Page 22 of Dare to be Different

Remy takes control. He compliments her, praises her, commands her, and by the time she’s gasping for air and taking us as far into her mouth as she can, using her fists on our bases, my eyes are watering from restraint. Holy hell, Remy is hot when he gets bossy.

“Ah, fuck,” he moans.

It’s my undoing. With a string of hissed curses and watery eyes, I lose all sense of control and simply give up. My cock pulses, and the visual of my cum leaking from her lips, coating Remy’s cock, and dripping to the carpeted floor has my head all light and my body all tense.

But it gets a million times better when Remy tenses. His dick slips from her lips, and my orgasm straight-up starts all over when he cums on my cock by accident. Oh my fuck. Yes. This. This is everything I shouldn’t want, and I’m so here for it I don’t know how to comprehend it all.

To hear his moan in tortured pleasure. To feel him next to me. To be slick with not only my cum, but his as well. To be coated in saliva and looked at by a beautiful woman who just made us cross the only boundary we’d never crossed.

The. Fucking. Vibe.

Remy leans against me. Whether he knows he’s doing it or not, he doesn’t stop. His hand grazes my thigh, his shoulder presses against mine, and when he turns his head, his blond hair tickles my temple.

“Holy fuck,” he whispers, maybe to me, maybe to himself, maybe to her, but I hear it all the same, and his voice is all admiration and exhausted excitement.

When my body settles and Taylor does her best to lick us clean, we pull her to her feet and help her clean up. Luckily, she talks before things can get awkward.

“I knew you two would be hot together,” she says, and I choose to take it at face value. “Best friends with your bond? Always a good time.”

Ten minutes later, we’re dressed, thanking her, and being kicked out of her room. Remy gives her a kiss on the way out, and I’m wondering if he’s weirded out by the fact that my cum is on her lips.

I don’t care how much I hate smoking, I grab Remy’s pack and light one as we walk from the hotel to his place. It’s a long walk, and we haven’t said a thing to each other since we left the room. Not even in the elevator. He follows close behind me, way more at ease than I feel.

It’s not that I’m not okay with what happened because, clearly, I was into it. It’s that Remy knows about me and my preferences now, and I don’t want him to feel weird. I don’t have limits, but I’m worrying about his… on his behalf! Because he doesn’t seem too concerned, and maybe he should be.

“Why are you freaking out?” he finally asks.

“Why aren’t you?” I slow down to let him catch up.

“Because that is exactly what I expected to happen when you said she wanted both of us.” He laughs. “You didn’t?”

“No! I thought we’d focus on her. Not her… make us…”

“Oh, she didn’t make us do anything,” he says, lighting a cigarette. “I told you my mind wasn’t all fairytales either.”

Yeah, I know, but… why isn’t he freaking out? “We’re friends, Rem. Is this going to ruin that? Make shit awkward?” Okay, Zahn, less sass and more compassion. Jesus.

“No. Not unless you let it,” he snaps back, picking up on my tone. “What’s the big deal? You’re always going on about having no limits and loving the heat of the moment.”

Yeah, but that heat of the moment has never threatened our friendship before. “You’ll regret it in the morning. You aren’t… bi or pan or whatever I am. Open.” I’ve never even considered a label for myself. I’m just me, into whatever, living in the fast lane and enjoying all the opportunities that I find myself in. That’s all it’s ever been, and until this very moment, I never thought I had to define it. But now Remy’s sexuality has been brought into the mix, and I don’t want him to feel pressured to be something he isn’t just because he’s trying to keep up with me.

I just don’t notice gender that much. Like I’ve told him a thousand times, it’s all about the energy and the vibe of the situation. I’m whatever sexuality I feel like being when caught up in the heat of the moment. Sure, things haven’t gone all the way with a guy, but I don’t really attribute that to my sexuality. It’s more about not finding myself in the right atmosphere yet.

“A sexy chick sucked us both off. I wasn’t thinking of anything more than that. Get over it,” he says, trying to put an end to my worries.

I don’t know why I can’t let it go, but as soon as we make it back to his place, I call Kolt to come pick me up.

“You forget something at home or what?” Kolt asks as he drives my semi-drunk and confused ass home.

“No.”

“Work early?”

“No.”

He shakes his head at me like I’m an idiot, and maybe, for once, Kolt’s right about something. “Then why am I carting you around in the middle of the night like a teen?”

Because my feelings are feeling things and they’re worried. “Just wanted to go home.”

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