“Yeah, I think it is, Angel.”
I don’t even know what to say.
“This was your idea! You wanted to stick it to Mark.”
“You agreed and promised you wouldn’t let it get between us,” he says like a fucking lawyer who’s had his case planned for months.
Bastard.
“Fuck you! I could help you with that as friends, but you’re not into it.” The words are out before I can stop them. Oops.
“What? You wouldn’t even cuddle with me? How are you helping?”
I scramble to come up with something to say that could possibly have the same meaning and not be offering my best friend a blow job. We’d only just kind of patched things up—I don’t need to fuck it up again. But other than sex work, how the fuck am I helping him out? There is only one fucking meaning to that.
“I don’t hear any solutions?” he says like a total dick. “You’re leading me on, aren’t you?”
My competitiveness takes over, and my mouth is running again. “A blow job is a blow job. Not like you could tell the difference if it’s from a guy or a girl.”
He stares at me, and I can see it working behind his eyes. “Seriously? You said they were different when we were back home.”
“That’s true. They are way better from a guy because gay guys actually like giving blow jobs, unlike a lot of women.” I shrug like it’s nothing for me to just offer, but my heart is in my throat, and I’m bracing for him to throw me out of his room.
“You like it?” There’s curiosity in his tone.
“Of course I do? I love dick, so one in my mouth is hot.”
He cocks his head to the side, clearly thinking about it really hard, which doesn’t help the situation in my pants. “Why would you want to blow me if you didn’t even want to cuddle?”
Fuck.
“I was trying not to cross too many lines and blur our friendship. I didn’t realize it was hurting you that bad.” More like I was trying to protect myself but same difference. “I didn’t do anything to hurt you on purpose.”
“And this isn’t not blurring the lines?” Is he actually considering this? “You’d do it?”
Holy fuck.
I can’t breathe. It’s like he’s set a forest fire inside me and I’m just going to burn. “I’m in your bed cuddling you. I think that’s gone out the window.”
“That’s a bit of a bigger deal.” He lightly skims his fingertips over my arm.
“Is it?” I swallow hard having to play it off because he just has no idea what any of this is doing to me. “I don’t want you to be hurting. I’ve already done enough damage. I want to make you to feel good.”
Why am I trying to convince him?
I’ve lost my fucking mind completely.
“I don’t know if you’ll be able to get me off.” There’s a slight hesitation in his voice, and I love it.
I laugh because he can’t be serious. “Close your eyes and picture whatever you want. I’m sure I’ll be able to get you off.”
“I like watching.”
I’m deceased.
I pull the tie out of my hair, letting the dark strands fall down around my face. It’s only just past my jaw, but curly and will help the visual. “In this light, how different will lips and hair look?”
“Your hair is gorgeous.” He slides his hand up my spine and into my hair, tugging it a little and sending a shiver through me. I barely bite back a moan.
