Chapter 36
JACKSON
Ishould feel guilty about having seen Ryan so little since the night of the sensual art performance. But it’s hard to focus on guilt when Drew’s tongue is doing things to my ass that make my eyes cross.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” I gasp into the pillow, my hands fisting in the sheets as he spreads me wider. The Hockey House has become my new home. My dorm room might as well be a storage unit for the textbooks I’m not reading.
Drew hums against my hole, the vibration making my whole body jerk. “You taste delicious, Jacky,” he murmurs, pulling back enough to speak before diving back in. “Could eat this ass for hours.”
“Please,” I beg, pushing back against his face. “I need—”
“I know what you need.” Drew pulls away, and I whimper at the loss. But then I hear the drawer of his nightstand open, and my cock throbs against the mattress. “Say hello to Purple D, man,” Drew says in the most frat bro manner possible.
The vibrating dildo appears in my peripheral vision—purple silicone, and my ass clenches in anticipation, still wet and open from his tongue.
“Color?” he asks, running a soothing hand down my spine.
“Green,” I breathe. “So fucking green.”
He chuckles, dark and promising. “That’s my good boy.”
The praise shoots straight to my cock, and I moan loudly, desperately.
Every day has been a revelation. Every day, Drew shows me something new—how to deep throat without gagging (still working on that one), the perfect angle to hit my prostate, how to use my big quarterback hands to take him apart.
I’ve become addicted to the way he trembles when I touch him, the sounds he makes when he’s inside me.
The dildo buzzes to life, and my body tenses. Drew runs it along my crack, teasing, not quite touching where I need it most.
“Breathe, baby,” he murmurs, his free hand stroking my lower back.
I force myself to exhale as he presses the tip against my hole. Even after all his prep, the stretch is intense, made more so by the vibrations that light up every nerve ending. Inch by inch, he works it inside, pausing whenever I tense up, whispering praise and filth in equal measure.
“Look at you,” he says, voice full of awe. “You’re perfect, Jacky. Absolutely perfect.”
When it’s fully seated, he turns up the intensity, and I nearly come right then. The vibrations are everywhere—against my prostate and through my whole pelvis—making my cock leak steadily onto his sheets. I’m making noises I didn’t know I could make, desperate and wanton.
“That’s it,” Drew encourages, slowly fucking me with the toy. “Let me hear you.”
I should be embarrassed by how loud I’m being, but I’m past caring. The Hockey House has heard worse. Gerard’s sex roars are legendary.
“Drew,” I gasp as he angles the dildo just right. “Fuck, I’m gonna—”
“Not yet,” he says, slowing his movements. “Got more to show you first.”
The next hour melts into a haze of sweat and ragged breath. Drew whispers sweet nothings against my ear, his fingers tightening around the base of my cock each time my thighs start to quiver because the dildo is vibrating my entire body.
“Like this,” he murmurs later, guiding my legs around his waist as he positions himself beneath me before I sink onto his thick cock.
His hands grip my hips, thumbs pressing into the hollows beside my hipbones.
“Slow circles,” he instructs, demonstrating with a gentle push and pull that makes my jaw drop, and my eyes roll back.
My muscles burn as I learn the rhythm, the sweet spot that makes his eyes roll back and my name tumble from his lips like a prayer.
I come twice, my whole body convulsing with pleasure as I splatter his face with my release.
Afterward, we lie tangled together, sweaty and satisfied. This has become our routine—fuck until we can’t move, then cuddle until dinner time.
Drew’s tracing patterns on my back, and I’m half-asleep when he speaks. “Want to try something different at some point?”
I crack one eye open. “Different how?”
He looks almost shy, which is a new development. Drew Larney doesn’t do shy. “I want you to fuck me. Doggy style.”
My cock gives a valiant twitch despite being completely spent. “Really?”
“Yeah.” He’s blushing now, and it’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen him do. “You’ve gotten so good with your hands that I think it would be hot. You taking control of me.”
“We can do that,” I whisper.
He grins, pressing a kiss to my shoulder. “Good. Now sleep, Jacky.”
But sleep doesn’t come easily. I lie there thinking about Ryan, about how I’ve essentially abandoned my best friend for dick.
I should go back to the dorm and try to salvage our friendship before it’s too late.
But tomorrow becomes another day lost in Drew’s bed, learning new ways to make each other fall apart.
Suddenly, two weeks have passed, and I can barely remember that I have a dorm room to go back to.
I should feel guilty. I really should.
But it’s hard to feel anything but undiluted want when Drew Larney is involved.
The campus is quiet as I make my way to the library.
My body still aches in the best way; muscles sore from holding positions I didn’t know existed until Drew showed me—one leg straight up, the other bent; both legs spread wide like a fucking wishbone.
When I push through the glass doors, I’m met with silence and emptiness.
No Elliot shelving books with his perpetual scowl, no Sarah lurking behind the stacks with her notepad.
Just the familiar smell of old paper and that weird carpet cleaner they use.
I find Ryan in his usual spot on the third floor, surrounded by astronomy textbooks and color-coded notes. He glances up when I approach, and I brace for anger, for hurt, for any of the reactions I deserve after ghosting him.
Instead, he smiles. “Well, look who remembers I exist.”
“Ryan, I’m so sorry.” I drop into the chair across from him. “I’ve been a terrible friend. I know I’ve been MIA, and there’s no excuse—”
“Jackson.” He holds up a hand, cutting off my rambling. “It’s fine.”
I blink. “It’s…fine?”
“More than fine, actually.” He leans back, studying me over his glasses. “I watched the performance, you know. The whole thing. And I have to say, I’m proud of you.”
Heat floods my face. “You watched?”
“Everyone watched. But that’s not the point.” His expression softens. “You kept your word. You laid it all out there on that stage. No jokes, no deflection, just honesty.”
“It wasn’t an act,” I admit quietly. “It never was, not really. For as long as I’ve been here, I’ve been in love with Drew.
When everyone was speculating that our friendship was more than it had been, I panicked.
I was afraid that everyone could see what I’d been hiding in my heart.
And Drew was the one who came up with the idea for us to fake date.
And that’s what it was, at least until that night downtown.
I’d told him how I truly felt, and he deflected.
But deflection only lasts so long. Now we’re dating, for real.
No farce, no lies. Drew and I are boyfriends. ”
“I know.” Ryan’s smile turns knowing. “I figured it out that night. When you had your back to him, the way his eyes roamed your body—that wasn’t acting.
Drew was drinking you in, Jackson. And how he touched you?
Like you were the most delicate thing he’d ever had the pleasure of feeling up?
I only wish you had told me the truth sooner. ”
I frown. “We couldn’t risk the Ice Queen finding out. She was adamant that we were faking it, and that made us double down on our efforts. Why should she get to win?”
“I understand.” Ryan shifts in his seat. “I’m glad you’re being honest about it now, though. Are you going to tell everyone else?”
“Eventually. Right now, Drew and I are curious to see what the Ice Queen has up her sleeve. She said something about spring break.”
“Knowing her, and the fact that she’s saving it for spring break, it’s going to make Guys Gone Wild look like a DCOM.”
We sit in comfortable silence, the weight of the truth settling between us.
“So,” I say, “if you saw me and Drew that night, then that means you saw Oliver too.”
Ryan’s entire demeanor changes. His spine straightens, color rising in his cheeks, and he fidgets with his pencil. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Come on, Ryan.” I lean forward, grinning. “Oliver Jacoby in a thong? In a glass case with Kyle? That had to have left an impression on you.”
“It was pedagogic,” he says primly, but his voice cracks on the last syllable.
“Pedagogic.” I snort. “More like pedacockic, if you ask me.”
“Fine!” He throws his pencil down, glaring at me. “Yes, I watched Oliver perform. Yes, I saw his…everything. And yes, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since. Happy?”
“Ecstatic.” I can’t help but laugh at his flustered expression. “What are you going to do about it?”
“Do about it? What is there to do?”
“Plenty of things.” I lean back, crossing my arms. “The semester’s nearly halfway over. Talk to him. What have you got to lose? You two were friends once upon a time, right? Reconnect.”
I can practically see the gears turning in his head, calculating odds and probabilities and whatever else his giant brain does. “I’ll think about it,” he finally says.
“That’s all I ask.” I stand, already itching to get back to the Hockey House. To Drew. “Just don’t wait too long, okay? Sometimes the best things happen when you stop overthinking and go for it. I’m speaking from experience there, in case you didn’t get that.”
Ryan rolls his eyes. “I got it, Jackson. Go. Your hockey player is probably wondering where you are.”
“Yeah, okay. I’m going.”
“Jackson?” Ryan calls as I’m walking away. I turn back. “I’m happy for you. Even if you have abandoned me for what I can only assume is a truly staggering amount of athletic sex.”