Page 12 of Kiss-Fist
And the boner I popped that Thom most definitely saw.
Rhett knows damn well my policy about hearing guys, no matter how good-looking they are and how good they would probably be in bed. So yeah. I’m not living this down.
‘Don’t,’ I order as I reach for the mug, doing my best to hide my pain. I’m not good at it, of course. Fifty percent of my language is on the face, and I don’t think I could hide my expression even if I were paid to do it.
He shakes his head as he sinks into the chair across from my desk and rests the side of his foot against the edge. If Ihad the strength or the will, I’d knock his leg down, but I don’t. It’s enough for me to lift the coffee to my lips and drink down the sweet, sweet caffeine my body desperately needs.
I’m not saying I didn’t sleep well. But I’m also not denying that I woke up at three in the morning, aching like I had the flu. I should have called in sick.
‘It gets better,’ Rhett finally says once he has my attention again. ‘I promise.’
I don’t believe him. ‘I think I’m good. I’m strong now. Gym life isn’t for me.’
He rolls his eyes and drops his leg, leaning over his thighs. ‘Trust. It gets better,’ he signs again.
Why the hell does he even care? It’s not like he’ll be out of a job if I have a heart attack. The college has been courting more Deaf professors in various fields now that they see how actually successful and educated we are in our area of study. And other colleges are starting to take notice.
I highly doubt it’s going to create a movement, but I’m willing to bet some of my retirement that it will make a little difference, which means people like Rhett will always be in demand.
‘Just give it a chance.’
‘You just want someone to go with you who isn’t Mellie,’ I argue.
Rhett pouts. ‘Have you seen his arms?’ He puffs out his cheeks and begins describing them in detail. Even works his way down to his abdomen and describes his six-pack.
I let him continue for some time, enjoying the way he manages to use classifiers to describe the humanform. He really is very talented. As annoyed as I am with him in this moment, I can admit that. His signs are like butter.
When he’s finally done, his cheeks slightly flushed, I arch an eyebrow. ‘Are you turned on right now?’
‘Maybe.’
A laugh leaves my mouth, and I add, ‘I’m not going to embarrass myself just to make you feel better about standing next to your boyfriend. I don’t like you that much.’
He flips me off. ‘That’s not what I meant,’ he lies.
‘Maybe you should stop being an interpreter and be a professional bullshitter.’
He pouts, his lip jutting out, his big eyes blinking up at me.
It only makes me laugh harder.
‘Your puppy eyes don’t work on me. My dick doesn’t want you.’ Ain’t that the truth. The traitor in my pants wants a guy who checks every box on my hell-no list. Well, okay. Noteverybox. He checks quite a few hell-yes boxes, but he’s also a deal breaker.
Honestly, why can’t I find a nice, hot, adorable, dimpledDeafguy with shitty spelling who speaks my language and doesn’t mind that I’m a disaster in the gym? Is it really such a big ask?
Rhett knocks on the desk, and I look up when I feel the vibration under my palm. ‘Door.’
Crap. It’s not technically my office hours, but if the light is on, I’m free game. Should have turned it off and hidden in the dark like a goblin.
I gesture for Rhett to grab it, and he flips me offagain. He’s not on the clock, but we have an understanding, and he’ll tell me if he minds doing a little extra work.
He’s minded a lot less now that he’s getting regularly dicked down. There’s more pep in his step, and I kind of hate him for it. Last night, I typed half a text to Rome, propositioning him since he did leave the door open, but I couldn’t bring myself to send it.
No, instead, I abandoned the thread, then stood in the shower under the hot water and pictured Thom and his terrible yet sexy man-tits and the way he could make them bounce with the slightest tug on his pectorals. I came so hard I saw stars, painting the shower wall with my cum.
It didn’t slide down the drain like it was supposed to. There was so much of it.
I forced myself to clean it off as a punishment for lusting after the one man I won’t let myself have. When I was done, I once again stared at Rome’s name until my eyeballs hurt before saying screw it and falling asleep with the letters of Thom’s name ghosting across my fingers.
