“I don’t remember the last time I felt this way about anyone.”
Lance laughed, surprised and elated by this heartwarming admission.
“I know exactly what you mean,” Lance replied in a hushed voice.
Trembling with nerves and excitement, Tanner moved his hand from Lance’s arm to cup his jaw, gently running his thumb across Lance’s cheek.
“Tell me this is all in my head,” Tanner whispered, leaving Lance breathless and hopeful at the same time. Lance didn’t speak for fear it would ruin this fragile, tender moment. “Tell me no,” Tanner practically begged him as he leaned closer.
“If it’s all in your head, then we’re both done for,” Lance finally said, as a powerful yearning for more of Tanner’s touch washed over him.
A second later, Tanner’s lips were brushing his, and Lance’s mind went blank.
Lance had never been the king of celibacy. As a quarterback and member of a popular fraternity, he’d had zero problems scoring a date whenever he wanted one. His good looks were just icing on the cake. But never, at any point, had he kissed another man before. He hadn’t been all that interested in kissing anyway, since he just wanted to get to the main event. But kissing Tanner was nothing like those perfunctory, just-get-it-over-with experiences. This was electrifying and hot—damned hot! So much so, that his heart was trying to pound itself right out of his chest.
Their kiss began as a gentle exploration, gradually learning the taste of one another. It was tentative. Neither one claimed dominance nor attempted to push too hard for more, yet there was no denying the growing heat between them. Everyshift of their lips, every graze of Tanner’s fingers against his jaw, every hum of pleasure, sent chills of excitement down Lance’s spine. He was swimming in ecstasy, having trouble recalling where and who he was. Even more surprising, Lance felt himself hardening and grinding against Tanner. Holy hell! His body was responding far quicker than his mind could keep up with, and before he could lose himself completely, he broke the kiss to catch his breath. He looked at Tanner feeling stunned, thoughts swirling. But one thought emerged with startling clarity—the certainty that he wanted so much more.
“Please don’t go,” Tanner implored, his voice quivering. “You can hate me, or fucking punch me tomorrow, but—please—stay here tonight.”
It was as if Tanner had read his mind. He couldn’t help chuckling ruefully. Despite the dim lighting in the room, it was impossible to miss the intensity of Tanner’s gaze. Tanner. This was Tanner, Lance reminded himself. Despite Lance’s confusion about his newfound interest in kissing—or anything else for that matter—he couldn’t help but respond to Tanner’s pleas. Lance tightened his hold, amazed once more by how well Tanner fit against him. The pilot was still too thin, but the shape of him, the hard outline of his chest and square shoulders—felt right to Lance in a way that his exes never had. He closed his eyes and marveled at how emotionally and physically fulfilling it was to be with Tanner.
Lance began humming an old song that he liked, not even knowing the words. The melody was all he knew, so he just kept humming and began rubbing gentle circles across Tanner’s back.
“Is that an old Rolling Stones song?” Tanner asked with a chuckle.
“I’m not sure what song that is,” he admitted. “I just felt like humming.”
“Sounds like something my grandpa might say.”
“You often kiss your grandpa like that?”
Tanner looked away, uncertain as to what kind of response Lance was looking for. Lance regretted his attempt to tease Tanner that way, but at the same time, he felt it was necessary to step back and take a good look at what was happening between them. Jokes were the cornerstones of their relationship. Even in this instance, when their relationship had suddenly shifted into high gear and was heading in an entirely new direction. He placed two fingers beneath Tanner’s chin and lifted it slowly.
“And just so we’re clear, I don’t want to punch you,” Lance clarified, because Tanner’s earlier warning bothered him. “And I sure as hell do not hate you. Am I surprised? Abso-fucking-lutely. Shocked even, but—I’m not mad or anything remotely like that,” he assured the other man, blushing from head to toe as his aching cock reminded him of just how much he wanted Tanner. Fuck, hating Tanner was the furthest thing from his mind as he forced himself to rein in his lust.
“Yeah, well get in line. I got on the surprised train first,” Tanner replied with a snort.
“Wait—hold up. You mean—you’ve never—with a guy?”
“Hell no!” His answer was coupled with a chuckle of disbelief. “You?”
Lance shook his head without hesitation. “Never even thought about it—before you.”
“That’s a little fucked, isn’t it?” Tanner asked, blowing out a breath and frowning like he was attempting to solve the riddle of the meaning of the universe. Lance shrugged and sighed.
“No,” Lance refuted with absolute confidence. Like he’d already fully processed it even though kissing Tanner hadn’t occurred to him until just a few minutes ago. Where was this sense of calm coming from?
Without any mental rehearsal, Lance spoke from the heart.
“You said it yourself. I haven’t felt like this about anyone in a long time. I’ve spent the past two weeks coming up with every possible excuse to be around you. It really—I really shouldn’t be as shocked as I am that I’m—you know—” he shrugged. “Into you,” he concluded, blushing furiously, but thankfully it was too dark to be seen.
Lance waited patiently for a response, staying silent while Tanner thought this over.
“That—was very 13-year-old of us. When did we start sounding like crushing teenagers?” he asked, shuddering in disgust at the mushiness of their conversation.
Lance laughed exuberantly. He saw Tanner’s smile stretch across his face like that of a lazy cat in the sun. The little bastard was clearly proud of himself for coming up with that little quip, so he leaned over and pressed a firm kiss to that smart mouth to shut him up.
“I hope I kiss better than a teenage girl,” he whispered against Tanner’s mouth.
