We make out like that, grinding and groaning, erections rubbing.
Till he wrenches away from me, panting, catching his breath. He stares at me like he wants to fuck right here, right now.
Well, yeah.
Then reality taps me on the shoulder. I’m not opposed to sex with a stranger. There’s nothing wrong with a one-night stand. But Beck isn’t a stranger. We work in the same, small world.
He’s not out, at least as far as I know. And that raises some questions. Is he just a straight guy wanting to mess around with a gay dude?
That’s a hard pass for me.
I set a hand firmly on his pecs. “Is this an experiment for you?”
With a frustrated huff, he shakes his head, then nods. I jerk my gaze back, my hand becoming a stop sign on his chest. Do not pass GO. “Which one is it?”
He sighs heavily. “Shit, sorry. It’s not an experiment,” he mutters as if it’s hard for him to say.
That’s not entirely reassuring, his half answer. I don’t want to be some straight guy’s walk on the dude side. Been there, done that. A lot of things suck about getting dumped, but getting ditched by a guy who never really liked guys is one of the worst.
I push him away by more than a few inches. “Are you sure you’re not just messing with me?”
Adamantly, he shakes his head. “No. Definitely not. I’m not.”
“So then are you . . .?” If he can’t say gay or queer or bi or pan, I don’t want to fool around anymore.
His gaze drops to my hand on his chest, to the distance I created, as if looking for the answer there. He raises his face, his dark eyes flashing with vulnerability. “I’m . . . bi.”
My lips quirk up. Now we’re in business. Any variety of queer works for me. And while I’ve never known him to be out, I also don’t know him. Nor do I keep a list of newly out players. Plus, I just met the guy, and I don’t want to turn this into an inquisition with any more questions—like are you out to your teammates, or does your family know. Now, when we’re both hot and bothered—and both into guys rather than experiments—isn’t the time for a deeper discussion on how far out of the closet or not he is.
Now is the time for getting off.
But just to have a little fun, I lift a hand to his jaw, run my thumb along his face. “You sure about that, Cafferty?”
That seems to ease whatever nerves he felt in speaking his truth. He wiggles a brow, gives me a cocky smirk. “Positive. Want me to prove it to you?”
I lift my chin, seeing his bet and raising it. “I really fucking do.”
With speed I didn’t see coming, he unbuttons my shorts, yanks down the zipper, and fondles my cock.
7
My Quarterback Crush
Beck
* * *
He’s silky to the touch and all steel underneath. My mouth waters. My chest tingles.
I want to play with his dick all night. To stroke and tease. To lick and suck.
But the clock is ticking, curfew is coming, and I don’t want to stop this make-out train.
Don’t think he does either. A few seconds later, he undoes my shorts and shoves his hand into my boxer briefs to grasp my dick.
I hiss in a breath. We’ve got our hands on each other, and it’s bone-meltingly good.
I groan at the twin sensations—the high-voltage charge from him touching me, and the heady thrill of me touching him. The man I’ve crushed on for the last year. The man I’ve fantasized about too many times to count.
Now it’s real, and I’m acutely aware that it’s go time. I don’t want to fuck this up. Don’t want to ruin this sexy moment with the wrong move.
But I’m pretty sure I’m making the right ones. Jason’s moaning and his cock is dripping. I try to toss all my worries aside. We’ve got seven minutes, tops, before I turn into a pumpkin. Dirty Cinderella, indeed.
Gripping him tight, I slide my fist along his hot length, spreading my thumb over his crown, lubing him up as best I can.
“Yes,” he grunts. “I like it rough.”
And I like it crystal clear. A little direction goes a long way. I let go for a second, spit in my palm, then return to his dick and give a nice, tight jerk.
Jason shudders, pumping into my fist and showing off his multitasking skills, too, as he strokes my dick, using my pre-come to ease the way.
Lust shoots down my spine in fast, pulsing waves of pure pleasure. I grit my teeth from the sweet agony of his hand shuttling up and down my length. My dick is leaking, but even as he spreads the liquid arousal on my shaft, that hardly feels like enough glide.