Page 35 of Jace
“Hey, there you are. What are you doing up here?”
I open my eyes and, surprisingly enough, find Tack standing before me, or no… Tuck? Yeah, Tuck. He has a crate of booze in his hands. The sight ofthatmakes my stomach churn, and I inhale deeply to try to settle myself. Christ, I really do smell terrible and need to shower badly.
He’s not noticing my inner turmoil, though, just standing there, taking me in, interest in his gaze. I think. He raises his brows in question when I don’t say anything.
“Wha?” I ask, and he snickers at that.
“Everything alright?” He puts the crate on the floor and comes closer, putting a hand on my waist. “Thought I lost you downstairs.”
“Yeah, I’m okay…” I blink, my vision blurring again. “Well okay-ish. Bit… Ya know.” I gesture at the crate of liquor, and actually snort when his other hand finds my waist as well, steadying me, amusement in his blue eyes.
I maybe like the feel of his big hands on me, attached to a pair of gorgeous arms, which I obviously take a hold of, because fucking duh. They’re nowhere near as big as Ty’s biceps, but in my opinion; nothing can compare to those.
They’re especially awesome when Ty comes over to Yetties after a particularly brutal practice, making it all bulky and more defined and so, so tight in his sleeves… and I really, really, want to touch all that muscly muscle once. Just once.
And then lick him everywhere after, of course.
Tuck’s gaze zeroes in on my tongue that has darted out to wet my lips, and I can’t help but smirk at my own stupidity. Damn, there’s an almost perfect guy right in front of me, and maybe I should fucking just go for it, take care of the consequences tomorrow, because he sure can help me out with this crazy and stupid football player infatuation I have going on.
At least I hope he can. Because that shithasto stop. Since the object of my attention claims he is ‘oh so straight’, this one’ll have to do to get my permanent boner out of the way.
Promise to myself or not.
So I do what I do best, and tug Tuck to me, claiming his mouth, hoping that I can trick my Tyler-fixated-dick.
NINE
When I find Jace liplocked in the hallway, I freeze, the joggers and shirt in my hands forgotten. It’s not that this is the first time that I walk in on a friend making out in this particular hallway–and by making out, I mean mauling each other like they need eachother to fucking breathe–but it is the first time I walk in on some dude-on-dude action.
And some dude-on-dude action it is, damn …
Tuck has Jace pressed against the wall, his arms wrapped around him, kissing him thoroughly it seems. I only see the back of his head, can’t really make out his face, but it looks like he’s enjoying himself.
But Jace? He sureisenjoying himself, the half-smirk visible on his face even while kissing, eyes at half-mast. His hands are shoved into Tuck’s short hair, grabbing on tight. But that's not the main thing I take notice of, no, that's mostly reserved for the way Jace thrusts up against the body in front of him. It’s like his hips are moving on their own accord, looking for some friction.
Jesus those thrusts. Girls don’t do that… At least not the ones I’ve been with. Not likethat.
And fuck me, I blame this entirely on the alcohol that’s buzzing in my veins, because I hadsomuch, but I don’t hate the sight of it.
That much.
And ain't that a total mindfuck?
I blink when Jace lets out a long, low groan, the twitch in my dick from the sound totally foreign to me.
Fuck me again. I quickly take a step back, wanting to get the hell out of here. But of course, I slam into the doorjamb with my back, and they stop their whatever the hell that was.
Tuck lets Jace go and spots me over his shoulder. “Oh hey, Ty. Sorry, I borrowed your friend for a bit.” He gives me a big, innocent smile and eyes the clothes in my arms. “Is that for Jace?”
I try to answer–I really do–but I’m totally, one hundred percent, focused on Jace.
Jace, who’s gaze has practically molten, who’s looking at me like it’s me who he wants to devour.
And who has a raging hard-on clearly visible in his too-tight jeans.
Not that I’m consciously looking, but it’s justthere.
When Tuck just shrugs at my silence, he turns around again, and I take that opportunity to adjust my own hardening dick. I don’t knowwhyI need to adjust myself, but fuck…
