“Suck,” I command.
He does and jolts of electric spark from my toes all the way up to my spine.
“I’m close,” I warn him, releasing my hold a little so he can pull back if he wants to. But he doesn’t. He slides his hands up to my ass, holding me in place.
When he redoubles his efforts, I cry out, emptying down his throat, and he swallows like a fucking champ. I release his hair and he sits back, the cold air making me grimace after the warmth of Sol’s mouth, so I quickly pull up my pants and tuck myself away.
“Come here,” I say, holding out a hand.
He’s still dazed as I pull him up and against me, capturing his mouth in a filthy kiss. Gripping his waist, I turn us and push him against the door, my fingers undoing his jeans and shoving them down enough that I can get a grip on his cock. He’s painfully hard and leaking, and with the first firm stroke, he whimpers against my tongue, his dick jumping in my hand.
I work him hard and fast, a contrast to the deep, lazy way I’m fucking his mouth with my tongue, and it’s only a couple of minutes before he shudders against me, spilling his release over my hand and stomach.
Moving from his mouth, I press firm kisses to his cheek and jaw before reaching for some tissue and cleaning us up. Sol stays, slumped, against the door and I smirk as I pull up his jeans and underwear, pressing a kiss to his lips.
“You okay?” I ask.
He nods, his eyes still a little unfocused.
This is usually where I’d say thanks and get the hell out of there. And I should. After all, I told him we were just a hookup, right? But instead, I grab my shirt from the floor and pull it on before stepping back to him and wrapping my arms around his waist. He leans against me, dropping his head to my shoulder and I inhale deeply, trying not to think about how perfectly we fit together.
“I’m sorry I said we weren’t even friends,” I murmur against his neck.
He huffs, his breath warm on my skin through my shirt. “It’s true, though. I don’t even know if you have any siblings.”
“I don’t,” I say, my lips quirking. “Spoiled only child here.”
Sol laughs softly. “Yeah. That makes sense.”
“And I know you have one sister,” I say. “I know who your best friends are. You know who mine are. What else do we need? Favorite color?”
He pulls back and looks at me. “Yours is black. Right?”
I tilt my head to the side, fighting a smile. “That obvious?”
“Yeah.” He laughs. “Bet you can guess mine, too.”
I narrow my eyes as I think. He wears a lot of blue, including the sexy-as-fuck shirt he’s wearing now that I don’t want him to ever wear in public again, but I have a feeling it’s a different color he’s chosen.
“Green,” I say confidently. “Because of Franklin West.”
His smile widens and I don’t allow myself to second guess before pressing my lips to his.
“So, we’re friends?” Sol asks, his fingertips stroking the buzzed hair against my scalp. “Friends who get each other off?”
I sigh. “I don’t fucking know what we are.”
Sol pulls back a little more, his hands moving to my shoulders as though holding me in place. “I’ll tell you what I do know. I know I can’t stop thinking about you. Your mouth. Your hands. Your body. I need more, Wes. I want more.”
My throat is thick, and I swallow hard. “Same. But the reasons I gave you haven’t gone away.”
I hate that my words make him frown, but then he shakes his head, bringing a hand up to cup my jaw.
“I hated seeing that guy pawing you at the party.”
A noise halfway between a huff and a growl leaves my lips. “I hated seeing you kiss that girl.”
A flicker of amusement passes over his face, but before I can say anything else, he presses his mouth to mine.