Sure, around my friends, I’m outgoing. In our geek bubble, I have all the confidence I need to act like myself.
But surrounded by badass women in leather jackets and old dudes who look like they eat nails for breakfast? That’s the kind of thing that makes me clam up and shut down.
Double that for having a bully like Jeremiah breathing down my neck, threatening me with every word.
Except I’m not shutting down. I’m not crawling back into my shell like a frightened teenager again. With Stone by my side, I feel safe and confident.
And when he kisses me, hell, I feel powerful. Like anything could be possible, including a spontaneous romp at his apartment.
He pushes the door to his place open and kicks off his boots at the door. “If this were a real date, I’d apologize for the mess,” he says drolly.
It takes me a minute to realize he’s repeating my line. “It’s starting to feel pretty real,” I say as I reach out and push his shaggy hair back.
We stand there a minute, and my heart pounds against my ribs. I’ve been painfully hard since he kissed me at the convention center, and my cock throbs in anticipation now. Stone has that puppy dog look on his face, his puffy lips slightly parted and his lids drooping in that sexy way that still simmers with desire.
Instead of thinking or talking or doing anything else that might screw this up, I give in to my impulses and step forward. I wrap my hands around the back of Stone’s neck, and he grabs me by the ass, pulling me close. Our lips meet again, but instead of devouring me like last time, he goes slower now.
Teasing. Exploring. Tasting.
I hum, and when he drags his tongue across my teeth, my voice drops into a groan. Stone’s lanky arms wrap around me tight, his hands groping down to my ass and then up between my shoulder blades. Our hips jut out, and I feel the hard bulge of his cock, thick against my pulsing erection.
Oh fuck. This feels really, really good.
And it’s not a betrayal to Milo, I tell myself. My ex and I aren’t together, so there’s nothing wrong with what I’m doing now.
Stone and I stumble into the living room of his apartment. There’s an old brown couch, a coffee table covered with mail and a few coffee mugs, and not a thing on the walls. When I pull him down to the couch, I land on a PlayStation controller, which I pull out and toss aside while he crawls on top, mounting me.
He smells like dirty ink and beer and sweat. I bury my face against his neck, licking and kissing and huffing his scent, which earns a deep, rough laugh.
“Fuck,” he groans, planting a hand on the armrest and pushing himself up. Somehow, I’ve wrapped my legs around his, and the stiff pressure of our cocks stays pressed close.
Denim bulge on denim bulge. Hot.
“I guess that answers one of my questions,” I tease him.
A half smile quirks up the side of Stone’s mouth. “What question is that?”
I rock my hips up, riding my cock harder to his. “Whether you actually like guys or not.”
A quiver crosses Stone’s face with my thrust, melting his stoic expression. “Yeah,” he gasps. “I guess it does.”
My hands land on his pecs, and I work my fingers over his T-shirt until I find the hard nubs of his nipples. Teasing him draws all these unexpected expressions to his face, glowing over the cautious hurt that usually lingers in his eyes.
“Have you been with a guy before?” I ask.
Stone turns his head down, and his long hair falls over his eyes. “Just once,” he says, rocking his erection to mine. “Three-way with my girlfriend. Years ago.”
I laugh and push his brown hair back, needing to see his dark eyes. “Back to partial sentences, are we?”
He barks a laugh. “Kind of hard to think,” he answers and groans as I rock my hips again. “Very hard.”
I laugh and pull him down beside me. “Erection jokes, very advanced for a second-time gay.” With a little shuffling, I climb up on top, straddling him at the hips. “Before we know it, you’ll be begging for my cock.”
Stone tenses, and I wince. “Sorry. Too advanced?”
“No,” he says, his voice rough. “I mean, I don’t think I want to do that.” He rubs his hands over his face and puffs out a breath. “I’m not sure what I want,” he admits.
I lean forward and kiss his cheek. “It’s okay. I’m really more of a bottom anyway. And I’m definitely not trying to do anything like that this afternoon. Right now, I just really want to feel your body.”
