“You’re hard,” he murmurs, squeezing a little. “Isn’t it proof enough? You get hard when a man touches you.”
I genuinely have to grip the sheets to stop myself from rutting against his palm with zero chill. And okay, yeah, maybe I don’t have any, but I have some dignity left. Okay, I don’t have that either. Whatever.
“My body’s already—you guys have been doing this formonths, okay? My body is basically Pavloved at this point. Someone lays hands on me and I’m already halfway gone. That’s not the same as actually being attracted to someone.”
Reid exhales through his nose. “If you wanna know if you like guys, I can help you find out.”
“How?”
“Data points. Isn’t that what you engineer boys do? Start small. One variable at a time.”
“Like?”
“Ever kissed a guy?”
“No.”
“There’s your first data point.”
My brain stutters. “Yeah. Could work.”
Reid hums low in his throat. His arm shifts from around my waist, guiding me over until I’m rolling onto my side to face him. His hand finds my hip again the second I settle, automatic.
I’ve seen Reid every day for months. I know his face. I know the resting-asshole expression and the dry almost-smile. But this close, in the thin morning light coming through the curtains, it’s different. His eyes are usually so dark, but this close I canactually see the color. Deep brown. Like the bottom of a really good cup of coffee.
He watches me watch him and doesn’t say anything about it.
I become very aware of my dick, which is still hard and pressing against his hip. He is aware of it too, and makes zero moves to acknowledge it or create distance.
“Okay?” he asks, quiet.
I nod, brain short-circuiting when his fingers slide along my jaw, tilting my face up. Reid’s mouth twitches into a smile, then he leans in very slow, giving me time to bolt.
I don’t.
His lips press against mine, dry at first. Then his tongue flicks my bottom lip, questioning, and my whole body tenses. Reid freezes like he’s waiting for me to shove him off, but I just tilt my head, letting him in.
It’s nothing like kissing girls. Reid doesn’t taste like cherry gloss or mint gum—just cigarettes and sleep. His teeth catch my lip, and I gasp into his mouth, my hips jerking up against his thigh. It’s weirdly soft, too. Not like the claiming thing he does when I’m dolled out. This is careful.
This is good.
His lips are softer than they look, too. I don’t know why that surprises me, but it does, and I suck on his bottom lip, a little shy, but wanting to feel it. He tilts his head slightly, shifting the angle and somehow that’s better. I feel my hand come up, without my conscious decision, and land flat on his chest.
Reid groans.
“Yeah,” he mutters against my lips. “You like that.”
It’s not a question.
I do.
Fuck,I do.
But I won’t justsaythat. I’m notthateasy.
“Dunno,” I say, a little dazed. “Need more data.”
Reid grins, and his hand slides from my hip to the small of my back. Then his mouth is on mine again.
