Chapter 4 #2
We’ll just put aside the fact that it may or may not have been one of the best, if not the best, kisses I’ve ever felt. I’ve kissed him a thousand times before—cheek kisses, forehead, nose, head kisses—it’s not even the first time I’ve kissed him on the lips, but nothing has ever felt like that.
We’ve never had kisses with fire.
I look at him now, really look at him, and try so hard not to see all the things I feel.
His soft red lips that I know are so pliant against mine.
His messy black hair that I’m almost certain I had my fingers in while he kissed me, no glasses on, just beautiful big brown eyes drunk with lust. I love it when he sleeps against me.
I love to cuddle, but when it’s Bo . . .
that’s my favorite. My own little slice of heaven on earth.
Shit is just different when we’re together.
It’s normal. It’s fine. This is how friends are, that’s all it is.
Bo is my favorite person, so of course I feel like this.
My breath catches as I try to force myself to tell him it was nothing.
I need a distraction, that’s all. The lines were blurred and that’s on me.
I just need to straighten them out . . .
no pun intended. “I just need to clear my head, Bo.”
“Last night wasn’t clear for you?” His cheeks puff a little.
“I took advantage of you last night. We were both drinking and I—”
“Excuse me?” His eyes widen comically into saucers behind his glasses.
“Don’t you dare.” His slender fingers ball into fists.
“That’s an excuse, Cam. That’s bullshit.
If you didn’t like it, or you made a mistake, fine.
But don’t you dare tell me you took advantage of me last night.
If you want to go fuck someone else, don’t act like you’re doing me a service. ”
“Bobo, wait—”
“It takes two, Cam. It took two. We weren’t even tipsy then. Knock it off.”
I come around the island, my legs eating up the distance in three strides before I grab his hands in mine.
Yanking them out of my grip, Bo shakes his head.
“Listen to me,” I beg, but instead he looks away.
He’s slowly shutting down and it’s all my fault.
I cry when I’m upset, but Bo, he turns to diamond.
Unbreakable. Stubborn. “I love you more than anything. You know that. You’re my favorite person.
Last night, after all the bullshit yesterday, I wasn’t in a good place.
” I think I see his chin quiver just a touch.
This right here. This. I’m already fucking up. “I’m so sorry, okay?”
“I need to get to work.” He looks back up at me, emotion wiped clean from his face.
“Bowen—”
“Get limes and coconut milk today. I want to make that limeade drink you make later.” He thinks a minute. “Some kind of chocolate with peanut butter too, please,” he says simply.
“Bowen. Please, wait, I just—”
His dark eyes harden on me. “It’s fine, Cam. I’ll say it for you. It was just a mistake.”
When I get back to the apartment I set the groceries down.
I’d gone to the gym and worked out for a few hours.
Sundays are really quiet, with most of our staff not there on the weekends, which was great because it meant I could just think.
The quiet didn’t settle my thoughts like I’d hoped, though, so I went to the store and maybe went a bit overboard, but I’m stressed out.
When I’m stressed I bake, and eat my worry away. Food fixes everything.
Or I really hope it will.
I’m just sad, and when I’m sad I get hungry.
I plan to make buffalo chicken flatbread pizza with a cauliflower crust for Bo tonight because it’s one of his favorites, and I’ll be groveling on my damn hands and knees if I need to. The hurt in his eyes has followed me all day. What’s worse is the lie my mind has convinced me to tell.
It was a mistake, dammit! I didn’t mean to, it just happened.
Hello stomach swoosh, calling me a liar. Stop it! It was a mistake and can never ever happen again. I’ll apologize until I’m fuckin’ blue. I refuse to hurt him over something as stupid as a damn kiss.
An amazing, toe-curling, stomach-scorching kiss.
“If you don’t stop these thoughts, I will slap you,” I say out loud to my dick, heart, or brain. Probably all three. I don’t know. Someone better be listening!
The other thoughts, though, the ones I’ve refused to look at fully have been loud as well.
Bo came out to me in high school. I did not care; who he loved was irrelevant to me.
But the thing that’s bothering me now is .
. . did it mean something more to him last night?
No, right? Not once has he ever hinted at having feelings for me, and why the hell would he?
He’s seen me at my absolute lowest. He knows what a dork I am, what a mess my life can be.
There’s no way he’d find me attractive, let alone like me that way.
He tells me everything. In fact, I’m always the one to initiate contact.
I just love to touch. My love language is physical affection, he knows that.
From the outside, people may assume we’re more, but the kisses, cuddles, and hugs are what make us us. So no. No, Bo doesn’t have feelings for me. He was just horny too, like I was. I need to shake this off. All of this is snowballing inside me and swelling. I need release.
After I put the groceries down, I go over to my laptop on the coffee table and sink into the couch. My knee bounces, and I stare at the laptop a moment before I give in to the thoughts in my mind.
Fuck it.
I open it, looking around his apartment as if I’m not the only one here.
Bo will be at work a little longer, so I decide to go to a website I use to watch porn on occasion.
Only this time I click the side that says gay.
When everything loads, I’m smacked with video after video. It’s a bit overwhelming.
With straight porn I don’t really focus on the guy much. He’s more an object there to please the woman he’s with. Now I can’t escape it.
Picking a random one, I watch two men undress each other.
They’re attractive and fit, and they seem super into each other.
I watch one drop to his knees and—oh wow, okay, he pulls down his sweats and the guy’s cock springs free, hitting him on the chin and making him laugh.
He looks up, and so much need drips from the guy who’s standing .
. . waiting. His dick is a bit bigger than mine, and I watch it hang there before the other guy’s lips.
He leans in, a moan exploding from his throat as he takes him deep.
Pulling slowly back off his cock, he moans a bit more, then leans in to kiss the tip of his dick and take him between his lips again.
I look down at my lap. Nothing’s really happening.
I don’t really like the gagging sounds—they’re making me want to gag myself.
It’s hot, I guess, in the way that sex is hot. Still, I don’t feel much.
“Not much to say now, do you?” I hiss at my crotch. “Where was this energy last night, huh?”
My brain is an asshole, though. It’s out to get me.
My thoughts shift and morph dangerously as I watch the guys, but then I think about Bo.
What if he were on his knees for me. What if it were him choking on my dick?
Inhaling my scent. Savoring my body. Big brown eyes and pouty lips.
What if it were him sliding down my briefs, leaning in to inhale my scent.
Licking my balls, fuck, sucking the head of my cock into his wicked mouth. That sharp tongue licking my shaft.
I know he’d look up at me, hitting me with those big beautiful eyes.
My cock stirs.
My brain is a monster.
I just can’t stop thinking about it. I set the laptop on the coffee table and reach inside my shorts.
I just grip it a little. Just a squeeze.
Just enough to tease. For a moment I watch the two men.
The top has his partner ass up on the bed, and he dives in.
Fuck, I love eating pussy. I love the way girls taste, the way they sound, and the way they smell.
I love the way thick thighs tremble as they’re pushed to the edge.
Would Bo taste that sweet?
Images come fast and hot. I could do it. I know I could. Spread his legs and bury my face between them . . . “Shit.” I lift up, pulling my gym shorts down and letting my dick free. I don’t have lube, so I spit in my hand then gather the precum pearling from my swollen tip.
Leaning my head back against the couch, I close my eyes and let my thoughts run wild.
I’d use my tongue, and lick him till he was begging to come.
Would he let me finger him? I’d slip right into his tight hole, coaxing him open.
I’ve only had anal one other time with a girl, and it’s been years, but I know I’m a lot to take that way.
I’d make sure he was ready . . . begging.
Desperate for my cock to split him open.
I’m pumping faster, my dick weeping at the thoughts I can’t stop flashing in my mind.
One eye pops open to the two men on screen.
Close up, I watch the guy’s cock slide inside the other one’s ass, and again, it’s okay.
It’s hot I guess, but when I close my eyes it’s Bo spread out for me.
I’d want him to cling to me. I want to watch him come as I bury myself deep inside him and kiss him breathless.
“Fuck!” I come on my stomach, rolling my hips up into my fist in short little jerks. The two men on screen finish, and I’m no closer to figuring this out.
I get up and go to the sink to clean myself up.
So uh, two men fucking? Meh.
Me fucking Bo?
Not so meh.
Once my hands and stomach are clean, I close my dumbass laptop and grab my phone. I’m not sure what’s going on with me, but I need air. I don’t know what the hell has happened to me in the last forty-eight hours, but it needs to stop.
Bo has always been my comfort human, but never has that comfort involved orgasms.