Page 74 of Night Shift

“Well, I told you I’d never kissed anyone sober within, like, fifteen minutes of meeting you.”

I don’t mean to sound so petulant. I really don’t. But I’m a little bit furious that I’ve spent so long beating myself up for another thing that—surprise—was only an issue in my own head. Once again, Vincent and I are more alike than I realized. And the way he’s looking down at me, half amused and half affectionate, makes me feel stubbornly disgruntled about it.

“You also kissed me sober within fifteen minutes of meeting me,” Vincent points out.

I try to frown. His lips twitch. Mine follow suit. Now he’s full-on grinning.

Before I can crack, I say, “Fuck off.”

And then I reach for the button of his jeans.

Twenty-nine

It’s unspeakably satisfying to watch the smug smile get wiped clean off Vincent’s face, but I only get a moment to soak in my victory.

Because after I unbutton his jeans, drag his zipper over the impressive curve of his erection, and tug his black boxers down, Vincent’s dick springs free—and it’s simultaneously the most glorious and most intimidating thing I’ve ever seen. Longer than my hand, nearly as thick as my wrist, pink at the tip and darker at the base, standing proudly at attention. I don’t know why I didn’t see this coming. I don’t know why I wasn’t mentally and emotionally prepared for the fact that of course this particular part of Vincent is just as big and beautiful as the rest of him.

Don’t say it, I think. Don’t say it, don’t say—

“You have a ridiculously pretty dick, Vincent.”

He makes a choked sound that I think is supposed to be a scoff.

“Shut up,” he says. “Dicks are not pretty.”

They’re really not. Harper’s been on Bumble since freshman year, so she’s forwarded an extensive collection of unsolicited dick pics to our apartment group chat. I think she enjoys terrorizing us. She always waits and sends them when we’re sitting in the same room as her, so she can watch our faces contort in horror and—sometimes—laughter, because dicks aren’t exactly one of nature’s most aesthetically pleasing creations.

But Vincent’s is.

“I take back what I said before,” I tell him. “You are perfect. And so is your dick.”

Vincent doesn’t have a comeback this time. He just hums in that yeah, okay way that tells me he thinks I’m full of shit. I think he’s just being humble, but there’s a blush crawling up the column of his neck that makes me wonder if he’s genuinely flustered by the praise. I know how much courage it can take to let someone put their mouth on you like this. I remember how nervous I was for him to eat me out—to taste me, to smell me, to see everything up close. For all the bravado and big talk Vincent can throw around, he’s also human, and he’s never done this sober.

To break the ice, I ask, “Is this what you meant when you said you’d tutor me in human biology? Because if there’s a pop quiz at the end of this—”

Vincent pinches his eyes closed. “Don’t make me laugh right now, Kendall.”

“—with one of those anatomical diagrams—”

“I’ll be so mad at you.”

“—and fill-in-the-blanks—”

“All right. You’re done.”

Vincent reaches for the front of his jeans to tuck himself back into his boxers.

“No, wait!” I grab his wrists. “I’m sorry, I’ll stop. I promise.”

Vincent is obviously strong enough to shake me off, but he lets me push his arms back to his sides. I offer him an apologetic smile. Then, still clasping his wrists, I lean in and bestow a soft, chaste kiss to the tip of his beautiful cock. I’m not expecting much as far as a reaction, but Vincent surprises me: his breath hitches. His thighs tense. His dick twitches. My jaw drops, because holy shit, I did that. When my eyes flicker up to Vincent’s face, he smooths his expression over and tries to play it off like I didn’t just make his whole body shudder with one little touch.

“You good?” I ask, so smug I sort of hate myself for it.

“I’m fantastic,” he deadpans.

But when I reach out and rub the pad of my index finger over the head of his dick, featherlight and exploratory, Vincent drops the cool and collected facade, hissing like he’s been burned.

“I barely touched you that time!”

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