Page 55 of The Kiss Principle

I tried to ignore the teeth. I tried to think about how this was Zé, how I’d fantasized about this, how that young guy had looked in what had quickly become my favorite video—drunk on cock. But the reality was that plenty of girls, interested or not, had given me better BJs than this. Mostly because it hadn’t felt like I was going through a meat grinder. It was almost like—

Almost like he’d never done it before.

Using my hold on his hair, I eased back. His lips were puffy. Saliva slicked his chin. But he didn’t look blissed out. He looked frustrated. And then, to my surprise, like he was about to cry. “I’m sorry.”

I hadn’t thought about the fact that, although Zé might have had more experience with guys, he didn’t have much experience in general. Especially not outside of frantic, secret hookups. And while, admittedly, I’d been going through a dry spell (I could hear Augustus laughing halfway across the country), I’d done all right for myself before, well, I’d stopped taking care of myself (if anything, Augustus was laughing harder).

“Don’t be sorry,” I said. I sat and pulled his head onto my thigh, and he rolled onto his back and looked up at me. I finger-combed his hair.

“No, that was horrible. I could tell.”

“Zé, stop.” I gave another little tug on his hair, and he looked at me. “I’m here. With you. I want to be here with you. I’m enjoying being with you. In case this hasn’t made it clear.” I pulled my dick and let it slap against my belly. “I’m enjoying it a lot.”

I went back to running my fingers through his hair. After a while, he said, “I’ve never sucked anybody’s dick before.”

“I’m honored.”

He slapped my side.

“I’m serious, Zé.” But I did press my tongue against the inside of my cheek so it bulged out. He slapped my side again, and I laughed. Some of the tension in his face eased. “I love that you wanted to try that with me. I’m trying a lot of things tonight too, and I’m grateful you were willing to be vulnerable.”

“What’s going on? Why haven’t you called me a turkey turd or a dick bobbin or a blue-balling jackass?”

“I’m being a good sexual partner, pecker-lips.” Sliding out from under him, I eased his head down onto the mattress. Then I moved down the bed. As he propped himself up onto his elbows, I spread his legs and knelt between them. I ran one hand lightly over his scar. I thought that knee still felt hot, inflamed from the strain of the day and the fall. But maybe that was my imagination. I felt hot all over. I felt like I was burning up, actually.

“What are you doing?”

“We’re breaking a lot of new ground tonight, bozo.”

“No, Fernando, don’t. Please don’t.”

“Why not?”

It was hard to concentrate on his words when I was staring up the length of his body: his hard dick, his defined abs and chest, those powerful arms and shoulders, and then his face. In porn, there was never this much talking, so how could this be so much hotter?

That was why it took me a moment to process the words when he said, “Because you’re more, um, straight, I guess.”

“I’m straight?”

“Well, you know. This is your first time with a guy, and I don’t want you to do anything that’s going to freak you out or that you don’t like or…” His voice faltered. “I want it to be good for you.”

Because if it wasn’t good, what? I’d give up on him? I’d fire him?

I slapped the inside of his thigh. Hard.

He let out a noise that wasn’t quite a shout and sat up on his elbows, eyes wide.

“The internalized homophobia is a real boner killer, okay?”

“Fernando! Caralho!”

“Don’t be a baby.”

“That hurt!”

Rubbing the sting out of the red mark on his thigh, I eyed his dick. “Mr. Happy seems like he’s doing okay.”

“What is wrong with you?”

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