Chapter 4
His lips tasted like beer and barbecue sauce.
That was my first thought when we kissed, and then his tongue parted the seam of my lips, and I lost the ability to think.
The sounds of cheering on the television behind us faded away to nothingness as he deepened the kiss.
My hands moved to his hips, pulling him in closer, as heat began to well in my gut.
His hands wrapped around my waist, and soon, our bodies were pressed together so tightly that I could barely tell where I ended and he began.
He kissed with the same passion as he watched football, the same passion I could imagine him doing anything with. He was captivating and intoxicating, and I was completely hooked. I didn’t want the kiss to end. I didn’t need to breathe as much as I needed this kiss to continue.
I didn’t think anyone could blame me for that.
When he pulled away, finally breaking the kiss, I chased after his lips.
It was like they were magnetized, and I was made of metal.
I wanted another, and then I wanted another one after that.
I wanted to keep kissing him until I forgot my name.
I didn’t think it would be that hard, not with the way his talented tongue had mapped my mouth.
“I’ve been thinking about that all week,” he admitted.
“So have I.” Maybe more than a week. Sometime in the last two weeks, his texts had become the highlight of my day. I found myself missing him, trying to come up with an excuse to hang out with him. I should have. Then, maybe this would have happened sooner.
“I want to do it again.” His hands cupped my face as he pulled me forward. I didn’t have time to think, to tell him how much I wanted to kiss him again before his lips were back on mine.
The first kiss had been passionate, but it had nothing on this one.
This kiss was hotter than anything I’d ever experienced in my life.
It was explosive and electric, and that small well of heat that formed in my gut turned into a blazing inferno that threatened to consume me.
I lost all power of coherent thought. My hormones took over, and I began tugging at his shirt.
The kiss broke long enough for me to pull it over his head.
I went for his lips again but missed as he moved at the same time, aiming for a different target.
His tongue traced patterns on the column of my neck, and I felt a sting of pain as he bit down.
A breathy moan escaped my lips as his tongue moved over the skin he’d just bitten, soothing it.
He repeated the process on the other side of my neck before he found my mouth again.
He began to walk me backward as we kissed.
We hit a wall, and he pressed against me harder, pinning me in place with his body.
I could vaguely hear the commentators on the television, but they couldn’t pull my focus.
I didn’t think anything could pull my attention away from him, not now and maybe not ever.
Not as long as he kissed me the way that he was doing now.
He ground his hips against me, and I could feel his body’s reaction. He was rock hard.
I wanted to help him with that. My hands moved down his bare torso to the button of his pants.
I deftly undid them. I was about to slide my hand into his pants when I felt him stop me.
Fuck, had I overstepped the boundary? I pulled away from the kiss and studied him.
His pupils were blown wide with lust, but his hand was still wrapped tightly around my wrist. It was a clear sign that what I was doing wasn’t fully okay with him.
I drew a deep breath to try to clear my mind. “Everything okay?” I checked in
“Yeah,” he answered, letting go of my wrist to lace our fingers together.
“Just figure the wall might not be the best place for this.” Honestly, I couldn’t see any reason why it wouldn’t be the best place for this, but I was lust drunk from the way he’d been kissing me.
I wasn’t thinking clearly, which had to be a first for me.
I had been told, on more than one occasion, that I was a chronic over thinker. “Bedroom?”
Well, that might be a better place for where this was leading.
I nodded, and he tugged my hand toward the door a few yards away from us.
It occurred to me, just as we passed through it, that he might have been trying to lead me there before we got distracted by our wall.
At least, I genuinely hoped that he had been trying to lead me there.
It felt more premeditated that way, less like we were both following a whim that had formed as our bodies ground together.
Not that it mattered. The end result would be the same either way.
The moment we stepped into the bedroom, I started to notice small details.
There was an old, framed Foxes schedule, an indistinguishable signature scrawled across the white.
His king size bed had a wrinkled blue bedspread over it.
It looked the way my bedspread looked when I tried to make it in a hurry.
Once I noticed it, I noticed other little details that indicated a hurried clean up: a lone sock next to the laundry hamper, the sleeve of something black peeking out from under his bed, the disheveled angle of the bed pillows.
I looked over at him and noticed the flush on his cheeks. “Did you clean up before I came over?”
“Maybe.”
I laughed and pulled him into me. “Wishful thinking?”
“Just wishing.”
It was a perfect answer, and I had what I thought was the perfect response.
I kissed him again. He pulled me toward his bed, and we fell backward onto it.
He landed on top of me, and we both laughed against one another’s lips.
I was glad it was him that landed on top.
I had a good fifty pounds on him, and I really didn’t think crushing him would be considered sexy.
It might put a damper on our evening, and that would be a tragedy.
Our evening was beginning to look very promising.
Laughter faded away into more kisses, and those kisses led to even more of them.
The kisses tasted of promise and potential, and I was looking forward to seeing how we fulfilled those to one another.
Something about the way he kissed told me that no matter what happened between us, I wouldn’t leave disappointed.
Within a few minutes, my shirt was abandoned on the floor, and he’d gotten my belt off.
Our pants followed soon after, leaving us making out and grinding against one another in our underwear.
My hands explored his body, and I swallowed down insecurities.
He was attractive in an almost unreal way, like someone that had just stepped out of a magazine.
I hadn’t kept up with my body after football, and the muscles had turned soft.
But when he began exploring my body with his hands, I didn’t get the impression that he minded.
He touched me like he found me just as attractive as I found him.
He kissed me like he wanted me. His hard cock told me the same thing, every time it dragged against mine.
Every touch left me wanting another one, and soon, grinding against one another as we made out like horny college kids wasn’t enough for me.
I wanted more. I needed more. I was desperate by the time I tried to slip my hand beneath the band of his black briefs again.
He didn’t stop me this time.
I wrapped my fingers around his shaft. It was a little slenderer than mine, but it felt longer. I gave a few tentative strokes and noticed his reaction. His lips stilled against mine and he began to puff out a few hot breaths. “Holy shit,” he finally muttered. “That feels good.”
“Yeah?” I questioned as I tightened my grip.
His reaction was immediate. His puffs of breath turned into a moan, and he rocked his hips, fucking his cock into the palm of my hand.
He was reactive. He was so damn reactive.
I wanted to find out what else caused him to react.
I wanted to taste him, touch him, tease him.
I wanted to fuck him into the mattress, and then I wanted to rest and have him fuck me into the mattress in return.
I wanted to do everything with him, and the longer we touched and kissed and explored, the more I realized that I didn’t just want a single time with him.
The realization hit me as hard as the moment I realized I liked him. It bowled me over like a freight train. My hand stilled, and his eyes opened. “What’s wrong?”
“I—” Shit. I was terrified that I was going to blow it. I was going to open my big mouth and ruin the chance of even having a single night with him.
Jason rolled off me and rested his head on his elbow, studying me.
I no longer had the weight or warmth of his cock in my hand, and I suddenly wished I did.
It might be easier to focus on my words if I had something to do with my hands, but that was hardly the right call.
He’d rolled over. It meant he needed space or was no longer in the mood, and I’d ruined it without saying a word.
“Vic?” he questioned softly. His hand cupped my face, his thumb moving lightly over my lip. I sucked it into my mouth, drawing another moan from his lips. “Tell me what’s on your mind, please?”
He was quieter than I’d heard him in the weeks I’d known him. He seemed almost vulnerable. I took a deep breath. “I want more than one night.”
There. I’d said it.
“Okay.” Was it really that simple? Had I once again overthought something that turned out to be incredibly easy? It seemed like it. “Can I kiss you again?”
I didn’t answer verbally. I kissed him back, harder than before.
Our tongues waged battle, and soon, we were both naked.
I wrapped my hand around our cocks, jerking us both as we made out, until I was almost on the edge.
Until we were both almost on the edge. Once again, it was Jason who grabbed my wrist and stopped me from bringing us to climax.
I groaned. I had never been into edging, and since we had more than one night, I was okay with just a mutual hand job. I was okay with getting off with him however I could manage, but if he wanted…
My thoughts derailed as he began to kiss down my body.
He stopped at my nipple, drawing it into his mouth and tonguing over it until it was a hard peak.
Then he moved to the other. Once he’d given both of my nipples so much attention that I felt like I was going to explode again, he began kissing down my stomach.
He didn’t seem to care that it was covered in hair.
My legs spread, giving him space to settle between them while he explored.
I knew where I wanted him to go, and based on the way he was going, I had a feeling I’d get my wish.
My breath caught as he continued his voyage. And then he started back up my body, not down, kissing along the side. I twitched, like I was trying to get away from him. When he looked up at me, his eyes were glittering with mischief. “Are you ticklish?” he asked, a taunting tone to his words.
Well, fuck. “No,” I lied. Or, at least, I attempted to lie. Judging by the look on his face, he didn’t believe me. “Don’t, Jason!”
“Next time,” he threatened.
I could only hope that he was so lust drunk that he wouldn’t remember.
At least he avoided my sides as he taunted and teased me with his mouth, going everywhere but my throbbing, leaking cock.
I was close to begging him to just touch me where I wanted to be touched already.
There was too much sensation, too much desire coursing through my veins.
I needed an outlet, but he was determined to kiss every part of me that wasn’t my dick.
I couldn’t take it.
My hands moved to his head, tangled in his blonde hair, and I dragged him down to my cock.
His hot breath was nothing more than a tease.
“Impatient,” he whispered. I could feel the word on the head of my dick.
Before I could comment, before I could push his head down to where I wanted it, he licked a bead of precum from my slit.
Just like when we kissed in the living room, the world narrowed down to us.
All that existed was me, him, and every place that he touched me.
He swallowed me down, and he began to work me over with that talented tongue of his.
I was already so charged that I didn’t think I would last long, but Jason was some kind of expert.
Every time I neared the edge of the cliff, he changed up what he was doing.
Before long, he had me begging and pleading, my hands tight in his hair as I thrusted up into his mouth, trying to get more.
I needed to get off. All thoughts of fucking him into the mattress were gone, because I didn’t think I’d last that long.
The moment he started tugging my balls, working them into the expert level blowjob he was giving me, I was gone.
I moaned as my release flooded his mouth, and he swallowed every drop.
When he pulled off, he crawled back up my body and kissed me hard.
The taste of beer and barbecue had been replaced by the taste of me.
I reached between us, taking his cock, and within a few strokes, he was cumming over my hand with a moan.
He collapsed onto my chest as we caught our breath. It may not have been exactly what I’d thought would happen when we went into the bedroom, but we had time for everything else.
This wasn’t a one-night stand. It wasn’t an ending.
This was a beginning.