Chapter 11 #2
“Should I remind you of all the things you want me to do to you?” I grab my phone, only to toss it onto the couch. “Or—should I do the one thing you haven’t admitted you want from me?” I reach for his face.
He says my name like he’s never said it before, pathetic and needy. “Roderick…”
The fur on his cheeks is coarse but soft, like a well-maintained beard. “You’ve been avoiding me.” It’s less of an accusation and more of a plea. I want to see Christos, not 3dge-m3, not Coach Chris. I push up onto my toes to limit the space between us.
A single word slips out right as I bring my lips to his. “I’ve…” Whatever he wanted to say is lost in the kiss. I keep one hand on his cheek and wrap the other around his neck, steadying myself. My chest bumps against the book. He leans down and my soles drop to the floor. My lips slide off his.
“I’ve been avoiding that.”
He’s in a daze, his dark eyes hidden behind white eyelashes.
He throws the book onto the couch, free hands grabbing me, pulling me in for another kiss.
There’s nothing but our clothes between us, but it’s a passing dilemma.
He slips a hand under my shirt to better caress my lower back.
My palm dives under the waistband of his sweats to grab the ass I’ve only admired on my screen.
He’s so dense. And heavy. Even his tongue has a heft to it I’ve never experienced. It slips into my mouth and I suck on it, eager to taste him. We’re both panting when we break the kiss.
“You wanted that?” I gasp.
Christos takes a moment, pressing his forehead against mine. “Yes…”
“For how long?” I run a finger along the bottom edge of his wide ear.
“After we won that home game…” He lowers himself, gets down on his knees so he can bury his face in my chest, embarrassed. “I wanted to kiss you…”
“I would have,” I tell him. “You just had to tell me to come to you and I would have.”
“I know…” He nuzzles his snout between my pecs.
His horns surround me, capturing me. Not that I need to be held down. I could never run away from something so perfect, him kneeling before me is something out of a dream.
Like all dreams, as soon as I recognize the fantasy it gives way to waking reality, a sinking dread overtaking me. I stroke the tuft of hair between his horns.
“What are we going to do?”
He groans, the sound morphing into a humorless chuckle. “I dunno…” His ears flap. “I can hear your heartbeat… It sounds nicer than a notification.”
As cute as this display is, I reach under his chin, angling his head upwards. “Come on, we can figure this out.”
His ears fall flat against his square head. “Can we?”
“Quitting talk from you of all people? Is this the same man who chose to coach the worst team in the college league?”
“Hey,” he laughs, “with our last win, we’re second worst.”
“And if you can manage that miracle, then I know we can figure this out.” I reach for his hand and move us to the couch, setting the book and my phone aside.
We’re apart for maybe a second before he wraps an arm around my waist, nearly pulling me into his lap.
I oblige, abandoning the worn leather and laying against his chest. I scratch under his chin, the difference in our heights more apparent than ever.
“I can’t think when you’re touching me like this.”
Like his dick against my ass isn’t just as distracting. It doesn’t matter that he’s not hard, it’s like he’s smuggling something in those sweats. My other hand starts petting him as well.
“Then let me talk while you listen.”
He hums in agreement, tilting his head back so I have more chin to scratch.
“If it weren’t for your job we wouldn’t have any obstacles.”
“Hang on—”
“I thought you were listening, not thinking.”
He takes my hands in his own, bringing them to rest in my lap. “Your skating isn’t an obstacle? The fact I’m a decade older?”
“Okay, sure…” I turn my hands so our palms are touching. “My schedule is tight, but I can make time. And the age thing won’t matter in a few years.”
Hot air hits the back of my neck. “Spoken like a true twenty-one year old.”
“Regardless, we both want to be with each other. That matters. I think it should matter more than age.”
He closes his hands around mine. We’re doing this.
“We should set ground rules,” I announce
The bottom of his chin rubs the top of my head as he nods. “Like… what exactly? I don’t want to hurt you.”
I snap like a whip. “Who says I won’t hurt you back?”
“You’re ruthless.”
“I have to be to make it as far as I have.” I punctuate this with a kiss on his knuckle. “Obviously we can’t flirt on campus.” His chest rises, and I know I deserve a scolding, but I get ahead of it. “I know that’s a rule for me. But you did ask about my favorite book which is very sensual.”
“I must not have gotten to that part in the book yet.”
“The dirtiest thing you’ve ever said to me is you started reading Thaw, but I digress. Your place is far enough from campus we won’t be spotted.”
He nods some more, humming in agreement.
“Let’s not talk about work when we’re here together. Skating, hockey, all of that we can talk about on campus. But when we’re here, we don’t mention it.”
“Do you not like when I ask you about skating? Sorry,” he says preemptively.
“No, I don’t mind your questions. We can talk about it on campus. I would rather focus on us when we’re together.” I wait for him to object to the concept of an us.
“No work talk. Got it.”
I have the sudden urge to kiss him, but there are more pressing matters.
“What’s the arrangement while you’re here? Are we just fucking or can I make you dinner?”
I’d never considered that an option, but I’m immediately smitten. “You want to make me dinner?”
“Don’t get too excited. I only know how to cook plain meat and veggies. And eggs. Lots of different ways.”
The mention of breakfast gets me thinking. “Sleepovers are probably a no go.”
He doesn’t attempt to hide the disappointment in his voice. “Why not?”
“Because Terrence will notice and he’s nosey.”
“You can’t tell him you have plans?”
I chew the inside of my lip. “I know it’s impossible, but I’d like to avoid lying to his face.”
“Okay then…” He’s clearly disappointed, but I move on.
“We should stick to messaging each other in the app.”
He presses his lips against my ear. “Am I allowed to call you TwinkleTop?”
I push his face away, his smile spreading across my palm. “Absolutely not. I like when you say my real name.”
“You’re one of the few people who uses my full name. I like it.”
I turn around in his lap to face him. His hands settle on my ass. “So, from now on, we talk professional stuff on campus and meet back here for dates. No sleepovers.”
“Can I come to your next skating event?” The answer is obvious, even to him, but I have to be firm.
“There would be too many questions. I’m sorry. I want you there.”
He forces a smile. “I get it. Had to ask anyway.”
I press my lips to his, rolling my hips ever so slowly, the fabric of his sweatpants beginning to tent.
“Wait—” he murmurs against my lips. “We can’t tonight.”
“Leave the bowl out front. I want to give you a real treat.” I start kissing him again but he grabs my head and tilts it back.
“I didn’t exactly prepare for your visit,” he points out. “I don’t even have any clean towels.” My confusion must be obvious because he adds. “Trust me, towels are necessary.”
“Tease,” I scoff. “Can I jerk you off?”
“You know, I didn’t think I’d have to explain the towel.”
“Can you jerk me off?” I press my crotch against his stomach, showing him just how badly I need him.
“How about we go upstairs?” He kisses my chin. “And we'll see what all I can do to you.”
I bolt to the stairs, but he goes to the front door, leaving out the bowl of candy like I suggested. “You were my first and only trick-or-treater.”
“Nice to know I wasn’t the only one having a depressing Halloween.”
He guides me to his bedroom and I’m relieved to see he’s got a bed frame and boxspring under his mattress. Not that I would have been turned off by a floor situation—not at this point. There aren’t even any boxes floating around like the rest of the house.
I sit on the edge of the bed. Christos takes one step before I tell him, “Crawl to me.”
Without hesitation, he gets down on his hands and knees, crawling to the bed. He rests his big head in my lap, the flat of his nose grinding against my groin.
“Good boy. Good, Christos,” I add, remembering what he told me downstairs.
His head is heavy in my lap, but I reach for the bottom of his shirt.
He lifts his arms, and I take my sweet time peeling the fabric from his toned chest. He’s got some softness in his gut, but the muscles still poke through, and his pecs are marvelous, pillowy and full.
I’d start complementing them with my tongue—but it’s clear he wants to service me tonight.
“Take off your pants. I won’t touch you,” I assure him. “I want to see how worked up you are.”
“Thank you, Daddy.” He pulls his sweats down so they pool around his knees. His cock so hard and needy, the head rests below his belly button. “Is this okay?”
“Yes, that’s perfect.” I grab the back of his head, pulling him into a kiss. I breathe against his lips, “You’re perfect,” before kissing him hard.
While my tongue dips into his mouth, he starts unbuckling my belt.
I bite his bottom lip. “I never said you could undress me.”
“Please…” he groans. Those big brown eyes make it hard to punish him. “I’ve thought about your cock so much.”
“Fine then,” I breathe. “Undress me and put that tongue of yours to good use.”
“Yes…” His hands return to my belt. “Roderick…” He glances up at me, anticipating another scolding.
“You can say my name.” I run my fingers down the back of his neck. “Not that you’ll be saying much soon.”