. His mouth moves to my jaw, my throat, teeth grazing the sensitive skin below my ear. I moan, my head falling back against the wall, my hands trembling where they grip his waist.
“Fuck,” he breathes against my neck, the word ragged. His hips roll against mine and I bite back a moan. “Fuck, Jude, I want—” He holds my face, staring deep into my eyes. The lack of control I see is both exhilarating and frightening. He looks like he wants to devour me.
I want to tell him he can have me. He can have anything he wants from me. But I’m terrified if I speak, I’ll break the spell. In the end, it doesn’t matter. His whole body suddenly goes rigid. The wildness in his eyes flickers, and I watch the man surge back to the surface, horror replacing hunger. He pulls back like I’ve burned him, stumbling a step, two steps away. His chest is heaving, his eyes wide.
“What am Idoing? I… I…” He stares at me, and the confusion on his face is devastating. The panic in his voice guts me. “Jude, I... I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I say, even though my voice is wrecked and my body is screaming at the loss of him.
He turns his back on me and quickly begins to dress.
I’m scared he’ll send me away. He’s disgusted by his behavior. By his desire. It’s very likely he’ll want me gone just so he doesn’t have to face what happened between us.
“Liam, listen.” I lick my lips and struggle to keep my voice steady. “It’s fine. We were both amped up from the run. It didn’t mean anything and Iknowthat.”
He turns back to me, and the raw vulnerability in his expression almost undoes me. The guilt and revulsion and self-loathing in his eyes kills me. “I don’t want that,” he croaks. “I’ve never wanted that before and I don’t want it now.”
“I know.” I nod, my heart aching. “I understand. It’s okay, really. It was just the run got us excited. It wasn’t you, it was your wolf. I get it.”
“Right,” he says harshly. “Itwasn’tme.”
“We both had too much wine. It’s no big deal. It meant nothing, and I completely understand that.” Panicked words spill from my lips as I grab my clothes from the porch floor, and pull them on with hands that won’t stop trembling.
Without another word, he goes into the house, slamming the back door. I lean against the wall, feeling sick to my stomach. My lips are swollen from his kiss. My skin burns everywhere he touched me. I can still smell him on me, and his rejection breaks my heart.
But I understand why he’s upset. He just saw something in himself he isn’t ready to accept. He might never be able to accept it. That’s all right. You can’t force someone to be who they don’t want to be.
I enter the house and hurry upstairs. Once I’m in my room, I lean my back against the closed door and slide down until I’m sitting on the floor. Legs drawn to my chest, I press my forehead to my knees and try to breathe.
Liam’s sweet taste still lingers on my tongue, but it’s clear to me now what I must do. I need to move out of Liam’s house ASAP. If I don’t, I’ll lose every part of him. The disgust and fear I saw in his eyes made that crystal clear. I didn’t imagine the hunger in his eyes, but I also didn’t imagine the self-loathing. If I stay in his home, he’ll come to hate me.
Because he hates the part of himself that wants me.
I’ll give him distance, so he isn’t tempted again.
And hopefully, by doing that, I can still have his friendship.
Chapter Twelve
Liam
Sleep evades me. I feel like puking every time I think about how I practically forced myself on Jude. He didn’t reject me, but that’s not the point. I didn’t care what he wanted in that moment. I was going to take whatIwanted, and I wanted to beinsidehis body. I wanted to fuck him up against the wall, hard and fast. I didn’t care about anything but taking what I needed.
And in that moment, claiming Jude was all I needed.
My cock throbs and I groan and pull the pillow over my head. I don’t want to want him. But even as those thoughts come to me, I shudder with need at the memory of his smell. The feel of his hard cock pressed against my flesh. His precum is still there, dried on my skin as proof of my selfishness.
I’m so damn confused. I’ve never cared if anyone was gay. Not once in my life have I had a harsh thought about anyone in the LGBTQ community. But when it comes to me wanting Jude, I’m ashamed. Embarrassed. Humiliated. I don’t even know why. If I’m cool with other people being gay, why would it matter if I was bisexual? But it just does. It’s not who I thought I was, and that scares the shit out of me. What else don’t I know about myself?
Oh, God, and poor Jude. He’d responded so hungrily. He’d been fucking willing. Then when I’d rejected him, he’d tried desperately to soothe me. Reassure me. His anxiety and confusion had been palpable. I could sense he didn’t trust I wouldn’t throw him out of my home right then and there. He’s used to being discarded.
I wouldn’t have done that to him. Never. I truly care about Jude. I just don’t want to lust after him. It’s also a betrayal of Kara. I love Kara. I want to be with Kara. I want to have a normal, boring heterosexual life where I raise kids and go to little league games. I don’t want to be the guy others whisper about behind my back. I don’t want to have to put up with the prejudice we all know exists. The prejudice Jude has probably had to put up with his whole life.
The prejudice I apparently have living inside of me.
I’m dreading tomorrow. Dreading facing Jude. I’m sure he’s having the same feelings. I really fucked up and I’m not sure how to fix the mess I made. Will Jude even want to be my friend now? My partner at work? Or will he think I crossed a line and he can’t be around me anymore?
Then there’s the part of me that thinks maybe that would be for the best. I wouldn’t kick Jude out, but if he decides he doesn’t want to be around me anymore, maybe that would be good. Maybe we could work with different partners and eventually move past this embarrassing situation I created.
