Page 35 of Beautifully Conflicted

“They feel funny.”

They feel? Fuck… It’s the spectrum thing. He mixed up his words. He’s not purposely being difficult.

“You mean they taste funny,” I correct him.

“No, I mean they feel funny. They’re all slimy but crunchy at the same time which should be a crime.” His body gives a violent shudder, and even though I don’t share his opinion, I can actually see where he’s coming from.

Until he speaks again. “Onion rings are cool though.”

“You do realize there’sonionin onion rings?” I arch a brow at him.

“Of course. But they aren’t slimy when they’re deep fried.”

I say a little prayer for patience before reminding him that since I answered, he needs to be quiet.

“I didn’t agree to that,” Damien says.

“And I didn’t agree to be your teammate or your workout partner, but here we are. Sometimes we have to do things we don’t like.”

“Sometimes we convince ourselves we don’t like the things we do, too.”

Questionable social cues my ass. That fucker knows exactly what he just said.

Biting back the urge to whirl on him with a closed fist, I seethe, “Are you trying to get me to punch you? Because right about now jeopardizing my spot on the team seems worth splitting your lip.”

“I’mtrying to get you to be honest.”

“You think I honestly don’t want to shut you up?”

“Oh, you’re honest about that. It’s what you like I think you’re trying to deny.”

“What wouldyouknow about what I like?”

“Hard, fast, and dirty.”

My mind flashes back to the shower, and the words he muttered huskily while stroking my cock. The heat of that memory raises my temperature and fills me with lust and anger in equal measure. Though, I can only acknowledge one of them.

Since we’re bringing up the rear, no one notices when I yank Damien off the path and push him up against the trunk of a giant Cottonwood tree, pressing my forearm into the base of his neck. “I told you never to bring that up.”

“You said not to touch your dick again,” he rasps from the pressure of my arm. “You never said we couldn’t talk about it.”

Of course he’d interpret that literally…

Being on the spectrum to some degree bought him some leeway up to this point, but now he’s flirting with a line he needs to know not to cross.

“Consider this your final warning. My dick is off limits. Talking about it, touching it, or speculating about what it likes, is not allowed. Understand?”

“No.” Damien’s brown eyes, which are naturally more like chocolate than whisky, seem to darken even further under his hooded lids.

“No?” I step even closer, our chests almost brushing together, and increase the pressure on his neck. “This isn’t clear enough for you?”

He opens his mouth to answer, but nothing comes out. Instead, his eyes seem to roll back in his head right as his body shifts. A wave of ecstasy slingshots up my—

I jump back like I’ve been burned, glancing in horror at the tent in my pants.

How? Why? This can’t be—

“Our dicks want to be friends.” Damien’s heated gaze rakes over me. Which my cock loves if its little happy dance is any indication.

---