“I’m going to shower,” I say. “Rub one out while I’m at it. Unless …” I drop my boxers to the floor and my cock juts out, pointing toward my stomach. “You want to join me?”
I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing. Do I want him to say yes, or am I messing with him? I don’t know. Knowing me, I’m trying to fuck with him, but I can’t be sure I’d admit to joking if he accepted the offer.
“I’m good. Thanks.”
Huh. Didn’t even get a rise out of him. My eyes travel down his hard stomach to the tent in the sheet. Okay, so I got a rise out of him physically, but he’s not biting.
“Fine, but it might be an idea for you to do it too. Just saying, we’ll most likely be hanging around in our underwear all day. Oiled up, rubbing against each other. Do you want a hard-on in a magazine?”
“You still don’t affect me, so I’ll manage.”
I cough in between saying “Bullshit.”
“Still chemical. Your mouth ruins it for me.” He smirks but tries to hide it.
“I could totally show you how good my mouth can be.”
For the tiniest, miniscule second, I swear interest flickers across his face, but then he schools his features and it’s gone. “Still pass.”
“Suit yourself.”
A quick shower later—all I had to do was think about waking up next to Matt and I came within thirty seconds of touching myself—I find Matt dressed in board shorts and a black sleeveless shirt.
“Should’ve jerked it,” I sing at him.
“How do you know I didn’t?”
I’m hardening again. This guy drives me crazy. “We should fuck.”
Matt sighs. “Here we go again. Why, exactly?”
“Hear me out. We’re in this relationship until you get a contract, and after that, you might need me to make appearances so your teammates don’t think you’re hitting on them or whatever. Because everyone knows all us gay boys want to do in life is hit on straight guys.”
Matt laughs. “Right? Not to mention football players are head cases. No way would I go for one.”
“You realize you’re calling yourself a head case?”
He lets out a humorless huff. “You haven’t been paying attention, have you? I’m fucked up.”
“Aren’t we all?”
“Look, it’s not happening. We proved crossing that line makes things weirder, not better like you said it would.”
“True, but now it’s super weird. There’s no going back. All you have to do to get me hard is … well, breathe. Even your shitty attitude is starting to turn me on.”
“Way to get me into bed,” Matt says.
“You want candlelight and flowers?”
“Fuck off.”
“We don’t have to like each other to make each other come.”
“I bet you say that to all the guys.”
He’s frustrating me to no end.
“It was just an idea,” I say. “We both get off, your fake relationship becomes semi-real so we’re not entirely lying, and we both know it’s temporary. We won’t fall when we can’t stand each other.”
Matt stares at me, his expression a mixture of confusion and concern. “Do you really think I don’t like you? I’m pissed at the situation, not at you, but it’s better if we keep this professional.”
“Why?”
“I need this strategy to work, and it’s not going to if … sex gets involved. I haven’t gone there with other guys, so I won’t—” His mouth slams shut, and he winces as if he’s said something wrong.
I run his words over in my head and step closer. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
“Nope. Never mind. Never said nothin’.” Is that why his accent is reappearing?
“Matt, how many guys have you been with?”
The tips of his ears turn red. “Heaps.”
My mouth quirks on one side. “You top or bottom? I assumed Mr. Asshole was a top, but now I’m not so sure you’re either.”
Matt cracks his neck. “We should go get somethin’ to eat before we’re due at the shoot.” He tries to walk away but I grab his arm. Damn his tattooed biceps being all hard and mouthwatering under my hand.
“Are you a virgin?” I ask, my voice gruff.
“No.” He averts his gaze. Matt’s so a virgin. “I’ve done plenty of … stuff. It counts.”
“No, it doesn’t. Have you ever had anal? Given or received.”
“That’s not the defining criteria for sex, you know.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“What’s it to you?” he snaps.
“Well, before when I said we should fuck, it was only an idea. Now I really think we should.”
Matt throws his head back and looks at the roof. “I swear if you don’t drop this, the next headline will read Matt Jackson Murders Boyfriend.”
“Catchy. But someone as hot—and as old—as you shouldn’t be a virgin. We need to rectify that immediately.”
Matt grits his teeth. “I’ll see you out there. I need some food to stomach your bullshit.”
He leaves before I can take the time to realize I’ve messed up by running my mouth as usual. Only, this time I didn’t mean to do it. The foot lodged between my teeth won’t budge an inch.