Page 23 of Accidentally Joining His Cult

“You’re not the idiot,” Beck scoffs as he stands abruptly. He starts pacing the room, running his hands through his hair.

“I can’t believe I almost kissed you when you’re straight,” he mutters, his voice thick with disbelief. “I really thought you were flirting with me that first day. I thought you were checking me out.”

I stay silent, unsure of what to say as he shakes his head. His voice rises slightly as he continues, “I even thought you were implyingIwas your type—dark hair, blue eyes—when we were joking about that bartender.” He drops his hands to his sides, looking utterly defeated.

“And now I’m trying to put the blame on you for all of this,” he says, his voice breaking. “God, I’m such an asshole. I’m so sorry.”

He sounds so distressed that I can barely stand it.

I know that I’m not doing a good job of expressing myself right now with words, but I really want him to understand what I’m feeling.

Before I can think about what I’m doing, I’m out of my chair, grabbing the back of his neck, and crashing my lips to his. He’s frozen for a moment before giving into the kiss, opening up for me. His lips are softer than I expected, and the rough scrape of his stubble is surprisingly hot.

I tease his lips with my tongue, wanting him to give in entirely. With a moan, he tangles his fingers in my hair, pulling just a bit until I give an echoing moan, and he finally fights me for control. His tongue is in my mouth, exploring and making my head spin.

There’s no denying that I’m kissing a man as we both attempt to eliminate the space between our hard bodies, grabbing onto each other desperately. The firm muscles of his back and arms are hot as hell.

Why have I never kissed a man before?

I bite his lower lip before sucking it between mine, and I love how rough we’re being. I seriously don’t know if my dick has ever been this hard from just a kiss. I try to grind my aching cock into him to get some sort of friction, but he pulls away with a gasp.

“What are you doing?” I ask desperately.

“What amIdoing?” he echoes, still sounding so confused. Can’t we move on from that part and agree that we should be kissing? “What areyoudoing?”

“Trying to kiss you,duh,” I say with some amusement that our answers have swapped in so little time.

“Cody, you just told me you woke up this morning thinking you’re straight, and now you’re making out with me like it’s no big deal!” His voice wavers between incredulity and amusement, like he can’t decide whether to laugh or question everything. “Shouldn’t you be freaking out?”

“Do you want me to freak out?” I genuinely ask. "If I need to have some sort of sexual identity crisis before we can get back to kissing, just let me know. I’ll make it quick.” I give him a cheeky grin.

“I don’twantyou to freak out,” he says, ignoring my kissing suggestion, still looking amused but concerned. “But, I also don’t want you to change your mind tomorrow and wish we hadn’t done anything. I don’t want you to feel like I pressured you at all, in any way.”

I smile even bigger at him. He really is such a great guy. No wonder I like him this much.

“Beck, I thought that I was straight because I’d never wanted to kiss a man before today. Right now, I’d very much like to be kissing a man. Specifically you. So, I must not be as straight as I’d previously assumed,” I shrug. “Seems pretty simple to me.”

I’m sure that for many people, this situation would lead to a more significant moment of self-reflection or a possible identity crisis, but I’m not feeling any distress over this.

“Kyla has taught me to just accept things as I learn them about myself, to not let them hold me back from my future happiness. Kissing you made me very happy, Beck,” I tell him. I know that my smile is obnoxious at this point, but I can’t help it. “You didn’t pressure me to do anything I didn’t want to do other than stop,” I tease and quirk my brow.

He finally gives me a small smile in return. “This is so not how I thought tonight was going to go,” he chuckles.

“Me neither,” I agree and join in laughing. “Can we get back to kissing now?” I ask hopefully, stepping closer to him and placing my hands on his hips.

He grabs my hands to remove my hold, squeezing them in his own before meeting my gaze. “As much as I’d love to continue kissing you and so much more, believe me, I really want to.” He takes a deep breath, then goes on. “We need to stop.”

I feel my smile drop, and I know my face isn’t hiding any of my disappointment right now.

“Or at least pause. We need some ground rules,” he continues, and I perk up at the pause clarification. That means we can start again.

Yes, please.

“What ground rules?” I ask, trying to hurry him along.

“Like, if you’re really sure that you want to do this, whatthiseven means?” he says, sounding like he still expects me to back out.

No fucking way.

---