CHAPTER FOURTEEN DEAN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
DEAN
I’m sitting still, but my heart’s racing like I played two grueling halves of basketball and some overtime on top. The silence is heavy, punctuated only by our heavy breathing.
And the whole time, Nick’s fixing his wide eyes on me. Those wide, disastrously pretty, irresistible eyes. As much as I want to tear my gaze away, I can’t.
He blinks, snapping us both out of whatever this is, and finally removes his hands from my waist. Not that I was physically trapped, but the feeling of his touch was all but locking me in place. His incessant flirting was keeping my feelings locked, too.
Staying friends with him at all, when something like this gets me all knotted up, is looking less and less realistic by the second.
A sigh returns my attention to Nick, who’s dragging a hand down his face. Those full, pink lips part, and I fight the instinct to launch myself at them.
“I don’t… I think…” He pauses to cuss under his breath. “I’m not trying to be funny.”
Then why the hell were you feeling me up? He already established he’s not into me.
I tilt my head, prompting him to continue.
He does. “You’re turning me on. Like, big time. I don’t know why, but I’m not joking.”
My pulse stops screaming in my ears. My first thought is that he’s still making cruel jokes at my expense, but somehow, I find it in me to ask, “Are you for real?”
Nick nods, and it’s solemn. “Totally. I… I think I want to have sex with you.”
Likewise.
But what changed? It’s been under a day since he directly told me he can’t be into me that way. And now he says he wants to have sex.
Well, he thinks he does.
I let out a scoff. “You think you want to have sex with me? Wow, I feel so valued.”
That gets a laugh out of him, and the noise floods my chest with warmth. “Shoot, sorry. I’m not used to explaining myself like this.”
“And you don’t have to.” I shuffle back and knock over a bottle on the floor with my foot, which brings me back to reality.
While my annoying dick is begging me to strip this man down and learn what his moans sound like, that’s not the move. My best guess is he’s vulnerable.
“Why don’t we, uh, de-escalate?” I suggest instead.
He shuffles backward and leans on the other arm of the couch, freezing when it makes a snapping noise.
“You’re fine. It does that.” I wave him off, even though the couch is definitely on its last legs.
“For sure,” he says. “I don’t know—I've only tried stuff with my ex and then random guys from apps, so I don't have much to go off of. If I had to label myself, maybe demisexual would fit, but I’m not a hundred percent.”
While I can’t relate, I know what he’s talking about. That makes a lot of sense, given how he seems to have started feeling…more toward me after we shot the shit last night.
I purse my lips, leaning forward. “And you don’t have to be. Just take it slow.”
He blows out a nervous breath, the corners of his lips curling into a tiny smile. “Thanks for, like, not pushing it or anything, even though I did reciprocate that frat house make-out at first.”
Again, I find myself wondering if he’s being serious. “No. Nick. You’re allowed to change your mind. Are you seriously thanking me for not coercing you into having sex with me?”
“Yeah. Pretty much everyone else has.”
Jesus. My jaw drops. “Bro. That’s fucked. Even your ex?”
“Yeah. A few days after we got together, we were talking about random shit, and of course the topic went to sex.” He sucks in a breath. “He asked me why we hadn't done anything, I didn't have a good answer, and then he put a hand down my pants.”
I flinch. “And you didn't rip his dick off?”
Please say you did.
“Nope. I told him to keep going because I thought I just had first-time nerves, and that it’d be better if I got those out of the way.”
What the actual fuck? I screw my face up in disgust, and Nick just…shrugs?
“Look. I didn't know it wasn't okay back then. And…” He shuts his eyes and lets out a sigh. “I pushed through. I started being more into sexual things pretty soon, so I kind of thought that’s how things went. For me, at least.”
“Dude, that’s mess—” I cut myself off before finishing my sentence.
What’s messed up is Nick’s ex coercing him, not Nick himself. I need to be careful.
“That’s not what it should feel like, ever,” I correct myself. “I can’t say I relate—”
“I know. You know if you want to suck a guy's dick the second you meet him.” He chuckles, and it’s oddly infectious.
“Man, shut up,” I drawl, dragging the words out. Then I concede, “Maybe. Yes. But, like, sex is fun because it's with someone, not done to someone. I’m surprised he kept trying to push when you weren’t comfortable.”
“I don’t know, man. I’ve always been hot as fuck.”
Scoffing, I smack him on the chest, even though it’s true. “That doesn’t change anything. Honestly, the best part of sex is the enthusiasm.”
“Enthusiasm,” he repeats.
“Yeah. Like hearing how bad the other guy is losing it and how much more he wants from me, and knowing what I’m feeling is matched? It’s the horny little sighs and the grabbing at your back and—”
And I’m on a roll, and I can’t stop, not when Nick’s smiling at me the way he is now.
“—the begging. Oh my god, the begging not to stop. Fuck!” I ball a hand into a fist and bite down on it. “So yeah, in short, sex is only good when everyone buys into it.”
“That’s…wow,” he offers.
I know we’re supposed to be de-escalating. I don’t think my primer on why I love sex helped at all.
Nick shuffling toward me, making the couch creak, serves as confirmation. Him opening his legs to close the distance even more sends my brain into overdrive, and I part my lips, still thinking about what the hell I’m gonna say. Or do.
My thoughts are interrupted when he brings a gentle hand up, grazing my jaw and making my mind flicker out. I shudder under his touch, and it isn’t until I feel his hand move to my neck that I realize what he’s doing.
He pulls me toward him. My eyes widen, the anticipation brutal and burning. I keep my lips apart, not to speak, but as an invitation. Because despite Nick’s many revelations over the past ten minutes, I’m not making the first move this time. Not again.
We both sigh, and his breath is warm and minty on my face.
And then he presses his mouth to mine.
And holy hell, as soon as we touch, everything I was holding back comes to the surface.
Everything I said about enthusiasm rings true, and if I thought Nick was a good kisser two days ago, that’s nothing compared to our second shot.
His tongue is firm and forceful, not passively accepting.
He’s pressing into me, not the other way around.
If either of us stop, I think I’d cry, and from the way Nick’s making raspy, desperate sighs, it’s clear he’s the same way. The fire we tried to build yesterday was fucking pathetic, but the one he just lit in my core makes up for that a hundred-fold.
Out of control, I moan, and he responds by moving his hands down to grab my waist, grabbing tightly, hooking around my body, and falling backward, taking me with him.
For someone who did a full one-eighty on me in the space of two days, he sure knows his way around my wants—
The goddamn couch snaps. It’s louder than all of the noises it’s made so far, and the two of us open our eyes in shock.
His reaction is immediate. “Bed.”
I tumble off of the cursed couch and haul him up by the waist, practically dragging him along the short distance to my unmade bed. But instead of getting in, we both hover, still standing.
“Are you sure you want this?” I ask just in case, caution lining my voice.
He gives my chest a little nudge, and it sends me falling backward. “What do you think, man?” He chuckles as I stare up at his sexy, looming figure. “I want to strip you down to nothing.”
Fuck me sideways, I’d better not be dreaming.
I make a horny noise and manage a grin. “I’m all yours.”
Then he straddles me.
He fucking straddles me with his thick thighs, and pins me down with that tantalizing ass of his.
And to top it off, he sticks his big hands underneath my shirt, running them along my stomach, and I have to throw my head back.
The gentlest skin-to-skin touch sends an even bigger bolt of arousal spiraling down to my balls.
He wants to strip me down to nothing, and I’m running out of patience for him to start.
“Don’t make me do all the work,” he teases.
“Are you…” I let out a scoff. I push myself up, and he meets me in the middle, his fingers skimming my jaw again and threatening to turn me into a puddle of pliant horniness.
I close what’s left of the gap between us and press my lips against his again, my brain flickering in and out of lucidity as his tongue breaches my teeth.