Page 56 of Happy Krampus Xmas & the Meet Not Cute
“It’s settled then.” I growl before I kiss him, so fucking greedy for it. It’s messy, all teeth and tongues, as my hand slides to his round ass. His left cheek fits perfectly in my palm. It feels fucking divine, so much that I can’t stop squeezing it as our tongues twist wildly.
His fingers suddenly leave my jeans as the hard length of his cock starts rubbing against mine through the layers of clothes. I lift his leg and anchor it on my hip to get a better hold on him as we slide our bodies together. He grunts and wraps both his arms around my neck.
Humping has never felt this good. This right.
“Want to feel your bare cock against mine,” I almost snarl as the image of a porn clip I saw a few days ago of two guys frotting pops into my head. I bet we’d look hotter.
He lets out a small squawk, it makes me smile. “Yes.” His moan is followed by some laughter too close to us for my comfort.
“Wanna get out of here?” Spencer suddenly asks.
“Fuck yes,” I reply, sucking hard on his lower lip before letting him go.
When Spencer suggested a change of scenery, I had a few ideas in mind. Eating ice cream in my car wasn’t one of them.
Still, my pistachio tastes good and Spencer is here with me. Smiling lazily. My dick can wait a little bit longer. Even though it hurts every time Spencer licks that fucking cone. Every soft moan he utters is causing my leaking cock to soak the front of my boxer briefs.
“You still haven’t told me what you want to do after college,” I remind him, trying to distract myself from…him.
“Social worker,” he replies with no hesitation.
“That’s a tough job, a very altruistic one.”
He shrugs. “The foster care system is bad. I experienced first-hand what it means to be in a broken system where people who should help you don’t give a fuck.”
“I’m sorry.” It’s the lamest thing to say, but I’ve got nothing else. I file this new, small piece of information with the few others I have about him.
“You? Going to be a football player?”
“Family business,” I reply stiffly, giving a hard bite to my cone.
He regards me with a scrutinizing look before asking, “What kind of company?”
“Import, export.” The idea of sitting in an office eight hours a day sucks the life out of me.
“I heard some people saying the NFL is interested in you.”
I shake my head with a sad smile on my face. “It’s possible. My stats are damn good, not for the first picks, but…it’s possible.”
I remember Coach Morgan’s words: “College football is not just a sport, it is an experience.” And damn, he’s right. The best experience of my life.
“I have no idea what that means, but it still sounds fucking huge. Congrats,” he says with a faint smile.
“A chance of a lifetime,” I murmur, shutting down the faint light of hope that is trying to bloom inside my chest.
“Why aren’t you ecstatic?” he asks, looking at me like I have two heads.
“Because next year I'll get my BS degree in economics and then go work for my father.” I try to use a light tone, but I fail.
Spencer throws the rest of his cone in the small trash can on the back seat and then puckers his lips in a pondering manner. “Ifyoucould choose what to do after college, regardless of anybody’s feelings or demands but your own, what would you do?”
I sigh, looking ahead at the cars waiting at the red light. “I can’t let myself think about it. It’s painful to dream when I already know it’s not in the cards.”
“You’re saying that you can’t make decisions about your damn life?” He sounds outraged on my behalf. If his words weren’t so devastatingly true, I’d smile at his affronted expression.
It’s time to change the topic. So, I shrug, and after finishing my cone, I turn to him. “Okay. Here is one decision: I want to suck you off.”
He starts coughing, and I pat his back as I let out a short chuckle.
