Page 46 of Tapped By My Roommate
He led out a shaky breath. “I’m trying.”
I kissed his neck just above the bowtie. “You’ll get there. I don’t mean to rush you.”
“You’re not,” he said. “Still. Rule Five starts now. I’m going to shower first tonight.”
I sighed, slumping back with a smile, and watched Ethan head down the hallway. I shouldn’t have pushed it. Ethan might say it was okay, but he’d have stayed in my arms longer if I hadn’t teased him. I made a mental note to keep my mouth shut next time and enjoy the afterglow.
13
ETHAN
Rhett bent over to pull a casserole out of the oven. His jeans stretched tight across his ass. I stared, unable to stop myself from acting like a horndog, even though we’d just traded another set of orgasms.
We’d fallen into a pattern. I came home from my last class of the day, Rhett was waiting on the futon with a “movie”—no more porn since that first time, but any movie would do as our code for hooking up—and I’d join him. We’d make out until dinnertime, usually our hands would wander, and our cocks would come out at some point. Sometimes we rubbed off together, like that first time, and just the weight of him made my head spin in the best way. Other times we used our hands to stroke one another off while kissing messily. But it hadn’t gone any further yet.
Rhett was waiting for me to make the next move, and I hadn’t mustered the courage to suggest anything different. When he was kissing me and touching me, it felt so good. It was difficult to remember there wasmorewe could do. Or to believe that anything else would be better. It already topped the chart of my sexual experiences. It wasn’t a long list, and Rhett outstripped the competition by a mile. I still didn’t know if that was because this was all new and exciting; because I actually enjoyed sex with a man more; or because it was Rhett, who was so considerate of my needs.
Tess hadn’t worried about my desires. My job had been to please her. I hadn’t wanted to be labeled one of those selfish guys who didn’t know his way around a woman’s body. Sex had become a challenge to prove myself. My girlfriend before Tess had treated me better, but we’d both been virgins. We’d fumbled along, not really practiced at anything, and we’d both been too shy to really learn one another’s bodies.
Neither of those experiences had done much for me.
It was different with Rhett. We’d done so little in terms of sex acts, but it felt so much better. I could let go, let him guide me, and just experience it. I wished he’d take the next step without me asking for it. But at the same time, I was kind of glad he hadn’t. Because it gave me time to fully appreciate what we were doing. If, or when, we changed it up, things might not feel the same.
“Hope chicken and rice is okay,” Rhett said, breaking me out of my thoughts.
I jerked my gaze up. He smirked, fully aware I’d been checking him out. My cheeks warmed, but I pushed down the embarrassment and met his gaze steadily. We were hookups. Looking at his ass was normal, right?
“I’ll eat anything you want me to,” I said.
His eyebrows went up, and I could practically see the dirty thoughts crossing his mind. He didn’t voice them. He probably thought I’d clutch my metaphorical pearls at the thought—and who could blame him after all the rules I’d made?
Rhett placed the casserole on top of the oven, then used a pair of tongs to place oven-baked chicken thighs on two plates. He spooned out rice and mushrooms baked into a creamy sauce. So far, we’d taken turns cooking dinner so that we could save on take-out.
“You want to eat at the table or in front of the TV?” he asked.
I went to the refrigerator to pull out a couple of sodas. Mountain Dew for me, which Rhett detested, and Diet Dr Pepper for him, which was funny because of the two of us, he was the one who burned the most calories and stayed fit. The most exercise I got was taking the stairs up to our apartment.
“Yeah, I don’t think I can sit on the futon with you.”
Rhett looked confused for a beat. Then a wry smile tilted his lips. “Like Pavlov’s dog, huh?”
“You’ve ruined me for watching movies in my own home,” I teased. “You should be ashamed.”
Rhett placed our plates at the flimsy dining room table he’d picked up at a thrift shop. Most of the apartment was furnished by him. I’d simply responded to a roommate-wanted ad soon after breaking up with Tess. Midway through the semester, I hadn’t wanted to try to get college housing.
Rhett had interviewed me with a series of questions that had included, “Do you have a problem with gay guys? Because I fuck men.”
I’d stuttered out a reply. Something along the lines of, “No, I hate bigots.”
Whatever I’d said, it had been the right thing. Rhett had grinned and said, “Then you’ve got yourself a roommate.”
I’d never dreamed at the time that I’d ever be flirting with a man or coming with him on the living room futon. Of those two things, it was the flirting that seemed more farfetched. I’d never been good at those subtle games people played. But Rhett made it easy.
“Maybe I should feel ashamed of corrupting my innocent roommate,” he mused, tilting his head. Then shrugged. “Nah. I feel pretty good about it, to be honest. Kinda proud.”
“I’m not that innocent,” I muttered as I set the sodas on the table and took a seat. “Time for Rule Five.”
His grin faded. “Right, sorry.”
