Page 3 of Man On

Oh no.

His lips press against mine. They're warm and pillowy. Softer than I thought, despite being pressed so firmly against mine. I'm frozen, eyes open so wide the dry air stings.

I don't dare move. Or breathe. Or think about anything other than remaining perfectly still.

A flash of memory sparks behind my eyes. Of an old friend, his eyes teary and afraid. He was older than me, and should have known better than to cry. But he didn’t have a grandfather like mine to teach him. That’s why he was with us, after all.

I’d never asked what made him do it. I never considered that maybe it happened against his will. If my grandfather were here to catch me, would he understand? No. He wouldn’t. Just like he didn’t understand my friendship with Chris.

"I was just being kind."

"Christian doesn't need your kindness, Isaiah. He needs God. Your destiny is to be His messenger."

Noah's lips move, and I startle out of the memory. His low, deep chuckle sends a shiver of dread through me. No, it's worse than dread.

So much worse.

"You're a shitty kisser," he murmurs against my lips.

Because it's my first kiss. Because I'm terrified.

"Because I don't want to do this," I grit out, my entire body stiff with the effort to not back away, even though I desperately want to run away from this situation. From him.

"Then concede."

I can't. He’ll know.

"Hell no."

"Well then, open up for me, brother. Suck on my tongue the way you want to suck on my big?—"

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" I grit out, shifting to put some space between us before he can feel the evidence of how nervous his words are making me.

His eyes flick down, and he lowers his voice. "Seems like you would."

"That doesn't mean anything," I hiss. I hope the warning tone in my hushed voice is enough to keep him from saying anything loud enough for the people around us to hear.

We're teenage boys, this can't be outside the realm of normal. Someone's touching me, kissing me, for the first time. Anyone would react. My eyes glance down. It's harder to make out through his black jeans than my khakis, but I'm pretty sure…

Before I can point it out, his lips are on mine again. It surprises me, and I gasp. Noah takes advantage of the slight opening of my mouth and slips his tongue inside. The tip of his tongue grazes mine, and the light touch sends a jolt of lightning right to my crotch. I swear I hear a groan, but it's quickly drowned out by the funny choking sound I make as my body revolts. It takes everything in me not to double over and moan. To not react to the wave of pleasure that cramps my stomach and leaves the inside of my boxers wet.

God, no. Please. Help me.

Noah's breath hitches, and I know he knows what just happened.

No, no, no. I don't know what to do. I don't know how to make this go away. Too many thoughts and feelings and sensations are tearing through me. The air surrounding us is vibrating. The light from the fire and at least one cell phone camera are blinding me. The voices of the others are both too loud and muffled. I can’t make out any of what’s being said, but I hear them loud and clear, coming together in a discordant buzz that fills the space between my ears.

I just need to get away. Away from Noah. Away from this clearing, where the weight of everyone's stares is making my skin itch. Away from myself if I could manage it.

I do the only thing I can think to do in the moment, and turn it around on Noah.

"Get your boner off me, y-you pervert!" I yell, loud enough for everyone to hear, and I shove him.

Noah’s bottom hits the ground hard enough that he releases a huff. Before he can say or do anything to make this worse, I spin on my heel and storm back to the cabins. On my way past, my feet kick up sand and dust, making the flames of the campfire sputter and flare. I feel the heat against my back, like the pits of hell are jumping out to welcome me.

CHAPTER 1

NOAH

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