“You heard me say I screamed into a pillow, right? I’ve never screamed before. Moaning, groaning, maybe the occasional shout, but no screams. Tell him.” I nod to Cam.
“He’s never screamed into a pillow before,” Cam confirms.
Bennet nods absently as he processes our words, then finishes his beer and sets his empty glass on the table. “Are we going to this party or what?”
The three of us make our way out of the bar. I’m half-tempted to take Cam’s hand so people have another reason to give us curious stares, but I don’t want him to stroke out with worry.
Turns out I don’t need to hold his hand to fuel any rumors, since word of our make-out session hit the party before we walked in. Pretty much every set of eyes on the premises follows us as we walk through the front door.
“Why does everyone keep asking us how long you’ve been dating?” Cruz corners us when we get inside, leaning close enough that I can hear him over the music without shouting for the whole room to hear.
“You were playing gay chicken, weren’t you?” Liam tries to give us an out, which is nice of him, but unnecessary.
“More like hookup chicken,” Bennet chuckles at his own joke, “but it wasn’t these two playing. It was Jagger and some girl he didn’t want to sleep with again, so he told her he was dating Cam. Then he had to prove it.”
“Did he?” Cruz asks.
Bennet just wears the same smirk I’ve got on.
“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. Why not just tell her you aren’t interested?” Liam asks.
“I mean I could’ve, but I figured the truth would be better.” I shrug innocently, like spilling the secret had been my plan all along.
Cruz and Liam gape at me, then each other, then back to me, confirming that no one in that pairing should be disappointed in the blow job department.
“You are having way too much fun with this,” Cam grunts.
“And you aren’t having enough.”
He leans his head toward my ear. “People are watching us to see what we’re gonna do.”
I feel the eyes, although that’s nothing new. Well, the fear of looking away lest they miss some new development, but the fact people are looking at me isn’t. That’s been happening since I was a kid, I’ve just gotten so used to ignoring it I don’t even notice the stares.
“What are we gonna do?” I give Cam my best, devious smile.
“Nothing. Not a damn thing until we get home.”
“Why not?”
He puts his mouth right up next to my ear, his warm breath making me shiver as it ghosts over my skin. “Because what we’re gonna do isn’t something I want an audience for.”
My throat bobs heavily as I swallow. “How soon can we leave?”
Cameron
“Can we go yet?” Jagger says under his breath before bringing the red solo cup to his lips. Lips that were on mine, upending life as I knew it, less than two hours ago.
I’m still not sure what came over me.
There was the familiar desire to protect him, this time from the tongue-lashing Anna was trying to give him, even if that meant shocking her into silence with that kiss. Except there was more. Underneath that was a yearning to actually kiss him, to see what it’d be like to feel his lips on mine, breathing each other’s air.
Despite being inside him less than a week ago, up until this evening I’d managed to compartmentalize sex and friendship. I didn’t allow the two to bleed into one another by thinking of our physical interactions as anything other than a much-needed release.
I was tempted to blur the line after we fucked and I was forced to acknowledge that was the best orgasm of my life, but by the next day I’d settled on the perfect explanation—it was the best because it was the first time I’d been with a man, not Jagger specifically.
As long as I could operate under that assumption, I figured I could fuck around and keep my feelings in the platonic category. Then Anna backed him into a corner he could only get out of if we kissed, and I reacted.
I didn’t even have time to process what I was doing. I just pulled Jagger to me, found that in addition to helping him out of a bind I wanted that kiss, and took it when he gave me the green light.