Page 31 of First Puck

Probably.

And I wasn’t going to spoil his very first date ever in the entire world just because I was horny.

“You’re blushing again,” I murmured.

“Well, you keep touching my chest,” he replied huskily, sending sparks bouncing through my veins, dancing straight down to my cock.

“Yeah, but, it’s like, for science or whatever.”

He gave me one of his looks, the one that said he wasn’t buying my bullshit. But why else did I keep running my hand over his rock-hard chest?

I pressed my thumb harder against his pec, fighting the urge to sweep his nipple again.

“I just can’t believe you’re so solid, man. Seriously, she’s going to use you like a pommel horse when you fuck her tonight.”

He stilled, every single muscle in his body totally freezing as he blushed. I thought he was red before, but I'd sent him into a nuclear meltdown.

He groaned, and I kind of didn’t want it to be just because I was teasing him, so I burst out laughing. Laughing was way better than showing him how much that sound affected me.

“Sorry,” he said as he scrunched up his face. “It’s just embarrassing.”

“You’ve got to stop apologizing. It’s only going to make it more awkward.”

I just wanted to hug him again, and now would definitely be the least weird time to do it. When he was shirtless and I was winding myself up over him.

To be honest, I didn’t want his date to see that side of him. None of the guys on the team got to see it. Or, at least, I thought they didn’t. Not until I saw him simpering for Lance.

And that thought brought me slamming back to reality.

I shoved the shirt at him and a pair of slacks I’d swiped from the closet beside the drawers.

“Look, change into these. I’ll look away, I promise!”

He nodded shyly at me and I twirled around.

I stepped back and went straight to the drawers as if I was digging out another shirt. I basically stuck my head inside them like I could hide from him or something.

If I could stamp down the weird need my dick was stirring up, I’d be hitting it like a whack-a-mole.

I didn’t want him to think I was a freak last summer after I sucked him off. I thought I was totally crazy for wanting to see him even more fucked up. I wanted him to lose his fucking mind because he needed my dick so badly, and I thought if I told him that, he would get even angrier than he had been for those months after it happened.

I was the one who hit on him back then, and he looked so upset when I came back from jerking off in the bathroom that I thought I was going to lose him.

So, obviously, I made it a hundred times worse by getting pissed off with myself and taking it out on him by callinghimthe freak instead of admitting it was me.

But I swore I dealt with all that shit when we came to college. A bit of dick sucking couldn’t get in the way of our friendship.

But now the question was coming up again. Was it just that I wanted to get my dick wet, or was it that I actually hated the idea that he was going to hook up with someone else? Even though I was a massive fucking hypocrite, because I loved getting laid more than a lazy Sunday morning.

“I’m done,” he said after ages of rustling.

I turned back around, annoyed that the clothes hadn’t really done anything to get rid of his sexiness, though they were a little tight on his chest—and his nipples.

I moved in close to adjust his collar, patting his chest proudly. Not because I wanted to check again how thick his pecs were, but because I was taking care of him, like arealfriend would.

“There, what do you think?” I asked.

Alex looked down at himself, his face blank. He twisted himself left and right, getting a feel for it before he lifted the cuff to his nose.

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