CHAPTER SIXTEEN DEAN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
DEAN
My apartment has a shitty view out the window. If I strain my neck and press my face against the glass, I can make out the edge of a forest, but other than that, I’m staring at the crumbling foundation of an abandoned factory. Maybe it used to be a paper mill or something, I wouldn’t know.
Still, when faced with the choice of looking there and getting hypnotized by the sight of Nick’s sleeping, shirtless body sprawled across my bed, I’m gonna opt for avoidance and worn-down bricks.
Fuck.
We agreed to go back to being friends, and twelve hours later, I blew a load down his throat with my face buried deep in his ample asscheeks, then we made out on and off between eating takeout and exploring each other’s bodies until we passed out.
Now I know that biting behind his ear makes his whole body go limp. Now Nick knows that stroking my neck makes me go wild. Friends certainly don’t have this kind of information on one another.
All that talk about how he doesn’t hook up, and then we did. And he initiated.
As much as I couldn’t understand his situation before, at the very least, it didn’t confuse me.
Now I don’t know where the two of us stand, whether yesterday was a one-off of Nick experimenting, and if he’ll want to go back to being just friends even though I know what his moans sound like when I tease his dickhead and when he’s about to come.
Yeah, he sounds fucking hot, and the recollection is simply stoking, or stroking, my morning wood.
I’m helpless, so I turn my head to face the bed, roving my eyes up from his socked feet, up those toned legs, over his tented sweats, the dark, sexy hair on his bare stomach, and then across that smooth chest to the dark hair of his pits, then his stubbled jaw, pretty eyes—
Wait, eyes?
Shit, he’s awake. With exactly zero subtlety, I re-arrange my erection beneath my sleep shorts, securing it under the waistband.
“You checking me out?” he mumbles, his voice clouded with sleep.
My cheeks heat as a satisfied grin materializes across his plush lips. “I might be.”
“Well, take a closer look.” His arm flops onto the mattress next to him a few times. “It’s kinda cold.”
I couldn’t turn down his invite if I wanted to, and I’m pulling the covers over both of us in less time than it’d take me to nod in agreement.
Seemingly unsatisfied with my offer of proximity, he stretches an arm out and wriggles it under my neck, hauling me even closer by the shoulder and locking me in place.
“There. Now I’m finally warm.”
I huff. “You might be warmer if you bothered to use any blankets last night.” For effect, I shove his body with my own, since my hands aren’t anywhere convenient.
“You’re like a furnace,” he replies. “A furnace who clings to the closest human like a life preserver.”
“Come on, I did not,” I protest.
“You totally did, ‘cause you’re a horny fuck who can’t get enough of me.” Nick nuzzles my cheek with his two-day stubble, and if I didn't have a major, major weakness for facial hair, I'd do more than laugh and shove his handsome face away.
“You’re one to talk,” I counter, holding my breath. I still don’t know if the Nick from yesterday, the one who was into me, has carried over into today.
“Eh. I’m better at playing it cool.”
“Does whimpering through a blowjob count as playing it cool?”
He scoffs, rolling his head to the side while I skim my fingers over his neck. “There are limits to my strength,” he says stoically. “I don’t think any guy can withstand getting his dick sucked by someone he’s really fucking into.”
Really fucking into. That confirmation lights my body up, and I realize too late that I’m hardening right into Nick’s leg.
“Oop, good morning,” he says, and we both chuckle.
I give his own stiffy a gentle smack of acknowledgement, before pulling away and propping myself up on my elbow. While the prospect of teasing another nut out of him is tempting as hell, I’m not too sex-brained to ignore the fact that I’ll fall head over heels for him if we don’t set any limits.
“So, yeah,” I start, clearing my throat. “We had sex yesterday.”
He snorts, rolling those bright, handsome eyes. “No shit. You think I'm gonna forget?”
Not the best start to what I’m hoping is a productive conversation.
I press on, “No. You also said you don’t have it with just anyone.”
The mattress sags as he rolls over with a grunt, moving from staring at the ceiling to facing me head-on.
His face is soft and serious, with an impossibly gentle expression that almost makes me want to ditch politeness and kiss him, cutting our discussion short and dealing with the consequences later.
He speaks before I can do any of that. “You’re right. And, like, I don’t exactly want to talk about this, but we probably should.” There’s a short, painful pause. “Just because I’m attracted to you physically doesn’t mean I wanna marry you or anything—”
Holding back a laugh is too hard, and I smack his chest. “Yeah, that’s one way to scare me off.”
“Shut up. I’m being serious. I think…us being friends was enough for something physical to click with me, and I can’t stop staring at you, so I think I can keep being into you without going further. Like, emotionally and whatever.”
I nod, a tiny bit relieved but a little annoyed, too. Not necessarily at Nick; it’s just a little sad we can’t be more. If the circumstances were different, there’s no way I’d say no to being more than, “Friends with benefits? You’d be okay with that?”
I wait hopefully.
“Yeah,” he replies. “I don’t wanna wait another two years for my next blowjob. You broke me.”
The satisfaction is enough to make me flop down onto the mattress next to him, and I trace visual patterns around Nick’s dilated pupils. I’m such a sucker for pretty eyes, and I’m glad I get to admire the ones in front of me so shamelessly.
God, the image of him on his knees, looking up at me as he sucks me off—damn. That’s a lot to look forward to.
“Jesus, man, you’re getting hard again.” He slaps my forehead, snapping me out of my trance.
“Yeah, I can’t control myself around you, Nick,” I confess, sliding closer.
He plunges a sneaky hand under the covers and strokes my thigh, making my breath catch. “Then don’t. You wanna lose it?”
Yes.
I crawl on top of Nick and hover my mouth over his, smiling in a way I hope is sexy. “I do. Because I’m apparently a horny fuck who can’t get enough of you.”
Nick snickers into the kiss, smiling through it in a way that’s too infectious. “I'm still tired,” he says after a few minutes. “Are you okay if we cuddle for a bit instead?”
Is he being serious? He just…threw that out there all casual and random, like I'd have any hope of resisting his offer.
This is why I have, or had, a no-repeats rule—my willpower is in short supply as it is, but the more time I spend with a guy, the more chances he has to dig into every last one of my weaknesses.
“You read my mind,” I say, sliding into his inviting arms.
The second I do, that's it for me. He tightens and locks my body in place, all strong and warm, and it's a good thing I enjoy having my face buried in his neck because there's no way I'm moving.
Staying still in Nick’s arms is a recipe for catching feelings, so I try to conjure up some kind of conversation.
“Are you going home for Thanksgiving?” I ask, and when Nick hesitates, I expect him to make a face, but he shrugs instead.
“Nah. My parents and I haven’t spoken in years.”
The casual way he dropped that, as though I’d asked for his take on chip flavors, almost gets me to follow up. He’s just so…nonchalant about it—
“They don’t accept me being gay. Well, it’s mostly my dad.
” He huffs out a laugh that isn’t nearly as strained as I would have thought, not with the way this conversation is going.
“I told them when I graduated high school, Dad threw a fit, left my mom, and they both blamed me for what happened. Haven’t talked to them since. ”
“Jesus.” I can’t manage anything more, because what the hell would I even say? “I’m—”
“Don’t be sorry for me,” Nick says with a chuckle. “I’ve made peace with it, and I’m happier now. That just means I’ve had to tag along with a friend and crash their family gatherings.”
I laugh, more to help defuse the tension, not because what he said was remotely funny. “But not this year?”
“Nah. I’m staying for Thanksgiving and Christmas. It’s either that, or third-wheel my coupled-up friends. Are you also staying over winter break?”
“Sorry, I’m going home.”
“Fuck me,” Nick drawls, and I fight the urge to take him at face value. “Can I come with you?”
“I don’t see why not,” I joke. My parents technically said I can bring a friend whenever, but I don’t think they were being serious, either. It’s a twenty-hour trip with at least one connection, and then there’s the whole visa question. There’s just no way in hell—
“Are you for real?”
“I—”
He can’t be serious.
But instead of backpedaling, I’m imagining dragging his sorry ass onto a plane, taking him around, and showing him where I grew up. I never thought I’d be in a position to do that with anyone here, but now that the idea’s snuck into my head, my god, it’s appealing.
“I am,” I continue, trying to keep the excitement out of my voice. “My parents would be cool.”
“I’m so down.” He smiles, but he hesitates, maybe when he realizes I’m not returning it as enthusiastically as he is.
Our friendship-turned-whatever-this-is has mostly consisted of me pursuing Nick first, so I’m not about to keep that trend going.
He tilts his head. “Invite me again, so I know for sure.”
“Hey, I already did.” The last thing I want is to come across as an overeager little fuck, so I try to play it cool.
“Okay, fine.”
He drops it, choosing instead to yank my body toward him for a desperate, sloppy kiss. I’m taken by surprise, though I don’t complain, not when Nick kisses like he doesn’t know where to put his tongue. It’s hot as hell.