He steps closer until we’re toe to toe. “Someone thinks they’re clever.”
“And someone wants the D.”
“I am a D-man.”
The way he’s trying to hold back his smile gives him away. God it’s a turn-on. Lust shoots through me as I think about finally sinking into his ass, but there’s something else there as well. Something that reacts to this cheeky dickhead and makes me grab his hips and pull him closer.
“You could have just asked.”
“Now where’s the fun in that?”
“Hearing you beg me?” I pretend to groan. “Loads of fun in it for me.”
“I told you I’d make you work for it.”
“Totally worth it.”
The flashing red and yellow lights from the fake windmill next to us plays over his face. I reach up to trace the pattern on his cheek.
My throat feels thick as I lean down and press a soft kiss on his lips. His hands grip my shoulders, and our tongues come together once, twice, before he pulls back.
“I thought I was supposed to be the cocky one,” he says. “We’re pretty out in the open here.”
“Eh.” I kiss him again. Then as we turn to head back, I link my fingers through his. My heartbeat pounds the way it does before we take to the ice for the first game of the season. My gut is tied in knots.
I tell myself, over and over, it’s because I’m about to fuck a guy for the first time, but that excuse is thin.
Guy, girl, I’m long past caring.
The only thing that matters in this equation is Beck. And that whenever I’m with him, I want him closer.
I blew him earlier, without caring if we were caught. I kissed him, in a public, semi-busy place, barely ten minutes from campus.
He makes me forget to be careful.
The asshole has made me like him, which months ago I would have assumed was impossible.
I squeeze his hand tighter.
I think I’m in trouble here.
22
Beck
The urge to reach for Jacobs’s hand as we get back to campus kinda sucks. Because blowjobs and handjobs are one thing. This … this is … more.
I’m up for it—in more ways than one. My cock is already hard behind my jeans which makes walking from the parking lot to our dorms mildly annoying, but not as annoying as not being able to do the simple act of holding his hand in case someone sees.
The minute we step onto the elevator and the door closes, I take my opportunity. Our fingers intertwine.
“Nervous?” Jacobs asks.
“Does it feel like I’m nervous?” I move our joined hands over my crotch. Because I’m classy as fuck.
It’s hard to explain why I’m not nervous. I should be. For more reasons than a dick in my ass sounds painful.
I should be nervous about the guys finding out.
I should be nervous about the bigger repercussions of what Jacobs and I have been doing—defining my sexuality and coming … out?
Coming out sounds like the wrong term. It’s not like I’m Foster Grant. It’s not like my attraction to guys—or guy if we’re being specific—is a thing I’ve always known or even suspected. I’m not an LGBTQ advocate, and shit, before I met Grant, I was an ignorant asshole.
It doesn’t feel right saying a switch flipped when Jacobs kissed me because I’m still the exact same person I was before I started seeing Jacobs in a different light.
If someone told me to label it right now, I’d say, “I’m dating a guy, and I like it.”
Is Tophersexual an identity? Because I’d be down for that.
“Beck?”
Jacobs’s arm holds the elevator door open, and I snap out of my distraction of trying to figure out what this is. Because the truth is, I don’t need to know all the answers right this minute.
“Are you sure you’re not nervous?”
I step past him. “Not about this.”
I put my hands in my pockets so I’m not tempted to plaster myself to him until we’re behind closed doors again.
Lucky too because Rossi comes out of his room as we reach Jacobs’s.
Jacobs stiffens.
Rossi looks at us with a weird expression, like he can’t comprehend why I’d be with Jacobs, but he doesn’t question it. “We’re on our way to McIntyre’s if you guys are interested.”
I nod. “Maybe later.”
“Sweet. See yas.”
As soon as Rossi’s gone, I turn to Jacobs. I expect him to freak out, but he doesn’t.
He grabs my shirt and pulls me into his room. “Quick, before any more of them converge.”
I laugh as he closes the door and then slams me against it.
“Is that how this is gonna go, is it?” I rasp.
He pulls me forward only to turn and push me hard against the wall this time. “Yep.”
I smile. “Think I’m not going to at least try to flip this around?” I spin us so he’s the one pinned.
“You wouldn’t be Beck if you didn’t.”