“Hmm.” Jamal reaches into the sticky mess of my pants, closing his fist around my length.
Chapter 23
Jamal King
For once, I’m not overthinking. Theo got me feeling things on a whole different level. Extreme highs and lows. I’m not built for uncertainty; in fact, it gives me panic attacks.
But my hand reaches into his pants to grip his growing hard-on.
“We could shower and go for round two at the same time.” He closes his teeth around my bottom lip, and I’m ready to agree.
“I don’t…” I pause, figuring out how to explain that I don’t have any experience or know what I’m doing.
“It’s fine.” He gets up and tugs me along. “You can shower before you go.” He leads me into a room that I only know is his because of his hockey clothes on the floor and extra equipment piled in the corner.
I stop to take it all in. The bedspread is cream with gold-stitched gaudy flowers. It’s decorated similarly to the rest of the apartment.
“Yup. It’s butt-ugly. And no, I had no say in it.” He points to the open bathroom door. “There are clean towels in the linen closet. Help yourself.”
I stand in the middle of the room, contemplating how to ask him to shower with me. But I’ll probably embarrass myself.
Theo stares at me in confusion. “Would you rather not shower?”
“I don’t have clean clothes here,” the germaphobe in me blurts out.
“I got you.” He tosses me clothes from a drawer. “You good?”
My mouth won’t work, so I escape to the bathroom, shut the door without locking it, and take the fastest shower in history. I want him to come in as much as I need to be alone. Except being alone means my mind runs wild, overthinking.
What are we doing? I must be insane. Does he actually like me? Like, like me, like me? Could my dad tell I’m into Theo? Did he mean he’ll understand if Theo and I… What would we do? Hook up? Friends with benefits? My nerves are shot, and I need to bounce.
When I snap out of it, I realize I’m smelling Theo’s used towel. I should not be allowed out in public.
I pull on his clothes commando because it’s too weird to wear someone else’s underwear.
“You look good in my clothes,” Theo says as I emerge from the bathroom. He’s got wet hair and is wearing a different outfit. “I used another bathroom to give you privacy.”
His nose flares when he sees both pairs of underwear in my hand.
I open my mouth to tell him I’m a recovering germaphobe, but that’s not what I say. “I don’t have experience with live people.”
Instead of laughing like I expect, he tilts his head to the side. “I shouldn’t kink shame…but necrophilia?”
As I’m covering my face, I realize I still have my cum-splattered clothes in my hand and toss them as if they’re burning me. “Why am I like this?” I ask rhetorically, but I can’t flee because he’s standing between me and the door.
Theo laughs. “I ask myself that all the time, but you’ll have to be more specific. Are we talking necrophilia, awkward, or going commando?” He steps closer and snaps my waistband as if trying to sneak a peek.
“I didn’t think awkward until now. Thanks for that.” Self-consciously, I step out of his reach. “Not into dead people, but I don’t hook up. I’ve tried, but my anxiety gets out of control, so I stick to camboys.”
I watch his expression for disgust or rejection, putting more distance between us.
“That’s smart. Wish I’d thought of it. But John would cut off my credit card.” He bends down to pick up my dirty clothes, and I grab for them. “I’ll wash them for you, Your Majesty.”
“Your Majesty?” I repeat.
Theo bows his head. “You’re my king, aren’t you?”
He has to be kidding. Not meaning it. A joke. My head bobbles on my neck, and my brain goes from overthinking to zero activity. I’m not sure how I’m breathing on my own.
