Page 26 of Spring Breakup
Tyler’s hackles immediately went up. “I don’t need any favors. I’m fine. If you’re not interested, then—”
“Oh, I’m interested. And I’m gonna make you feel better thanfine.I’m done doing the right thing. Bad ideas are sexy too.”
That should not have turned Tyler on, but it did. He wanted to be bad for once.
“I’m the wrong thing?”
There was a heavy pause. “Yes. You’re too innocent and sweet. Too… much heart.”
Sweetness and heart hadn’t served Tyler well in the past. They had made him an easy target.
“Do you usually muscle sweet guys face-first into appliances?”
“No. But I don’t fuck them either.”
“This doesn’t feel like fucking,” Tyler said, even though that was a big juicy lie.
“Yeah, it does.” Dean slipped his hand from the back of Tyler’s neck to his throat. “This okay?”
Tyler flung his head back onto Dean’s shoulder on a gasp. “Yes.”
“You want to be muscled around. You want to fight.”
“How can you tell?” Tyler asked earnestly. Itwaswhat he wanted, but he had never known how to ask for it.
“I just can. Am I right?” As Dean’s lips traveled from Tyler’s ear to his jaw, Dean went from holding Tyler against the fridge with his hands to pressing him against it with his body.
And that was all she wrote.
Tyler was done.
“Yes.Yes.”
It was a blur from there. Tyler was spun around, pinned, pushed, kissed everywhere on his neck and shoulders and throat, and he somehow lost his shirt.
Tyler tried to take Dean’s clothes off, but Dean harrumphed in the back of his throat and bit the naked sweep of Tyler’s shoulder.
“Take off your shirt,” Tyler whined.
“Not yet.”
Tyler reached for Dean’s sweatshirt again and promptly found his hands trapped above his head against the fridge.
“You’re so goddamn pretty,” Dean said.
“What? No one thinks I’m pretty.”
Dean pressed their foreheads together. “You’re out of breath. Your face is red. You keep moaning.”
“I do?”
“Shush. You’re sexy, Tyler. You have me itching for my pencils. I’d draw your O face and fuck myself to it every night, that’s how pretty you are. Do you have to argue with me about everything?”
“You’ve never seen my O face. You might not like it.”
“Oh my fucking God,” Dean laughed. Then he practically threw Tyler to the floor.
Tyler tried to fight him on that too because that was what they both wanted. He tried to wiggle out of Dean’s hold, to take control, to get away. And each time Dean put him back where he wanted him. Tyler hadn’t realized wrestling could be sex, but each time his shoulder blades scraped against the wood floor, he lost his mind. Each time his socked feet scrabbled against Dean’s denim-covered legs, then his bare feet against hairy legs as they both lost clothing, Tyler got harder and harder.
