Chapter 3 #4
Besides, thought was rapidly fraying, hard to grasp, as it felt like the rest of his blood headed lower, right to his already rock-hard dick.
“Feel good?” Lane murmured roughly.
“Yeah,” Trevor admitted, the truth coming out of him in a sharp, inevitable exhale.
It felt fucking amazing, and Trevor might normally feel embarrassed by that—or embarrassed that he didn’t feel it, not the way he should—but there was no reason this time. This was his experiment. Lane had told him he’d like anything, that he wanted Trevor to do whatever he was into.
So Trevor did, settling more confidently on Lane’s incredibly firm thighs, and nudged his mouth under his jawline, fingers digging into the fabric over Lane’s shoulders and ground with more purpose.
“Come on, Trev, take what you want,” Lane encouraged and his hand crept around from his hip, curving around his ass, and oh yeah, that was even better.
“Shit,” Lane added, his voice even rougher.
And God, that was definitely Lane’s hard-on pressing against him, too, and Trevor groaned. How was this so hot? He was sweating under his T-shirt collar, the fabric sticking to his neck.
“Just like this,” Trevor panted.
Lane nodded and his fingers dug into Trevor’s ass, encouraging him to grind faster against him.
Not telling. But suggesting. Welcoming.
And God, Trevor wanted to believe he wasn’t eating it all up, but he fucking was.
He’d never had sex this good before, and it was just dry humping on Lane’s couch.
Lane leaned up and kissed him again, mouths meeting as messily as their bodies, and pleasure spiked through Trevor.
He wasn’t going to last, even though he never wanted this to end.
We can do it again. As many times as you want, Trevor reminded himself.
Still, he wanted to stretch out the incandescent dirty joy of it as long as he could. He reached up, digging his fingers through Lane’s hair, tilting his mouth exactly in the angle he wanted, so he could devour him deeper.
His cock caught against Lane’s stomach, against the firm muscles of his abs, and Trevor gasped.
“Come on, sweetheart,” Lane mumbled, and that was all it took.
Trevor tumbled right over the edge, his orgasm shuddering through him in an insane rush.
A second later, Lane was tensing and warmth spread underneath Trevor.
“Fuck,” Trevor muttered, shocked, even though he’d just come, how hot he found that.
He pulled back just enough, because suddenly, he didn’t just want to see Lane’s face, he needed to.
Needed to feel that it wasn’t just him who’d been unexpectedly blown away by how good that had been.
Lane’s eyes were squeezed shut, but then a second later, they blinked open slowly, the blue green almost eaten up entirely by his pupil still. He looked just about as dazed as Trevor felt.
Trevor cleared his throat. Wondering what he should do now. Truthfully, he didn’t want to leave. Lane’s lap was not just shockingly hot, it was shockingly comfortable. Firm and perfect underneath him.
Lane’s hand left his ass and stroked up and down his back. The corner of his mouth quirked up. “Good?” he asked, even though he had to know.
He’d been there too.
“Yeah,” Trevor said, hoping that keeping himself to one word would be less obvious than the rhapsodizing paragraph that kept wanting to escape from his brain.
Lane had had a lot of sex in his life. Surely some grinding on the couch wasn’t going to be as groundbreaking or fucking incredible as it had been to Trevor.
Still, he looked like he’d had a good time too.
Good enough that he’d want to repeat it. Trevor told himself he wasn’t relieved, but he definitely was.
“We should . . .” Lane trailed off, gesturing between them with his other hand. “Shower?”
Trevor was pretty sure he didn’t mean together, but for a second his brain snagged on that idea and didn’t want to let it go.
Maybe next time. Maybe when they both got a better handle on how this thing between them worked.
Not that Trevor had had a lot of relationships—and almost no hookups at all—but he was fairly certain that showering together after sex was something you did in the former and not the latter.
“Yeah,” Trevor agreed, and he slid off Lane’s lap, and before Lane could offer—or not offer, actually—for them to shower together, he headed towards his room and its attached bathroom.
As he cleaned up, half an ear listening to the clear sound of water also coming from Lane’s bathroom, Trevor told himself that they were just going back to the status quo. A little break was a good thing, because things had gotten intense there, at the end.
It was smart, really, to reset the vibes.
When Trevor walked back into the kitchen, Lane was already in there, wearing only an old, faded pair of USC shorts. He put a plate in the microwave and turned to Trevor. “Needs reheated,” he explained.
Trevor had kind of expected that. His face went hot as he thought again about what they’d been doing instead of eating their dinner. “Makes sense.”
“You wanna go find something on TV?” Lane suggested, shooting a look at him over his shoulder.
It felt like every other regular evening, but it was totally different too.
No matter how Trevor reset the mood by taking a shower, he was never going to be able to forget that he’d kissed Lane. That they’d shared an orgasm. That they were going to do it again.
“Sure,” Trevor said and tried to sound normal.
He wasn’t sure he pulled it off, and the way Lane’s mouth quirked up told him he hadn’t.
But that was okay, right? It was all okay.
Normal was overrated.