“You should put more clothes on.”
“Nah,” I say as I rub at my chest. “One of us should be naked all the time, and since it won’t be you, then it will have to be me. I’ll take one for the team.”
Whit glances at me and then walks over and sprawls on the other end of the chaise. I’m not far behind because if this asshole thinks that I’m going to just let him put some distance between us afterthat, he’s sorely mistaken.
“You do realize,” I say as I press a kiss to his lips and then slip between his legs, “I was clingy before, but you’ve just opened a whole other can of worms.”
I lean my back against his chest and then tilt my head up and press my lips against his, sweeping my tongue into his to get another taste. Why does he taste so damn good?
I finally pull away and melt against him, my head on his shoulder. His hands are sprawled across my lower abdomen, his fingers playing with the hair of my happy trail, and my cock is half awake from the feeling of him touching me.
“There’s no getting rid of me now, man,” I say.
“Are you sure?” Whit asks.
“I’m sure.”
Whit is silent for a moment, those fingers tracing the rim of my belly button, and then he asks, “What is this to you, Caleb?”
I turn to glance up at him. “What do you mean?”
“You were straight before, so what is this?”
“You mean am I experimenting with you, like you said earlier?”
Whit swallows and nods.
“I dunno, man, I just like being with you. We gotta label it?”
“I’m not asking for a label, just want to try and avoid the fallout if you realize this isn’t what you want.”
“What I want?”
“If you realize that being with a man isn’t what you want.”
I thread my hand through his hair and tug his lips down to mine, kissing him for a long moment before pulling away. His lips are swollen from mine, his cheeks a little roughed up from my stubble.
“I have no issue being with a man as long as that man is you.”
And isn’t that the truth? Something about this guy…
A gasp exits my mouth when Whit’s hand surrounds my cock, tugging it until it’s throbbing in his hand.
“You sure?” he asks, and I arch into him.
“As long asyoucan be with a guy likeme.”
“And what guy is that?” he asks, pumping me slowly, toying with me. That fucker.
“A guy who isn’t your type.”
Whit tilts his head and takes my ear into his mouth. “I was wrong.”
I moan as he cups my balls in his other hand and rolls them in his palm.
“Wrong about what?”
“About my type. You happen to be something I didn’t expect to want. But now that I have you....”