Dean #3
God, I’ve never seen someone with a stare so disarming before. Those steel-gray eyes should be cold, but with how damn soft they are around the edges, I can’t stop myself from melting.
I just know I'm gonna be smiling and kicking my feet in bed later. Hopefully with Nick next to me.
Come on. Keep it physical.
“You good?” he asks.
“Oh, I’m great. You’re just…” I dart my tongue out to wet my lips, and Nick’s throat jumps. “Really cute.”
Right as I’m doubting whether or not I creeped him out, he sighs, closing his fingers around mine.
Hell fucking yes. My heart races, sending blood to my cheeks and into my cock as I take stock of the guy next to me. Unable to constrain myself, I bring a hand up and plant it on his firm chest, feeling his equally rapid heart rate underneath my fingertips.
“Fuck, Nick,” I drawl, dragging my eyes to his full lips. “You’re so hot. Can I kiss you?”
And his eyes widen. He blinks, and unless I’m mistaken, the corners of his mouth turn up, I lean in closer, and—
He brushes his lips against mine, and my vision flickers out. Holding back from slamming myself into him is way too hard, and I have to settle for moaning.
My god, Nick’s lips are so damn soft, and he tastes amazing, like frat house beer and something masculine. His mouth is so warm, it’s blanking my mind out and I’m forgetting what the hell I should be doing with my tongue.
Right, yeah. Tongue. Mouth. Kiss. Those go together.
I manage to bring my brain back online just enough to kiss Nick back, and the sound he makes is so fucking sexy, it almost unravels what’s left of my willpower.
My body burns with need as his teeth click against mine.
This is easily one of the hottest kisses I’ve ever had, and we haven’t even started making out for real just yet.
He pulls back for air, leaving a painful vacancy in my mouth, and I rest my forehead against his, both of us panting.
“Jesus, you’re a good kisser,” I murmur, diving back in for more.
Nick replies by slowly sucking on my tongue in a way that shoots desire straight down my spine, and if I have things my way, I’ll be sucking on something else of his in a matter of minutes.
He makes another one of those enthralling, rumbling hums, and that’s it for me.
I slip my hands under his shirt, biting back a moan of my own, because I don’t want to come across as totally desperate, even though I kind of am.
It’s hard, though, because his warm stomach under my fingertips provokes a visceral reaction in my core.
I trail my fingers down a little, and oh fuck, he’s got a thick happy trail—I know his bush is gonna feel real soft against my nose when I go down on him.
Jesus Christ. I clench my throat, and then my nuts—shoot. I can hold off.
“My god, you’re unreal. I’ve been dying to get my hands on you for ages.”
Nick swallows tersely. “Really? Ages?”
I chuckle, withdrawing my hands from their little exploration and planting them on his firm thighs. “Come on. Don’t tell me I actually managed to keep all of my eye-fucking a secret.”
His face pinkens as he looks away, and it's so cute it's unfair. “Wasn’t much of a secret,” he mumbles with a small snicker.
“What can I say? I’m an open book.” And being an open book includes making my intentions very, very clear. “I didn’t have ‘fuck in a frat house’ on my bucket list or anything, but are we gonna tick it off anyway?”
He chuckles. “Maybe not fuck.”
“You know what I mean.” All of my restraint dissolves as my misbehaving dick takes over. “I wanna hear more of your sexy moans. Can I please suck your dick?” My voice comes out a lot whinier than I wanted, which just goes to show how badly I need this.
I get a nod, which is a little too terse for comfort. Tilting my head, I pause to give Nick an out. Maybe he drank a little too much, and he doesn’t…
Scratch that, his hands are on my chest!
Oh, fuck yes. I take the hint and dive in for another kiss.
He's closing his eyes, leaning back to relax, and he can bet on being real fucking relaxed once I’m done working him over.
I haven’t been able to steal a good look at what he’s packing beneath his pants so far, so all I have to go off of is pure speculation.
He’s probably like most other guys, with a sensitive head and a huge weakness for sloppy deepthroating. Maybe he’s a whimperer too. There’s only one way to find out.
With hurried, desperate movements, I skim my hands up to his waist and—
Nick pushes me away.
He’s gentle, but I take the hint and tilt backward to land on my ass. I blink at him, getting my bearings from the other end of the couch.
From his closed posture, up to his flushed neck, his kiss-bruised lips, and then his shell-shocked expression, what he thinks of all this is clear as day.
Shit.
“Nick, I’m sorry,” I blurt out, straightening up. “I totally misread this. I thought—”
“No, you’re fine. I just… Shit. Sorry.” He runs his hands down his face, which is twisted up even more, before wincing and darting for the door.
And then he’s gone, leaving me alone in the bricked-up aftermath of my major, major screw-up.