Page 63 of Beautifully Conflicted

“Makes sense, I guess.” The hands that were on my ass slide to my thighs, and to my absolute delight they stay there, which is probably why my mouth keeps running.

“Insider knowledge really is a game changer. Wait until I introduce you to your prostate.” Okay maybethatwas too far, although watching him try not to grimace is worth it.

“Yeah, I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready to meet it.”

“You say that now, but wait until you see what happens when you peg mine.”

Right on cue, Bennet’s eyes take a trip to the back of his head. “Did I miss the part where I agreed to fuck you?”

“No, but we both know it’s coming.”

“Jesus, why does the guy with the biggest ego on the planet have to be the one my dick likes?” he mutters.

“That’s not ego, it’s the way the data is trending.” I raise my fingers as I go through the list. “You like the orgasms I give you. I’m willing to be your secret hookup. And at some point, you won’t be able to resist the temptation to put your cock in my ass.”

“How is the inability to resist temptation not ego?” Bennet pinches my thigh, making me squirm on his lap, but to my surprise he doesn’t shove me off.

“Maybe it’s a little ego,” I concede, “but it’s also human nature to keep chasing the things you’re curious about, and since you know I’m willing… We’ll get there.”

“You know the way you say that makes me want to shove you off me, right?” He arches a brow, and now that his face is back to its normal color that gives him the dark angel vibe I can’t get enough of.

“I figured, Lucy. But since you haven’t done it yet, I’m thinking that means you don’t mind having me on your lap. Or you want me to play with your dick some more.”

Bennet’s head falls to the back of the couch with an exasperated sigh. “I really hate you right now.”

“I know.”

“What would you do? If I wanted to try something else?” He lifts his head just enough for his eyes to meet mine.

“Anything you want.”

Bennet

Icheck the time on my phone and bite back a groan. This day can’t go fast enough.

It’s weird, I used to dread the hours leading up to the practices I’d be forced to endure with Damien. Now, I’m counting them down.

Ever since that first day when we both opened up about shit from our past, things have been…different. I don’t mind talking to him as much. I definitely don’t mind exploring his body. And I hate it when I have to leave.

Who even am I?

For the most part, I’m doing a good job of not examining that too closely. And since Damien is content to keep this thing between us quiet, I don’t have to. I can indulge in the physical pleasure without having to question what it means for my life or my career, with no one the wiser.

Ironically, I have Coach to thank for that. His directive that we watch film together gives me a viable excuse to go to his place, and by bitching about that to my roommates no one suspects I’m actually happy for the time alone with him.

It’s coming to an end, though. His ankle sprain was mild enough that’s he’ll be cleared to practice any day now, and I’m basicallyrecovered from the flu. After a week and a half of our own private film review, I’m guessing the one we have today will be the last. If that’s the case, it’s gonna get a whole lot harder to satisfy the curiosity he so accurately accused me of having, so I’ll have to make this one count.

Not that way… I still haven’t worked up the nerve for actual sex, but maybe I could use my mouth onhimthis time.

I’ve been thinking about doing that for a few days now, and the idea has been getting more and more appealing. I think that’s because he seems to get off by giving me head. Plus, now that I’ve seen his cock more than a few times, I’ve realize how fascinated I am by it.

Holding it in my hand… Feeling it slide against mine… Even watching him stroke it… It gets me just as excited as any naked woman, and—to my absolute shock—I want to make him feel as good as he makes me when he’s sucking me off.

Whether that’s a byproduct of our competitive dynamic, or something I want to do for him selflessly, I’m not sure. I just want—noneed—to have this experience.

I’m pulled back to the present when my professor mentions something about mid-terms. Blinking him into focus, I catch the displeasure in his tone. The grades weren’t as good as he would’ve liked, so we’re getting a review on top of our normal homework.Great.

For the next hour, he walks us through at least half a dozen math problems, most of which I tune out since math is something that comes easily to me, and I grasp what he’s teaching after the first example. When he finally dismisses us, I book it straight to Damien’s.

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