Chapter 17 #2
“It’s not cheating. I already answered. I want to see what it says.” I reach for it again, but Oliver holds it over his head as though I’m not a full three inches taller than him. “I’m right, aren’t I? It’s Captain Planet.”
Oliver smirks. “Fine, you’re right. But that one was far too easy.”
I snatch the card from him as he lowers his hand.
He’s right, it was basically a gimme, but the game has been tied for a while, and I’m desperate for a win.
“And that makes ten. I win.” I hold up the cards in my stack, showing off the ones I’ve gotten right.
I probably got at least twice as many wrong, but that doesn’t matter right now.
“I demand a rematch.” Oliver crosses his arms over his chest and pouts. I love this side of him, the version that’s competitive and demanding.
“And I will happily grant you one, but not tonight.” Oliver’s face falls, and I briefly think about reconsidering, but it’s getting late, and we both have to work tomorrow.
Plus, I’d love to have a few minutes alone with him.
I’ve spent the last two hours watching his every movement, cataloging the various expressions on his face.
Everything from confusion over questions to elation over getting one right, especially when he was clearly guessing.
We’ve spent months getting to know one another, but for the first time, I let myself really look at him. Something about it being a date gave me the permission I’d been looking for.
It’s only when I look at his face now that I realize what I just said.
A rematch is a second date. Or some other number if this isn’t where we come next time.
I haven’t let myself think beyond tonight.
Not that I expected anything to go wrong, but I’ve rarely had this much fun on a first date.
Usually, they’re at a stuffy restaurant where the chairs are too hard, and the music is some annoying crap.
Tonight didn’t have any of that. And some of that is because I picked this place, but it’s also in no small part because of how comfortable Oliver makes me feel.
I pay our final tab for the beers and burgers we ordered while we played, and I lead the way out to the car.
My fingers brush up against his as we make our way down the sidewalk, and I think back to the promise I made myself on the way in.
I could chicken out, and I’m the only one who would know.
I suck in a deep breath, but before I can make a move, Oliver slides his fingers between mine.
He looks over and raises his eyebrows at me, asking if it’s okay.
I manage a nod, barely able to swallow, my throat is so tight.
Fuck. He’s making it so hard for me to take this slow.
The drive back to his place is mostly quiet. A few times, Oliver asks a question about a place we pass, but otherwise, there’s comfortable silence between us. It gives me time think about how I want to end the evening.
It’s been weeks since the two of us did anything physical.
I know Olivers anxious to get us back in the bedroom.
I am, too, but I also know how often I’ve screwed up relationships by focusing on the physical components.
Everything in our screwed-up friendship and friends-with-benefits starts and ends with sex.
And, if I’m being honest, that’s true about a lot of my relationships. Oliver is special. I want this to be different. That means I have to put what my cock wants aside for the night—and maybe a few nights—and focus on the other aspects of our buddy relationship.
When I pull into the parking lot of Oliver’s building, I’m still not entirely sure what I’m going to do. All I know is that time is running out to make a decision. I walk him up to the main door, because I’m still a gentleman.
“Come up?” Oliver asks, his eyes sparkling as he bites his lower lip. It’s a hard offer to refuse, especially since I know we’ve both been looking forward to tonight for a while. It’s not hard to imagine the images running through his head, the two of us caught up in the throes of passion.
“Not tonight.” His face falls, and I’d do anything in my power to fix whatever it is he’s feeling inside right now.
“You didn’t have a good time?”
“I had a great time.” I put my finger under his chin and gently tilt his head up so that he’s looking at me. “Sex complicates things, and I want us to build something that’s not entirely physical. So, for tonight, I’m leaving you here.”
“You could still come upstairs. We could talk or watch something.”
I shake my head. I would kill for that kind of self-control, but I know exactly what will happen if I go inside with him.
Once we’re safely away from prying eyes, I’ll have my lips and hands all over him, doing all the dirty things I’ve been thinking about for the last several weeks.
It’ll be mere minutes before we’re stripped naked, and I’m enjoying the way it feels when our cocks bump against one another.
“You and I both know that’s not what would happen.
” I lean in and brush my lips against his cheek.
The way he sighs is almost enough to break my resolve.
If that’s how he sounds from a chaste cheek kiss, I can’t wait to hear what he’ll sound like when his cock is buried deep inside me. “This is a good thing. I promise.”
“I trust you.” Those words hang heavy between us. I swallow hard, desperate to make sure I don’t let him down. It’s a tall order, one I’m not sure I can live up to.
I lean in again, hovering near his lips. Just because I’m not taking him to bed doesn’t mean we can’t end the date on a high note.
Oliver’s breath stutters before he leans in and captures my lips.
My knees nearly give out when we touch; the only thing holding me up is my hand pressed against the wall.
We’ve kissed before, many times, but always as part of foreplay on our way to the bedroom.
This is entirely different, the way it lights up my whole body.
Oliver moans and opens for me, our tongues tangling together.
I’ve never experienced anything like this before.
We make out, devouring each other like it’s the last chance we’ll get until someone nearby clears their throat.
Instinctively, I make myself big enough to hide Oliver from prying eyes.
He’s the one who has to see his neighbors in the hallway every day.
The last thing he needs is them giving him dirty looks.
“Sorry,” I say as I shuffle us a few inches so the man can get inside the building. He mumbles something as he walks toward the stairs, but I can’t make out any of the words. Probably for the best.
One look at Oliver and it’s clear what we’ve been doing. His dark hair is disheveled from my fingers running through his short locks, pulling in every direction, his lips dark and puffy from all the kissing. Who knows how long we’ve been out here? It feels like forever and yet not long enough.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say, taking a step back and adjusting my aching cock in my pants. If I stay here another minute, we’ll wind up wrapped around each other again. While I’m not complaining, I have no interest in turning either of us into a public spectacle.
“Yeah.” His chest is still heaving as he catches his breath.
“Sleep tight,” I say. I don’t know where that came from. I don’t say it to anyone else, but I can’t stop speaking to Oliver.
“Good night.” He lingers a moment, as though he’s unsure what to do, then taps his key fob against the door and disappears into the building. I stand frozen, watching until he disappears into the elevator.
I barely process the drive home, my whole body still floating on air after that incredible kiss.
Inside, I strip down and go through my nightly routine.
My face is red where Oliver’s scruff rubbed against my skin.
As I dry my face, I press my hand against the sensitive spots, a reminder of how good it felt to have him close to me.
I don’t know what that man is doing to me, but I can’t wait for him to keep doing it.