IN MY race to make out with Carson Cress again, I had forgotten all about my friend Kurt’s birthday party and my campaign to get my hands on Phillip Brooks. I was reminded, later that afternoon about three, when I was helping Matt put his stuff away and there was a knock on the door. Expecting maybe Greg or Pete or Rick back, I was instead faced with Kurt Butler.
“What?” I was confused because he was scowling at me.
“It’s my birthday, bitch.”
“Well, happy—oh shit.”
“Oh shit is right. The party’s in six hours. You better get your ass in the car so we can go pick up all the shit so you can start cooking.”
“Did you just say cooking?” Matt sounded confused as he was walked up beside me.
“Aww, crap, that’s today?” I groaned as memory stomped all over me.
“Yes, it’s today, and nice, by the way.”
“No, I didn’t—”
“You’re such a dick.”
“What exactly is going on?” Matt wanted to know.
There was no way out of it. I had promised, and in all honesty, what really was the alternative? What was my master plan? To seduce Carson Cress? I had seen all the specials on ESPN. I knew he was from old money, knew his hometown was Branson, Maine, outside of Rockland. His family was in the yacht business and had been shipbuilders and things like that in the past. They had the funds to groom his natural talent, find the best coaches to train him and nurture his gift. But they were also about charity and supporting their community, and Carson, as the youngest son, had embodied their philanthropic ideals. He was beloved there, and now, at school, had brought together rich and poor alike as the boy with the golden arm. People spoke of him like the Second Coming. They saw big things for him, a football career and then a political one. He could be—people were quoted as saying—“whatever he wanted.” Everyone loved him. But that would all change if he were gay.
Where was he going to be drafted if he was gay? He was going to do what, if he was outed? Professional athletes were not gay until they retired. So… what was I really giving up, a one-time hot roll in the sack? The worst-case scenario was that I would enjoy sleeping with him so much that I would throw away my own pride, step inside the closet with him, and lock the door. If I did that, became his secret, where would my self-respect go? Not that he would probably want me anyway, because this wasn’t serious, it was just fucking and then forgetting, and did I really even want the….
God.
Like it really meant that much to him, like it meant anything at all. How deluded did I have to be to think that I was actually that important to a guy like Carson Cress?
“So what do you want me to tell him if I see him?” Matt asked me when I was on my way out.
I shook my head. “He won’t notice.”
“Who won’t notice?” Kurt asked.
“If he does?” Matt pressed.
“If he asks, tell him the truth.”
“Tell who the truth?”
“Will you shut up?” I snapped at the birthday boy.
“So I should tell him that you’re blowing off the party he invited you to, to cook for Kurt Butler’s lameass birthday party?”
“Hey,” Kurt snapped at Matt.
“That I promised to do a month ago,” I added.
“Where have you been, Cooksey? I seem to recall you fucking Vince over for some girl.”
“You know what, Kurt—”
“Oh, fuck you, Matt, that was a total douche move, man.”
“Can both of you shut the hell up?” I asked, shoving Kurt out the door into the hall and turning on Matt. “If he even notices, tell him I follow through on my promises unless one trumps the other.”
“He won’t understand.”
“Again, he won’t even notice.”
“Wanna bet?”
“Sure. Loser pays the electricity bill.”
“You’re just all giddy now because you’re actually gonna have some extra money to buy some clothes with or see a movie.”
“I don’t need to buy new clothes, I have yours now.”
He laughed at me. “As if anything of mine would fit your scrawny ass.”
I sighed. “I am glad you’re back.”
“I know,” he said softly.
Kurt’s voice drifted back from the hall. “You guys wanna hold the make out session for later?”
“Fuck you, Butler!” Matt barked at him as I walked out and closed the door in his face.
“So who you tryin’ to fuck?” Kurt asked.
“Classy,” I grunted before I pushed him down the hall.
“What?”
STRANGELY enough, the out-of-body experience I’d been having for the first part of the day started to dissipate and I felt better. I had to focus on a task, and even though it was not exactly the way I had been planning to spend my first day off in two weeks, it worked out because it grounded me.
Once I was at Kurt’s house off campus, which he shared with three roommates, I remembered who I was. My day had been surreal, but it tipped back to center once I started cooking.
I had always loved to cook. My mother had taught me how to make a lot of Mexican dishes that her mother had taught her, and I had been doing the majority of the cooking by the time she met Gary. After I moved out of there and in with Matt and his family, I had wanted to do what I could to show them my appreciation, so I offered to cook. At first Mrs. Cooksey had been hesitant, but when she realized I could actually do it and everyone liked it, she let me cook more often and started teaching me to make the things she liked. So by the time I hit college, I could cook pretty well. Whenever I had the time and the money, I did it.
Kurt and I met in Philosophy class first semester of college and started talking about Chinese food because we were both starving. I told him if he bought the stuff, I would whip up some broccoli beef that he would like. It turned out he loved it, wanted to marry it, and so whenever he had extra money that didn’t go to buying weed, he invited people over for small get-togethers, and I would cook. We had a fantastic division of labor: he got what I told him to, and I prepared everything. When I walked into his kitchen that afternoon, both of us schlepping in bags of groceries, I was surprised to turn and see him looking at me oddly.
“What’s wrong?”
“I thought you were thinking of bailing on me.”
“I’m sorry about that. I just forgot.”
“Am I cockblocking you with this party?”
“No.” I chuckled. “You’re fine. And it’s your birthday anyway, and this is all I can do for you, since I’m poor and shit.”
“Your cooking is a treat, and I get to show off. I’m good.”
I gave him a pat on the shoulder, and then he went outside to grab more bags from his little Honda Civic hatchback that we had filled up. Four hours—we had spent one of the five until seven at the store—was barely enough time to get all the cooking done, so I had to get started really fast. It was nice that Kurt’s girlfriend, Eleanor—Ellie—was going to help me with the preparation. I needed someone to start chopping.
“What is that?” Ellie asked, watching me.
“That’s coarse black pepper and fine, you need both, and red onions, cumin, garlic, chili powder, salt—gotta have salt—lemon juice for the acidity, and vinegar, and—”
“How do you know how much to put in? You’re not measuring anything?”
“Oh, I’ve made this marinade so many times.”
“God, you’re amazing.”
I laughed at her.
She had more questions later. “Did you put cinnamon in that with the garlic cloves?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re sure you want to be a geneticist?”
“I can’t feed the world from one kitchen,” I informed her. “But I can if I develop the perfect plant….”
She just shook her head, ran the blender, and made us both another drink.
As the day progressed and we drank as we cooked—it was part of the fun, pouring one margarita after another—I relaxed and forgot about everything else. School didn’t matter, work, nothing. By the time Ellie was ready to run home to shower and change for the party, she was a giggly mess, and I was so mellow the house could have exploded around me and I would have found the silver lining. I also decided, after explaining it in depth to Ellie, that Phil Brooks was back on the menu.
“Really?” She had made a face over the rim of salt on her margarita glass. “I don’t see that at all.”
“No? Why?”
“He’s not that cute.”
“Since when do I care about that?”
She tipped her head back and forth. “That’s true. You’re all about the inner man, for someone so pretty.”
“What?”
“Oh c’mon, Vin,” she hiccupped. “I wish I had your eyelashes or your thick black curls or your bone structure.”
I laughed at her.
“I’m serious!” She beamed. “You have those big brown eyes and that perfect little nose and your pretty mouth.”
“Cue the banjos.”
“Ha-ha.” She waggled her eyebrows. “I’m just saying that you could have any of the gay boys you wanted, but you pick the smart ones.”
“Can’t be pretty and smart?”
“God, no, how is that fair to everyone else?”
I laughed at her, and she left me after shoving her empty glass into my hand.
“I bet you can corral the boy tonight, though,” she called on her way out.
That’s what I was hoping.
I needed Phil Brooks to really see me. He was sweet, funny, articulate, and scary smart. I liked his smile and his laugh, and whenever I saw him, we fell into easy conversation that I adored. I had decided I was tired of waiting for him to ask me out, and I was going to corner him that evening at the party. I was both excited and nervous. Shane, one of Kurt’s roommates, didn’t get it.
“Is that why you’re working so hard?” he asked, watching me prepare the trays of food for the party. “You think your culinary skills are gonna turn him on?”
I smacked his hand when he reached for a piece of flatbread.
“Jesus, Vin, what the fuck?”
“It’s for the party,” I snapped.
“He’s not hot.” Shane smirked at me. “Phil whatever, like, at all.”
“Yeah, but he’s kind,” I explained. “And I could do with some of that.”
He made a noise in the back of his throat. “Isn’t he an archaeology major or some bullshit like that?”
“His BA is in archaeology and his master’s is in anthropology,” I said, “but his PhD will be in biology. He wants to be a forensic anthropologist.”
“Because of something he saw on TV.”
“No, not like—”
“Oooh, fun.” Shane rolled his eyes as he bent to take a beer out of the refrigerator. “I bet you guys’ll have so much to talk about.”
I was betting that the man was a lot of fun if you got him where he felt safe, in his own environment. When I had been a guest in one of his lower level labs, I had been as entertained as the freshmen taking the class. And he had been so very pleased to see me there. Our lunch had been amazing. That was a week ago, so I was hoping I could build on it.
“Really?” Shane was not convinced.
“Did you hear what I said? We bonded, we had lunch. It was great.”
“He ain’t hot enough to fuck.” Shane yawned, picking up a piece of bruschetta from a different tray. “Damn, Vin, this is good.”
“Get out of the kitchen,” I growled.
“Come to my room with me. I’ll fuck you and you can feed me and we’ll live happily ever after.”
“You’re straight, Shane,” I reminded him.
“Yeah, but I like anal.”
I flipped him off as Kurt walked into the room.
“Ah, my minion,” he said, making his voice deep and spreading his arms wide. “How are you?”
I pointed at Shane. “Take him outta here.”
“You,” he told his roommate. “Stop annoying the help.”
“But it’s good,” Shane told him and stuffed another piece of bruschetta into his mouth.
“I know. Why do you think I asked him?” Kurt chuckled, turning back to me. “You know, you should just ditch college already and open a restaurant or your own catering business or some shit.”
“Uh-huh.” I wasn’t really listening.
“And God, you’re going to a lot of work here. I had no idea you cared so much about my party.”
“It’s not for you,” Shane assured him around the food in his mouth as I pulled another sheet of appetizers from the oven. “It’s to impress the TA.”
“Who?”
“Phil something.”
“Is it?”
“Yeah, did ya know they had lunch together last week?”
“I was unaware of that fact,” Kurt said, leaning against the counter, arms folded, ankles crossed, and his long, lean body looking fluid even at rest. He had a way of moving that made you think he was boneless. I had always admired that about him. It was as far as it went. “Lunch, huh. And that was it?”
Why was he looking at me like that? “What are you thinking?”
“Just that you might have missed something about Phillip Brooks.”
“Like what?”
He shrugged.
I straightened up, closing the oven door at the same time. “Do you know something you’re not telling me? Is he seeing another guy?”
“No guys that I know of.”
I squinted at him before I started moving again.
“So you’re going to what,” Kurt began, dark-gray gaze never leaving me as I bustled around the room. “Seduce him with your heavenly cuisine?”
I let out a snort of laughter. “We both know it’s far from heavenly.”
“No, I’ve had restaurant food that’s not as good as yours.”
“Awww, thank you, Kurt,” I teased him.
He flipped me off.
“You want another margarita?” Shane asked me.
“Yeah.”
“How many have you had today?” Kurt wanted to know.
“I dunno, why?”
“You’re all flushed.”
“It’s hot in here, that’s why.”
“Yeah, but your pupils are huge… you’re drunk.”
“I am not. Was Ellie drunk?”
“Yeah, off her ass. That’s why I put her in my bed.”
“She didn’t go home? She had a dress she wanted to wear.”
“Then I guess she shouldn’t have drunk her lunch and then like five more after that. Tequila will get you.”
I snorted out a laugh.
“Yeah, you’re out of it,” he chuckled. “You should sit down before you fall down.”
“I’m fine.”
“Hello!”
My head snapped up, and I realized that Kurt had moved from his languid lean against the counter to stand in front of me. “What?”
“I can finish. Why don’t you go sit down?”
I groaned, moving around him. “Like you know shit about cooking. I’m fine. Just get the hell out of the kitchen.”
“Vin—”
“Oh for fuck’s sake, Kurt,” I muttered, lifting the lid off the pot of mole sauce simmering on the stove. “Go out and greet your guests and stop annoying me. Shane, where the hell is my drink?”
“God, don’t get your panties in a wad,” Shane said, hitting a button so we could hear the blender crushing ice.
“Why don’t you do the mingling with me?” Kurt offered.
“Go away,” I told him. “You’re being a shitty host.”
“I’d rather stay here and annoy you.”
I growled at him but then realized I wanted something, so I smiled big instead. “Hey, when Phil shows up, tell him I need help in the kitchen and send him in here, okay?”
He nodded but didn’t move; the gray gaze just stayed locked on me.
“What?”
He shook his head after a minute and left.
“Oh shit.”
I looked over at Shane. He was pale. “Are you gonna pour that?”
He didn’t move.
“What?”
“Uhm.” He cleared his throat, hand raking through his thick brown hair. “Vin?”
“I was kidding before.” I laughed at him. “You can eat something. I have the camote warming in the oven, you want some of that?”
“Look at me a second.”
I had turned away to pull the homemade salsa out of the refrigerator, but I returned my eyes to his.
“How long has Kurt been, ya know, lookin’ at you like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like he wants to bend you over the counter.”
I let out a derisive snort. “I think you have me confused with Ellie.”
“Actually, no, I don’t. I’ve never seen him look at her like that.”
“Okay,” I sighed, holding out my hand for the margarita. “Put salt on the rim of my glass first.”
He shook his head and did what I told him. I liked people who followed directions.
WHEN more guests started arriving, they came in to say hello and swipe a bite of food. Once everything was ready, I started using them as servers, sending out a new dish with each person. After a while, Kurt poked his head into the kitchen.
“Are you going to come out here at all?”
“I’m cooking,” I told him.
“Yes, I know,” he said in that way he had that made me feel stupid. “But perhaps you might want to slow it down and actually enjoy my party.”
“Why?” I sighed. “I only want one thing out of this.”
“To get laid.”
“No, ass,” I snapped. “A date. I want the man to ask me out on a real date.”
“Dating.” He shivered. “And talking… Jesus, why?”
“You did it with Ellie.”
“No, I didn’t, I banged her the night I met her, and it’s convenient, so she sticks around.”
“That’s charming.”
“Why are you glaring at me?”
“Because Ellie loves you, and—”
“Please. Loves me, my ass. Do you know that we had a threesome two nights ago? El likes eating—”
“Oh God, don’t tell me.”
“You’re such a prude, man. Can’t hear about some girl parts?”
“I have no problem with girls,” I assured him. “I just don’t want to see any naked.”
“Yeah, well, we’re thinking that next we’re gonna get a guy.”
“Really.” I humored him since it was crap. “So you got the guy all picked out?”
“Yep, have for a long time. Although I’m not that sure I want Ellie there.”
“Which moves you from bi-curious to gay, my friend.”
He grunted as I drained either my fifth or sixth margarita. But I’d been drinking since four, so it was nice and spread out. I was about to put the glass down when Kurt moved over to me and took it out of my hand, stepping close enough that I had to tip my head back to look at him.
“You want another one?”
“Yeah, I’ll get Shane to do it when he gets back.” I smiled at him while moving away. “Now go mingle, it’s your birthday party.”
“Come out and stand by me.”
“Why?” I whined that time.
“Because I do better when you’re there,” he told me, shrugging. “I don’t say as much stupid shit.”
I gave him a dismissive wave. “Go host already.”
“Please.”
I looked at him, and he was suddenly grinning at me.
And I noticed, as I always did in those unguarded moments when he wasn’t being a complete and total ass, that his gunmetal eyes glowed when he was amused. The short-cropped white-blond hair with the darker highlights, his elegantly shaped brows, and sinful mouth were enough to make a grown man cry. His eyes made the man dangerous, as did the lean muscular body that moved with the fluidity of a dancer. He was the embodiment of carnal pleasure, and he would have made my heart stop if he didn’t know it. But he was more than aware that he was gorgeous and would let you know he knew, and that arrogance coupled with the casual love ’em and leave ’em attitude of his made him less than desirable. At the moment, Ellie was his girlfriend, but it had almost reached the two-month mark when he normally broke up with whoever he was with.
“Go,” I ordered, pointing, directing him toward the swinging door.
He left, and I got some more trays out when unsuspecting people came in looking for ice or beer or wine. I put things in their hands and they were steered back the way they’d come. After several minutes, Kurt returned, waggling his eyebrows at me.
“Oh God, what?”
He smirked at me. “Your boyfriend brought a date.”
I straightened up from where I was, bent over, taking another cookie sheet out of the oven. “What?”
“A date,” he reiterated. “Prince Charming brought his own plus one.”
“Are you serious?”
He grunted.
“Shit.”
“Sorry.”
“No, you’re not,” I groused.
“Yeah, no, I’m not.” He smiled at me. “But I guess to him, when you invited him to my birthday party—you did invite him, right? Otherwise I’m throwing his ass right out the—”
“Of course I invited him!” I had called him earlier that day.
“Well, apparently he missed that you were into him and missed the memo on you being gay, because for one, he brought a date, and for two… it’s a chick.”
“No!” I rushed to the swinging door to look.
“You’re gonna be pissed.”
Peeking through the crack, I gasped, and Kurt lost it.
“Holy fuck, that’s Barbara!”
He was howling behind me.
“The Biology TA that my best friend’s girlfriend was fucking behind his back is the guy I like?”
Kurt could hardly breathe.
I whirled around to face him. “You fuck! You knew!”
He picked up a potato masher to fend me off. “I figured, yeah. I saw them together a couple of times.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Awww, you look so sad.”
“Kurt!”
He was cackling. “What does it matter? I didn’t know you liked him until you told me just a little while ago, and you and Matt weren’t friends anymore, so I figured, fuck him.”
Crap.
“You want me to go out there and kick his ass?”
“No,” I sighed, putting the tray of flatbread on top of the stove to cool as I closed the oven door. “When do you want dinner out there? The appetizers are done.”
“You can start now. It’s already eight.”
I nodded.
“I am sorry,” he sighed, all laughed out.
But it was no longer important.
I WAS told by anyone who wandered into the kitchen that the food was phenomenal and that I should come out and eat and dance and hang out. I wasn’t in the mood. I wasn’t allowed to leave—Kurt made me promise not to—and so I was drinking another margarita and hiding out. I couldn’t face Phil, and one run-in with Barbara a day was one too many. Instead of running away, tail between my legs, I was sitting on the steps that led from the back of the kitchen door to the side of the house. One door led from there to the living room, the other you could make a quick getaway out of if needed. Leaning there, the cool night air on my face, I was comfortable. It was really hot in the kitchen, so to let some of the heat out was good. A lot of people bypassed the front door and came around the house; I heard them crunching through the fallen leaves on their way from the street to Kurt’s backyard. Everyone greeted me. Occasionally they stepped over me and went in through the kitchen, but mostly I just got head tips as they made their way past.
“What are you doing, sulking?”
I let my head fall back and looked at Kurt upside down.
“Well?”
“Yeah. Sulking.”
“Are you gonna eat?”
“I am eating,” I explained, holding up a chip for him to see.
“That is not food,” he said, sliding a hand through my hair. “Get up, come eat.”
I grunted.
“Please.”
“I’m good.” I smiled before I let my head loll forward so I could have another guzzle of my drink.
“Maybe you should hydrate.”
I made a noise as I swallowed.
“Like, drink some water, idiot.”
“I’m fine.”
“Come with me. Come talk to me.”
“I—”
“Hi.”
I turned to the greeting, in midsip, glass lifted, and found Carson Cress. It was lucky I had swallowed already or I would have choked.
“Cress,” Kurt breathed out above me.
“Hey.” Carson smiled up at Kurt, leaning close to me so he could offer him his hand. “Happy birthday, man. Matt told me you were celebrating.”
“I—yeah, I… holy shit,” he said under his breath before he found his footing and his voice. “Do you wanna come in?”
Carson shoved both his hands down into the pockets of his jeans. “I’m kinda starving, and whatever you’ve got in there smells fantastic.”
“Oh yeah.” He laughed, tousling my hair. “Vinnie promised to cook for my birthday, so he’s been slaving over a hot stove for like five hours, and whenever he cooks everybody shows up, so… what can I get you?”
The smile Carson gave Kurt lit his face, and you understood why he was on the covers of so many magazines. He was simply breathtaking. I loved the jeans and the white sneakers, the pale-blue V-neck sweater vest with the striped button-down long-sleeved shirt underneath. He looked good, collegiate, and I noticed as I had not earlier that his shoulders were really broad and his forearms were roped with veins. He had the shirtsleeves rolled up, and when he took the steps, sliding by me, without thinking I reached up and grabbed hold of his wrist.
“You okay?” he asked me softly.
I let go, mortified at my action.
“Oh man, he’s so drunk. I’m gonna hafta let him sleep it off in my bed tonight,” Kurt said.
I focused on the chain-link fence six feet or so in front of me and tried to breathe.
“Drunk, huh,” Carson said, and I felt his fingers sink into my hair, massage my scalp for a moment before he took hold and tipped my head back just a little. “You don’t need to sleep here. I’ll take you home, all right?”
I nodded.
“Okay,” he sighed as I closed my eyes and let my head fall back into his palm so that he was cradling it.
After a second he scratched gently and let go, and I leaned forward against the doorframe. I heard him and Kurt talking behind me, and then several people came up the stairs to go in the house. The longer Carson stood in the kitchen, the more people came in, until I had to get up or get trampled. I walked around the side of the house toward the front yard and found a spot on the edge of the porch. Sitting there on the railing in the dark, I could breathe again.
What the hell was he doing there?
I had almost dozed off when I heard something above me on the roof, and when I looked up, I saw long, muscular, denim-covered legs before someone dropped to the ground beside me, into the grass. The smile I got when I looked down was brilliant.
“What are you doing?” I groused at Carson, looking up to where he had been. “You could have killed yourself doing that.”
“Jumping off a porch roof to the ground?”
“Yes.”
“In what alternate reality do I hurt myself dropping ten feet onto grass?”
“You could have rolled your ankle.”
“If I had the athletic prowess of say… you… then, yeah, I might’ve.”
I growled at him, leaned over to give him a piece of my mind, but lost my balance instead and fell down on him.
He caught me easily, hands under my armpits, and put me on the ground.
“I rest my case.”
“I—”
“You cook really well,” he cut me off, leaning forward so I had to walk backward to bump against the side of the house. “I loved everything I ate.”
“Why are you here?”
He reached out and cupped my chin in his hand, his thumb sliding over my bottom lip. “You promised you were gonna see me tonight.”
“Yeah, but I—”
“And I get why you had to bail, Matt told me. And you didn’t have my number, so it’s not like you could’ve called or—”
“So you tracked me down just so you could get laid?”
“That’s what I thought,” he said, stepping closer so I had to tip my head all the way back to hold his gaze in the darkness. “But now I’m not so sure.”
“You don’t want to fuck me?”
He swallowed hard. “Can I just kiss you first?”
My hands slid up his chest, and I felt the wild hammering under my right palm that was over his hard left pectoral. “I make you a little nervous.” I smiled at him.
“Way more than a little,” he admitted, taking a breath before he bent close, his lips hovering over mine. “I’ve never been kissed like you did today.”
And I realized as my arms locked behind his neck and I pulled him down that I actually had him under my spell. Me. I did. The rush of it, the knowledge, brought a deep, throaty moan from my chest.
He must have liked the sound, because I was crushed against him, his hand knotted in my hair, his lips slanted down over mine, and I was devoured.
I opened for him and his tongue met mine, reacquainting itself with my taste, my heat, and every other part of my mouth. There were soft whimpers and whines. He ground the hard bulge in his jeans against my groin, and when my hands tugged and pulled, getting under his vest and shirt to the hot skin, he jerked under my palms and tore his mouth from mine.
“Yeah… okay,” he panted. “So, uhm, no one has ever gotten me this wound up this fast, so I think, uh… bed. Let’s go to your house and go to bed.”
I licked my lips, and he lifted his finger to trace over the same spot.
“You like my tongue,” I teased him.
“I like all of it.” He was firm, taking my face in both hands. “But mostly your eyes are driving me nuts.”
My eyes? “What?”
“Yeah,” he said, his voice coming out in halting rasps. “I just… they’re really dark and big and beautiful.”
“Baby,” I whispered. “I think you like boys.”
“I like you.” His voice bottomed out. “There is no doubt about that.”
“Does that scare you?” I asked, my voice just barely audible, only the two of us being able to hear.
“No,” he promised.
I turned my head slowly, gently sucked his right thumb into my mouth, coating it, laving it, licking it, swirling my tongue over his flesh, and tasting him as I would have never dared to. The shudder that tore through him made me catch my breath.
He exhaled sharply, eyes locked on my mouth. “Please just take me home with you. It’s all I want right now.”
I smiled at him. “Okay.”
“Yeah?”
I couldn’t control my grin. “Yes.”
“Oh thank God,” he groaned, grabbing me, turning, and throwing me over his shoulder in a fireman carry. “I didn’t want to have to knock you out.”
“You were not going to knock me—”
“Oh the hell I wasn’t,” he exhaled as he turned and carried me toward the hedge between Kurt’s house and the neighbors.
“What’re you—oh crap!”
They were tall bushes, but the needles were soft or we both would have been torn to shreds. It was dark on the other side, no lights on in the house there as he put me down and smiled at me.
“What are you doing?”
“Walking us the long way back to my car.”
I took a step back. “You can’t be seen with me?”
He stepped forward. “I can’t be seen with anyone or it will make the news.”
“You know, maybe this—”
“No,” he cut me off, hooking a hand around the back of my neck and yanking me forward, using his thumb under my chin to tip my head up. “I’m coming home with you. You said I could.”
His thumb was tracing up and down my throat as he eased me closer.
“This is a bad idea.”
He grunted and then bent and kissed me.
I parted my lips under his, and his tongue slipped into my mouth, finding mine and tangling. His arms were tight around me as he lifted me a couple of feet off the ground and walked me backward to stop against the side of the deserted house.
He pinned me to the wall, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, rubbing, grinding, needing the friction on my suddenly hard, leaking cock.
His whimper was deep and soft, and I felt the tug and then heard the jingle of belt buckle, the snap and zipper.
It wasn’t a good idea. Anyone could see us. Well, they could if they were looking in the darkness, between the houses, around the side.
I gasped when his hand slid over my stomach, under my shirt, across bare skin now covered in goose bumps. I wasn’t cold, it was him. All him. I was a quivering ball of arousal.
“I just want to… oh God,” he groaned, low and husky as he reached under the elastic waistband of my briefs and fisted my erection.
I jerked as his fingers tightened and then started slowly stroking. “Stop. I’m drunk and you don’t—”
“I wanna touch it… it’s like velvet in my hand.”
Swallowing hard, I pushed in and out of his grip, not caring that the head of my shaft was drooling precome onto his fingers. “Get your pants down.”
“What?”
“Get out your dick, put it next to mine.”
His breath caught. “No, I—”
“Do it now or put me down.”
He plastered his rock-hard chest to mine, shoving me against the wall, not taking any chances that I could wiggle free. I heard the clink of metal and then another snap and zipper before he eased back and let me sink down around his hips.
His cock was huge, with a wide mushroom head. When I wrapped my hand around it, I felt the heavy veins and the silky glide of his skin. My thumb slid through sticky precome, and I smeared it over the slit.
He shuddered under me, and when I took both cocks in my hands, pressing them together, the two lengths rubbing, skating, and sliding, he caught his breath.
“Feel good?”
All I got was nodding.
“You want to bury your cock in my ass, don’t you?”
More nodding.
“We could do it right here, right now, and—”
“Want the bed,” he whispered, his breath coming in halting gasps as our cocks slid together faster, the play of hot skin on hot skin blocking out everything else.
“You’re gonna feel so good inside me.”
“Oh God.” He convulsed, and there was at once wet, sticky heat between us as he spurted over my abdomen.
I was a second behind him, pulsing in my own hand, coating my fingers and our dicks, unable to keep from trembling as he mashed us together, fusing sweat and come and skin. I opened my mouth to speak and he attacked me, shoving his tongue down my throat, his hands cupping my ass, trying to pull me even tighter against him.
My body welcomed the mauling, and I went boneless in his grip under his hot, demanding mouth. I returned the kiss, suckling his tongue, until my head was pounding and there was no more oxygen. Wrenching free, I took a gulp of air before he was on me again, his lips sealing to mine as we sank onto the cool grass, his heavily muscled body covering my leaner frame easily.
His hands touched my face before he nudged my head back and pressed his lips to my throat, his tongue sliding over my skin.
“We should go.”
“Yeah,” he agreed as he ran his teeth along the cord in my neck, nuzzling, licking, until he reached the flesh that joined to my shoulder. The bite made me jolt under him, bow up off the ground, press my now flaccid cock to his washboard abdomen. “Okay, yeah, I wanna do stuff.”
He was suddenly a whirl of activity, yanking me up, pulling up his jeans, tucking himself into his briefs, zipping, snapping, and working his belt.
I was slower, more dazed than he.
“Hurry up,” he barked softly. “I got plans.”
“Plans?”
“Yeah.” He grinned. “Will you let me?”
“Will I let you what?”
“Whatever I want.”
My brain shorted out. “Yeah, I’ll let you.”
His smile was breathtaking. “Okay, then, let’s go.”
“It’s that simple for you?”
“How is it simple? I’ll have to tell everyone about you. That’s gonna be one helluva thing, don’t you think?”
I reached out for the side of the house because I needed to brace myself so I wouldn’t fall over. “What are you talking about?”
He came close, hands on both sides of my neck, even in the darkness; I knew tenderness and hope when I saw it. “Well, we’re gonna date, right?”
“Date?”
“Aren’t we?”
“You wanna date me?” My voice sounded high and squeaky.
“Uhm, yeah.” He chuckled, stepping closer, tipping my head back. “I’m not gonna just let you kiss other guys… sleep with other guys…. I like you, why would I do that?”
“You met me last night.”
“But I’ve wanted to talk to you for over a year.”
“Which is slightly psychotic, right?”
“Yeah, but only slightly.” He sighed, bending to kiss me.
I pulled free before he could press his lips to mine and walked backward away from him. “You’re gonna go pro.”
“Maybe.”
“No ‘maybe’, most certainly.”
He shrugged, stalking me.
“It’s your dream.”
“It’s my family’s dream.”
“And how do you plan to take care of them without football?”
“Don’t have to take care of them.”
“Fine, when you’re disowned, disinherited, how do you plan to take care of yourself without football?”
“How do you know they’ll throw me to the wolves? Is that what happened to you?”
“We’re not talking about me. We’re talking about you. What’s your fallback?”
He tapped the side of his head.
“Oh, you’re smart, are you?”
“Very.”
“If you’re so smart, how does announcing that you like dick help you in any way?”
“You’re very crude for a Biology major.”
“I—”
“And by the way, Phillip Brooks?” He made a face and shook his head. “He’s in my frat and he’s a dog. You don’t wanna be anywhere near him.”
I kept backing up and he kept coming forward. “Well, apparently he only likes girls, so you don’t have to worry.”
“I wouldn’t worry anyway,” he assured me, charging fast, reaching me easily, and taking hold of my hips to pull me forward so our bodies were flush. “Because you were thinking I was a dick and just wanted to experiment, but now you know I’m serious and I wanna see you and figure out how we fit.”
Was I awake? “Is this a joke?”
“You asked me that before, and no, no joke.”
“I think I fell down the rabbit hole.”
“Nope,” he growled, nudging at my nose with his until I lifted my chin and he kissed me.
If he was kidding, if he was going to bail on me, deny knowing me in public, or even if he was planning something even more sinister, I couldn’t be made to care. I was definitely in lust, completely infatuated, and there was nothing I could do. If he wanted to follow me home, I would let him and say yes please on the way.