Page 35 of Iced Out

As much as I hate admitting it, it took me a few years to be comfortable enough to admit it out loud, even just to myself in the mirror. And even longer to tell anyone else, like my family or closest friends. Especially not knowing how their reactions would be. After all, I never gave off any vibes that I’m into guys. It took everyone by complete surprise, though they were supportive in the end.

I can only imagine it would be the same kinda thing for Quinton, even if he’s not the type to be worried by much. But seeing him with his parents after his first game back…I can’t imagine it would be an easy conversation for him to have on top of everything else he’s dealing with when it comes to them.

“Is that it?” he asks, and it’s then I realize I’ve been staring at him like an idiot without saying anything.

Well, shit.

“Um,” I start, wracking my brain for anything else I might’ve missed. “I think, since we’re going at this like a superstition, we only do it on the nights before a game. Just like it was the night at the frat house. Keep it as true to the first time as we can.”

He snorts, and I hear a flare of annoyance in his tone. “So let me guess, me sucking your dick is the only thing allowed?”

“No, no.” If I’m doing this, I wanna enjoy it too. And I like giving as much as I like receiving, at least when it comes to foreplay. “I was just thinking about what worked before. Besides, I have to put my money where my mouth is and outperform you with my superior oral skills.”

His mood lightens again almost on an instant.

“Superior oral skills?” He laughs, shaking his head. “Again, you can just call it a blow job. There’s no need to make it sound so…clinical. And two, like you’ve so aptly put it…” He leans forward, resting both elbows on his knees. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

I give him a shove, sending him to his back on the mattress. “I’ve been sucking dick a lot longer than you have, de Haas. You’ll see soon enough that I’m not lying about my skill set.”

A playful smirk rests on his lips, and there’s fire flicking in his eyes when he sits back up, both of which get my cock stirring behind my sweats. But a heated look alone has nothing on the lust dripping in his words. “Believe me, Reed. I’m looking forward to it.”

Just like that, I feel like I’m drowning in the sexual tension clouding the room. The hairs on my arms are standing on end, and suddenly, it feels like the temperature’s spiked to somewhere between Hell and the surface of the sun.

And from the look on his face, I can tell I’m not the only one being scorched alive.

“Good, okay.” I clear my throat awkwardly. “What else?”

He’s silent for a second before asking, “Think hand jobs would be okay too?”

“I think we’d be safe with anything that isn’t anal.” I roll my teeth over my lip and glance up at him. “Plus, I don’t even know if it’d be on the table for you as it is.”

A thoughtful look crosses his expression before he nods. “Okay, anything but anal goes for the hook-ups.”

His quick agreement with me doesn’t settle right. Which is insane, because this whole fucking plan is about as cockamamie as putting a pig in a tutu and teaching it ballet. I shouldn’t be upset when a guy I don’t even like on my best day won’t let me fuck him.

Yet…I kind of am.

Make it make sense.

Rather than voicing my disappointment, I just nod. “That’s everything I can think of, unless you have anything else you wanna add?”

“I think you covered it all, Reed.” He laughs again, icy eyes filled with humor. “Just make sure you don’t go falling in love with me.”

I scoff. “A little hard when I’m already in hate with you.”

“Wouldn’t want it any other way.”

I hold my hand out for him to shake. The warmth of his fingers wrapped firmly around my hand immediately reminds me of the way it felt to have them around my cock instead, and another bout of lust surges through me.

But then the idiot goes and opens his damn mouth.

“Shouldn’t we seal the deal with a kiss instead?”

His words heat my blood with both irritation and desire, and the latter only annoys me more. I shouldn’t want him when I can’t stand him. And I definitely shouldn’t be as excited as I am to get down and dirty with him since it’s a fucking recipe for disaster.

Yet here we are.

“I’d rather lick the shower tiles in the locker room.”

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