Page 39 of Romance Languages

“Yeah. Will there be food there?”

“The catering will be immaculate. Do you remember the food from the faculty dinner last year?”

“I’m still thinking about those short ribs.”

“Me too!” Damn, too bad Seamus wasn’t gay because we could have the best dinner dates.

“Why didn’t you want to tell them the truth?” he asked.

I sank into the sofa and sipped my seltzer. “Grandma was so excited for me. And my mom, too. I’ve never brought home a guy before.”

Even if Seamus was my fake boyfriend, I could enjoy the pomp and circumstance around bringing a guy to meet the family and having a plus one.

“It’ll be fun. Your grandma was a trip. What’s your grandpa like?”

“Quiet. Reserved. He prefers to stand back and let her shine.” They complemented each other perfectly. I wondered if that was fate or something cultivated through decades of life together.

We fell into silence. Seamus rubbed his hands on his thighs. We both remembered why he was here.

“I have some leftovers from the tasting session. Did you want something to eat?” I asked.

“Nah, I’m good. Also, you have an amazing place. It’s so nice. Like, you have real furniture that matches. I’m sorry I had you come over to my dungeon room.”

“I liked it. It was cozy.” Seamus’s room was very much him. Shaggy but warm. And there was something hot about fooling around while people were upstairs sleeping.

I chugged the rest of my La Croix, which didn’t have the same impact as downing tequila shots.

“What’s so funny?” I asked when Seamus began chuckling to himself.

“What did I tell you about being nervous? We’re just two friends fucking around, getting you some experience.”

I chanted that in my head as a constant reminder.

“If you’re going to go through this whole performance every time we’re about to get busy, then I’m gonna need to rework my schedule.”

I put down the La Croix. He closed the distance between us, his fresh, musky scent doing wonders to my head.

“You’ve proven adept at giving. Now it’s your turn to receive.”

“Receive? As in, with your hand?” I asked, sounding as clueless as I did leading health class.

“Yep.”

“And you’re still sure you’re okay doing this? Because it’s one thing to receive a hand job, but to be the one giving it…Some guys might be weird about that.”

“We’re not making it weird,” Seamus said adamantly. “Yeah, I wouldn’t normally give guys hand jobs, but it’ll be fun to try.”

“Right. Two friends fucking around.”

“Get comfortable and relaxed.”

I sank back into the sofa and closed my eyes. Seamus massaged my shoulder, which was enough to get me hard.Dear Lord, please let him at least touch my dick before I come.

“Relax, bud.” He rubbed my chest in firm circles, sending me to a zen place. His hands were already doing A-plus work.

I melted under his touch. Bliss radiated throughout my body. I hadn’t realized how much I craved the touch of another man. This was—

What the hell was he doing?

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