Chapter 5
5
Dash
I refuse to act nervous as I lead Archibald Levine the Third into my apartment, which hardly has enough room to swing a cat. I’m not usually a guy with a lot of pride, but I can’t stop the way I straighten, braced to defend my living arrangements.
Levine passes me and drops onto the couch that we picked up for fifteen bucks at a flea market. The afternoon sun is struggling to make it through the yellowed windows, and okay, if he had something to say, I’d get it, but thankfully, he’s keeping his trap shut. I hover for a second, wondering if I should offer him a drink, or … how the hell do people do this? I’m so glad I don’t date.
Levine lifts his eyebrows, looking as comfortable here as he does at one of his frat parties. “My crown?”
“Answer me this first: are you going to ditch as soon as you get it?”
“How can I? You offered me pizza.”
“I knew it was the right choice.”
I duck into my room off the kitchen, trying to make myself breathe properly, and grab the plastic crown that feels like so much more than a stupid memento. Fuck, am I glad I picked it up that night. Before I leave my room, I check my hair, cringe as I realize it’s way past needing a cut and I can’t do anything with it, then give my shirt a quick sniff.
Mmm, stale sweat.
Shit.
I strip off my shirt and toss it into the corner, then hunt around for something clean. This could be it. My one shot. I’m going to flirt, but it’ll be up to him to make the first move since he’s here but hesitant. Wanting but too afraid to take.
There’s no risk for me except letting the guy I can’t get out of my fantasies slip through my fingers. On my way back out, I hesitate in the kitchen, then grab two beers before I can overthink it. It’s what I’d do for any friend who visited, and at this point, I could really use having something else to concentrate on than Levine’s mouth. His curls. Those broad shoulders.
I grunt and try to rid all that from my mind.
“Here.” I hold out the bottle, and he takes it gratefully. Hopefully, it’s because he needs as much liquid courage as me and not that he’s, like, an alcoholic. Neither of us is stupid. We both know there’s an attraction; we both know the other wants sex. But neither of us knows how to get to that point.
“Ever kissed a guy before me?” I ask, taking the seat next to him. I’ve never been happier about our cramped little apartment in my life.
Levine chokes on the sip of beer. “I thought we were starting a new conversation.”
“This is,” I protest. “We’ve moved on from homophobic families to past experiences.”
“That’s not what I meant when I said new topic.” His embarrassed smile is adorable. “I thought we’d talk football, or politics, or?—”
I groan. “You really want to talk about any of those things?”
His gorgeous eyes meet mine again, and he’s not doing anything to hold back the want there. “Y-yes?”
“Fine.” I smirk when he doesn’t hold back his disappointment either. “Which football players do you want to bang?”
The laugh he lets out is clearly unexpected. “Jesus, Dash.”
I set his crown between us, and the amusement slowly dies on his face. He’s got it now. There’s absolutely no reason why he can’t make up an excuse to leave. He stares at it for so long I’m worried he’s stroked out, but then he picks it up and leans forward to set it on the coffee table.
Levine turns his whole body toward me, elbow rested on the back of the couch. “Do you think it’s odd that all those players wear such tight tights? Then there’s that one guy with his face in his teammate’s ass and hand right up in his business, but all the dude bros think it’s the greatest thing they’ve ever seen in their lives?”
“Pretty sure that player is the QB and everyone’s favorite.”
Levine’s lips twitch. “An actual gay icon.”
“Jerk off about him a lot, do you?”
He shakes his head, but the blush is a dead giveaway.
“You filthy boy. You totally get off on the hot football players—look at how red you are.”
“You’re making me want to get up and leave.”
I light up at the way his eyes dip to my lips. “No one’s stopping you.”
“You’re so fucking irritating.”
“It’s what gets all the boys hot.”
Levine huffs and turns back to his beer bottle, wrapping his lips around it and drinking deeply. I don’t like how quickly it’s going down.
“You getting drunk again, huh?”
“No.”
“You sure? Because your version of drunk and my version of drunk are two very different things.”
I swear steam bursts from his nose. “This is a big thing for me.”
“What is?” I taunt.
He drinks more, then sets the glass bottle down heavily. “This.”
Levine doesn’t give me a chance to react when he grabs my shirt and hauls me his way. Our mouths crash together, and pure lust threatens to short-circuit my brain. He’s as confident and commanding as last time, confirming my suspicions that Levine might be nervous and unsure, but he’s been raised to be comfortable in any situation he finds himself in.
And right now, he’s finding himself under me.
I get my head straight and throw one leg over his thighs, fingers delving into the curls I can’t get enough of. They’re as silky as last time, twisting around my fingers and making my cock ache. I don’t dare touch it though. Don’t dare bring us any closer than we are. Touching him was the thing that brought him back to reality last time, and this time, I’m not making that mistake again. His dick is off-limits until he says it isn’t.
All I want is to focus on his mouth anyway.
Whether he’s kissed a guy before or not, he knows what he’s doing. His tongue licks into my mouth, jaw stretched like he’s melding us together, and the pure want is getting me so riled up I can barely stand it. Each kiss, each moan, each time he licks my lip and then sucks it into his mouth … I’m trying to work out if this feels like pure fire because I’ve been picturing it for so long or because my body knew our chemistry would be off the charts, but I don’t think I’ll get over this kiss for as long as I live.
A hand settles on my waist. The warmth from his palm thrills me, and even through his hesitance, he squeezes, grips tighter, finally letting his fingers dip under the hem and meet skin. It’s like I can feel him pushing for more, read the way he’s forcing himself to cross those lines, and it’s only when he does that, he realizes how fucking amazing it feels.
His other hand isn’t as hesitant. It dives under the front of my shirt, splaying over my abs, fingertips dancing over the impressions. His wrist is hovering right over my cock, and all I’d need to do to make contact is tilt my hips forward.
It’s painful to hold back, but if I’m reading him right, and I’m sure I am, he needs this. Needs me to let him explore and feel out his boundaries, and if those boundaries lead to more touching, I’m not going to complain.
My mind is mushy from the kiss when he suddenly jerks back.
His hands don’t move, but when my eyes flick open, I find him looking up at me. Rapid breaths pass between his kiss-swollen lips, his eyes that clear bluey-green that the ocean goes on a perfect day.
“I’ve never kissed a man before.”
My lips kick up on one side. “I figured.”
“I know you did. I know you’ve also probably guessed, uh …”
“That you’re a virgin?”
He frowns. “No. I’ve had sex plenty of times before, but …”
“Wait. So, you’re not gay?”
“I am.” He shakes his head, and I know where he’s going with this. Also know I don’t want to hear it.
“It was just with—” Before he can say more, I take over.
“You’ve never had real sex before,” I say, hand slipping from his hair down his neck. “Never felt this rush of want.” I play with the top of his shirt before resting my hand over his chest. “Never felt the way your heart might beat out of your chest because you’re so excited. The way your blood burns for that little bit more.” I lean in closer, and his mouth immediately tilts up for me, but I don’t kiss him. My knuckles run between his pecs and down his abs. “You feel me in here, don’t you? Deep, deep down, there’s that ball of need. That topsy-turvy feeling telling you that if you don’t touch me, you’ll die.”
He hisses as I drop my hand lower. Fingers trailing across the top of his Calvin Kleins.
“But most of all, you’ve never felt the ache in your cock that you do right now. Never felt the way it wants to explode. Wants to be touched. Wants my wet mouth wrapped around it.”
“Fuck, Dash.”
My stubble scrapes his as I dip my mouth to his ear. “Take off your shirt.”
He does it automatically, like he’s on strings. As soon as it’s gone, he goes to close the distance between us again, but I hold back.
“Now take off mine.”
Levine’s pupils expand, gaze dropping from my face to my chest. This time, he’s slower, throat bobbing as he swallows and reaches for the bottom. “This is so weird,” he mutters.
“Why? I might be a guy, but you’ve undressed people before, I’m assuming.”
This time when he meets my stare, his eyes hold a vulnerability I never thought I’d see in him. “Nothing like this …” He doesn’t look away as he pushes my shirt up and over my head. The exhale he lets out as he takes me in is strained and pinches something in my chest.
I’m so tempted to snark that no one is like me, so that checks out, but I bite my tongue. I’ve never been uncomfortable during sex before, so this might be a first, but it has nothing to do with the sex itself and everything to do with how he’s looking at me.
“So much hotter up close,” he rasps.
“You should see me naked up close.” The words slip out before I catch them, and I internally cringe at the thought I’ve fucked this all up. So much for taking it slow and letting him lead. No, my stupid brain wants my stupid cock out as fast as stupidly possible.
“Can I?”
The question catches me totally off guard, especially with the tone it’s asked in. This time, I’m the one not sure how the hell to move forward here because I’d strip us both off in a second, no worries; I’m just not so sure he’s ready for that. “How many dicks have you seen?”
“Outside of porn?” A flash of teeth with his quick smile. “Just yours. And you were whipping that thing around way too fast for me to get a good look.”
“And you want a good look now?”
His nod is slow but determined.
I climb off Levine’s lap. “Well, come on, then. Let’s go and get naked.”