“I hope it doesn’t change anything between us because I’d still really like to do those things,” he answers hopefully.
Well, fuck. I really have been miserable attempting to put space between us. I missed him terribly, but maybe I don’t needto miss him anymore. He’s saying he wants to keep being friends, and he’s saying he wants to repeat his hookup withme.
That shouldn’t make me feel special, but it does, and I am ninety-nine percent sure I’m going to agree.
Fuck.
I told myself I’d never put myself in the position of hoping for more with a straight guy again. But Will is still Will. Even if he’s making an exception to his no-repeats rule, he doesn’t do relationships. That’s a completely different realm, so I know exactly what this is.
Even if I know a relationship is what I’d really want, I think this week has made it clear being apart from Will doesn’t make me happy. I’ll take being with him physically rather than not at all. It’s far too late as far as my feelings are concerned. So what difference does it make if I need to get over him now, while we’re still in class together, or if I do it in a couple of weeks? Maybe we can even keep it up for the rest of the semester and have a clean break when I go home for the summer.
Plus, this way I’ll get to keep hooking up with him, and how am I supposed to say no to guaranteed orgasms with the hottest man I’ve ever known?
I’m not that strong.
“Wow, Will. I must be really irresistible if you’re breaking your rules for me,” I finally tease, putting on my bravest front in an attempt to cover up how nervous I am right now.
“Completely,” he agrees with a relieved smile. “I couldn’t stay away.”
My heart soars at that, but I know this is just about sex for him. He said it clear as day. So I maintain my light tone deciding I’m doing this. I’ll deal with the emotional fallout of him not returning my feelings when he’s done with this new arrangement. “Clearly. A week away from me, and you’re showing up with half a flower shop.”
He smirks, biting his lip. “There’s a card.”
I walk over to the vase, where I finally notice a card attached to the bow tied around it.
P,
I dare you to teach me more
– W
Here goes nothing.
32
WILL
Porter is pulling me toward his room before I can decipher his reaction to the latest dare. I figured the last two had gone so well for me that trying another couldn’t hurt, and it seems like I was right. At least this time we finally talked, and I’m so happy he seems as eager as I am to continue hooking up.
As soon as we’re inside and his door is closed, he starts yanking at my clothes. I smirk as I remember what he’s wearing. It took me all of two seconds to realize Porter was in my lacrosse hoodie. I wanted to comment on it, but it wasn’t the time. I have no idea when I left it here, but seeing him open the door in it when he didn’t even know I was coming was the confidence boost I needed to give him the flowers with the note. I love seeing him in it, and my mind is already running wild with ideas of other things of mine he could wear.
Reluctantly, I lift the hoodie off and over his head, and the cold air has his nipples hardening instantly. I lean forward and take the right one into my mouth, sucking as he lets his hands rest on my waistband. I might’ve asked him to teach me more, but I could tell he liked it when I took control last time.
“Tell me what you want,” I pull back to look down at him again without removing my hands from his waist. When I’m around him, instinct takes over, and it’s like I need to be touching as much of him as possible.
“Whatever you’re willing to give me,” he whispers.
I don’t have to think about it—I cup his jaw and lean it to bring my mouth to his. The kiss is soft at first. I’m not sure if this is what he had in mind, but I love kissing, and more than anything else, in this moment, I want my lips on his.
He lets out a soft sigh, opening up for me, and I seize the opportunity to deepen the kiss, pulling his full bottom lip between mine and sucking before I push my tongue into his mouth. Porter melts into me. I’m not even sure if he’s supporting his own weight anymore, or if the arm I’ve wrapped around his waist is holding him up. All I can focus on is the way he’s matching every move of my mouth with his own while still letting me control the kiss. It’s so fucking hot. He sucks on my tongue while I grip his ass, and I grind my aching cock into his.
Oh fuck, he’s hard too, and I love the confirmation that he’s as into this as I am.
I push him back onto his bed, hating the momentary loss of contact but desperate for more. I crawl over him and roll us on our sides, face-to-face, our bodies pressed together from chest to knees. I need more, but I don’t even know what to ask for, so I kiss him again, and as I do, he takes my hand, lacing our fingers together, and guides it down between our bodies.
His grip is firm as he presses my palm flat against his stomach, then lower, over his hard cock that’s still trapped beneath layers of clothing. He doesn’t let go. He just holds my hand there before he starts to move.
My breath hitches, and he bites my bottom lip, but it doesn’t distract me from what else is happening. This is different. Intimate, even. It’s him showing me exactly how he likes to be touched, using my hand as his own. I can feel every twitch,every pulse of him through the thin fabric of his sweatpants and briefs as he rocks his hips in time with the movements.
