Page 11 of The Jock
“Wes,” Justin breathed again. The corners of his eyes crinkled. A single frown line appeared between his eyebrows. “Are you…”
Wes nodded. “I’ve never told anyone. Ever.”
Justin stared, really stared, at him, like he was digging for all of Wes’s secrets. Wes let him look, stood and bared himself as he breathed in Justin’s smell and rubbed his thumb up and down his jawline, over the hint of stubble just starting to appear.
Panic he’d tamped down rose again. Justin hadn’t kissed him. Was he wrong? He stiffened and started to pull away. Dropped his eyes to stare at the dirt, at the trampled edges of the grass, the bottle caps dug into the ground. What had he done? He’d made a terrible mistake.
Justin grabbed his face with both hands and dragged him up to press their foreheads together. Wes’s hat tipped back and fell to the ground. He let it go, grabbing Justin’s hip and sliding his hands into Justin’s hair, the short, shaved strands at the back of his neck.
“Is this really happening?” Justin whispered.
“I hope so.” His voice trembled.
Justin’s exhale was hot on his cheek, a short bark of shaking air. His eyes were huge, ringed with desire and, inexplicably, fear. Wes ran his hand down Justin’s back, pulling him closer. “You’re afraid?”
“A little, yeah.”
“Of me?”
Justin bit his lip so hard Wes saw the red skin turn white around the divots he created. “I never get what I want,” he murmured. “This isn’t real. This is a dream. I’m going to wake up and you’re getting ready to go on a run, you’re tiptoeing around the room, you’re putting your earbuds in—”
Wes kissed Justin, pressed their lips together, cut off Justin’s breathless ramble. He tasted cherry ChapStick and felt the slide of Justin’s slick, soft lips against his own dry, rough pair. Did Justin wish he was softer, that his lips were gentler—
Groaning, Justin hurled himself into Wes’s arms. Wrapped his arms around Wes’s head, cradled him in the crooks of his elbows, hooked one knee around the solidity of Wes’s thigh. He kissed Wes as if he’d wanted to kiss him from the moment they’d met, the moment Wes had walked through the door and seen him in the slanted sunlight. And Wes held him tight, held him like he was precious and perfect and everything Wes had ever wanted.
Because he was. In that moment, beneath the lights of the Eiffel Tower, Paris under his skin and inside his veins, Justin was everything he’d waited his whole life for.
Chapter Four
His back hitthe wall outside their hotel room, Justin trying to climb him like a tree. His lips were everywhere, kissing him, sucking on his ear, mouthing his jaw, over his pulse and down to his collarbone. His hands rose over Wes’s rib cage, fingers sliding to his back and digging into his shoulders.
Wes groaned, his hat tumbling to the floor again as he wrapped his arms around Justin and hefted him up, trying to drag him closer, as close as he could. Justin wound his legs around Wes’s waist, looped his hands behind Wes’s head. “Take me to bed, cowboy.”
He fumbled with the lock, arms shaking. Was this happening? Was this really happening? Justin in his arms, Justin pressing kisses to every inch of his face. He tried to breathe like he was tearing down the field, like he’d just caught Colton’s dump pass and had the end zone in sight. His heart was pounding, harder than it ever had during a game. He carried Justin into the room, kicking the door closed behind him.
Justin’s thighs squeezed his hips, hands cradling his face as he gazed at Wes like he wanted to devour him. Wes’s throat clenched, and he stumbled as he headed for his bed. He tried to be suave. Gentle. Tried to hide how his hands were shaking as he lay Justin down on his mattress.
Justin was a koala, clinging to Wes even as his back hit the sheets. He never stopped kissing Wes, their tongues tangling as he pulled Wes’s shirt free from his waistband. They broke apart for the instant it took to rip it off, and then Justin’s lips were back and his hands were on Wes’s skin, traveling over his heaving chest, his trembling sides. Justin tugged Wes closer as he spread his legs. Dragged Wes down, wrapping his ankles around Wes’s back and rolling his hips up, digging his hard cock into Wes’s belly.
Wes made a noise, a grunt, a groan he’d never admit to. His palm landed on the pillow next to Justin’s head as his vision went sideways, and he had to close his eyes and hold his breath as Justin’s thumbs went to work on his nipples.
Despite the lines of fire sliding through his body, burrowing beneath his skin and into every nerve, his cock was turning shy.Not now!
Justin slid one hand down Wes’s chest, down his abs, just like he’d imagined that morning, and reached for his fly.
He stilled when he felt Wes’s flagging erection. Their lips clung together even after he pulled back a fraction of an inch. Wes tried to chase the kiss, tried to chase Justin. No, no, please. He leaned in, dug their foreheads together. He was shaking.
“Wes?” Justin whispered. He’d popped Wes’s fly, and his fingers danced over the bulge of his soft cock.
Why are you doing this now? Now, when this is everything we wanted?
Wes’s breath bounced off Justin’s lips. “I’m nervous.”
Justin’s hand cradled his hip. His thumb stroked the arch of bone, the indent of taut skin over his oblique. “No need to be nervous. I don’t bite.” He smiled. His foot stroked up and down the back of Wes’s thigh. “Unless you say please.”
Wes chuckled. “I don’t know, maybe I’d like that.”
Justin grinned. Then blinked. “Maybe?”
