Page 27 of Flipping the Script

No one deserved to be treated like that, and I wouldn’t wish being outed on my worst enemy.

Fuck.

I told Jesse about my sexuality before anyone else. Not even my sister knew.

Grimacing, I rinsed off my hands. I needed to tell her. I knew she’d be fine with it, but discussing my sex life with my little sister was weird. I knew that was a me problem, but I’d practically raised her while our parents ignored us. It was hard to think of her as an adult, even though she was far more mature than I’d ever be.

When my hands were clean, I turned off the water and then stripped off my shirt to see the extent of the damage.

I had the bruise on my side, another on my opposite hip, and a long scrape under my left shoulder.

Rather than clean it out, I turned on the shower, cranking the hot water to get the tank fired up after being off for months.

Did I care that Jesse knew I was bi?

Not really. I didn’t like that I’d blurted it out like that, and it wasn’t like I could have hidden the truth after kissing him.

Thatwas the part of the encounter that was fucking with me the most.

The arguing and being a jackass to him could be chalked up to my bad mood and lashing out at the first person who pissed me off. Wrestling was a new phenomenon, but considering our past, it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that we’d have ended up in a physical altercation at some point.

The boners could be explained away because we’d been rubbing up on each other, but there was no explaining the kiss.

Or why I’d liked it so much.

“Ugh,” I groaned and shoved my shorts over my hips.

Grappling with Jesse had been hot, and not just because of the accidental frotting.

The sounds he’d made turned me on. The soft grunts and muffled cries reminded me of sex noises. Was that how he sounded when he was getting fucked?

Was he the type to keep quiet and stifle his cries? Was he even into bottoming?

I knew better than try to guess someone’s preferences based on their looks, but everything about Jesse screamed “top,” and the thought of fucking him, of being the one to coax those pleasure sounds out of him, had sent my mind into a tailspin.

All I could focus on was his hard body against mine, his hot breath on my face and neck. How he struggled to break free of my grip, and how he didn’t hold back.

That fight, or whatever it was, hadn’t been about inflicting pain on each other.

It had been about domination.

About getting the upper hand and not just being in control, but being in charge.

I wanted him to submit to me. To give up and admit that I won.

But my desires didn’t end there.

I wanted to own him, not just beat him.

I wanted to kiss him, to frot against him and swallow his whimpers. To bring him right to the edge of pleasure, then back off and watch him fall back to earth and beg me to fuck him.

I wanted to take him right there on the dirty forest floor. Just flip him over and bury myself in him until he forgot where he ended and I began.

Thank fuck he’d come to his senses and broken the kiss when he had. Before it had gone too far, or we’d done something we couldn’t take back.

A kiss didn’t mean anything, and it didn’t change anything.

We’d just gotten swept up in the moment. Between the adrenaline from the fight and the emotional fallout of my impromptu confession, I hadn’t been thinking straight.

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