Page 69 of Protecting the Nerd

York propped himself up on one elbow, peering down at me with a furrowed brow that made him look every bit the thinker he was. The moonlight caught in the silver threads in his hair, crowning him with an ethereal glow. This man—introverted, brilliant, self-proclaimed geek—had become my anchor in a sea of chaos. His mere presence could stir both turmoil and tranquility in my heart.

“You’ve been lying awake for a week?”

No matter what, I refused to lie to him. “Pretty much, yeah. I’ve caught maybe three, four hours of sleep a night.”

“You must be exhausted.”

“I can handle it,” I said, my words a halfhearted shield. I couldn’t fool York—his intuition was as sharp as his intellect. He waited in that patient manner of his for the truth to spill from my lips. “But yes, I am desperate for a good night’s sleep.”

York flicked on the night lamp on his side of the bed. “Let me help you.”

“York, it’s late, and you need your sleep too—” I began, but he cut me off with a soft chuckle, and a wave of heat rushed through my veins.

“Sleep can wait. How about I give you a blowjob? Might help you relax.”

I froze. Was he serious? But the earnest look in his brown eyes, coupled with the resolved set to his jaw, told me he wasn’t playing around. This was York offering a part of himself. His offer was genuine, and it was like someone had lit a match and tossed it onto the kindling of my restraint.

“Are you sure?” I whispered, holding back the surge of desire that his proposal had ignited.

“Absolutely.” He held my gaze with unwavering certainty, but the tremor in his touch spoke of his anticipation. “I want to help you unwind, Quill. Let me do this for you.”

The protective part of me wanted to shield him, to keep him away from my worries and what kept me up at night. But the undeniable truth was I needed him in every way a man could need another person. And if this was how he chose to bridge the distance between worry and solace, who was I to deny him?

“Okay.” I couldn’t hide the hunger in my voice.

“You’ll have to teach me. I’ve never done this. With a guy, I mean. I’ve only been on the receiving end, so you’ll have to tell me what to do.” He traced uncertain patterns on my arm, a silent plea for guidance. “Will you show me?”

The admission struck me. The vulnerability in his voice was new, a side of York he didn’t often reveal. The gravity of what he proposed resonated deep within me. Here was a man who had structured his life around logic and precision but was willing to step into the unknown for my sake.

I shifted under the covers and propped myself against the mountain of pillows in front of the headboard. “Okay, why don’t you start by taking off my underwear?”

He eagerly reached for me, and I raised my hips so he could drag the fabric down. My cock was already half-hard. “Touch me, nerdy. You know what feels good…”

York’s fingers, hesitant but intent, found my skin. He touched me like he was learning an instrument, with the careful concentration of a maestro and the awe of a first-time player. He stroked the length of my cock with one finger, following it from the base to the tip. It hardened from that almost innocent touch, and he grinned as he did it again.

“I like playing with my slit,” he whispered as he put his thumb on my crown. “Does that feel good for you as well?”

“Yeah. Use a little spit, nerdy. Need some lube.”

He spit in his hand and curled it around my tip, rubbing the slit with his thumb. “Like that?”

A low moan bubbled in the back of my throat. “Mmm, yes.”

He repositioned himself, and I smiled at the deep frown of concentration. Like everything he did, York gave this his full attention. With his left hand around the base, he played with my slit until my cock released the first drops of precum. He spread them around, added a bit more spit, and squeezed the tip tightly. “Fuck, yes,” I moaned. “Use your mouth on me, nerdy. Please… I wanna feel your tongue.”

He bent in, and I held my breath. He stuck out his tongue and licked my crown, a tentative exploration. Without hesitation, he took the tip into his mouth. Apparently, he liked it. He suckled gently, using his tongue to make everything nice and wet, and god, it felt amazing. Sparking currents ran straight to my core.

“Relax your jaw.” I threaded my fingers through his messy hair. “Take it slow, nerdy. There’s no rush.”

York followed my words like a lifeline, taking me deeper into his mouth. As he sucked harder, the pressure increased, and I held his head with trembling fingers. His skills were a long way off from the twinks who’d blown me in dirty restrooms, yet this felt more arousing than any of those hookups had ever been.

“Good… You’re doing so good.” I almost lost it when he hit a sensitive spot.

“Yeah?” The question vibrated against me, and I affirmed with a groan.

“You got me so hard, nerdy, so fucking hard.”

His movements became more assured, his initial somewhat tentative curiosity transforming into confidence. He took me in deeper, and even though he gagged a few times, he was undeterred and tried again. His left hand was a tight circle around the base of my cock, forming the perfect counter pressure. I took his right hand, placed it halfway on my dick, and mimicked a pumping motion. Pulling that off took some coordination, but I had faith in him. Hell, the man had built miniature model planes. He could master this.

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