Chapter 13

HARRISON

Benny's eyes have been on me all day.

I know because mine have been on him just as much.

Shirtless, tan, all those muscles glistening. His thick blond hair strangled by a hair tie even as a chunk flicks forward past his ear over and over.

Hell, if I tuned out his constant stream of profanities, I almost had a peaceful day. I really, really like spending time with him.

I also really, really like the look of him. And the smell, apparently, because every time we got close or were both in the cab, all I could smell was his deodorant mixed with his sweat, and something about that combo really got my dick moving. It was both a relief and made me nervous as fuck because if the sleeping tiger is getting on board, I really have nothing holding me back.

From making a move.

On Benny.

And possibly fucking our very new, very welcome friendship up.

"Come on," I say when we jump out of my truck. "We'll put dinner on and then shower."

"Why can't we shower first?"

"If we do, we won't be eating until late. I've got a chicken and some vegetables there with our names on it."

The promise of good food must spur him on because he follows me into the cool house without complaint.

"Marshall? Fe?"

There's no answer, so they must be out. That's another reason Fe is good for Marshall; before they got together, Marshall hardly did anything. He's still not the most social guy, but at least now he doesn't dread parties and meeting people for drinks.

I can't stop myself from throwing a wink over my shoulder at Benny. "Looks like dinner is all ours."

"House too." He opens his mouth, and I wait for something over-the-top flirty to come out, but then … nothing. He changes his mind, swipes his tongue over his lip, and nods toward the kitchen instead. "Let's do this."

That was weird. But then again, it's been a long day, and he's probably getting hangry.

We wash our hands at the sink, standing side by side, that same scent from earlier filling my nose. Dammit. Maybe we should have showered first.

I move away from him and head toward the fridge.

"Can you grab me the measuring spoons?" I ask without looking at him. "We'll need the tablespoon and the quarter-size one."

The chicken is probably too big for us both to eat, but Felix and Marshall will be happy with any leftovers we leave them. I grab all the seasonings from the cupboard and then text Marshall to find out when he'll be home.

It's ridiculous how much I'm mentally crossing my fingers that the answer is late. Very, very late. Tomorrow morning, late.

He texts straight back.

Marshall:

Tenish. Why?

Me:

No reason. Just have Benny here for dinner. Thought I might … test your theory out.

Marshall:

Just text me when you're done.

Well,that's one problem solved.

"Here." Benny dumps a whole handful of measuring spoons in front of me.

I glance from them to him and back again. "I only needed two."

He shrugs and moves to the fridge. "I'll cut the vegetables. You handle the chicken."

That sounds fair. "You sure you can be trusted with a knife? I swear you wanted to kill me a couple of times today."

His grin is evil. "You'll have to trust me and see."

"That's how people die in horror movies."

He carries the potatoes over and dumps them on the counter. "Nah, just these guys." He lifts the first one. "Don't kill me. I just want to provide for my family." And a second. "Family? What family? No one even likes you, Bill." Benny grabs a knife from the drawer and lets out an evil cackle. "You're at my mercy now."

He hacks into the vegetables, and I watch the side of his face, wondering how, how this is the man I'm fancying.

"Those voices are really doing it for me," I tease, hating that I think it's kinda cute.

"I'm tired and hungry, and I'll fake punish our meal if I want to."

"Oohhh, degradation kink and a punishment kink. Learning new things about you every day."

"You could learn—" His mouth slams shut.

I ignore the chicken and turn to him. "What?"

"Nothing."

"Nah, you were about to say something."

Benny moves on to punishing the carrots instead. "Just something dumb. Figured it was probably inappropriate."

"Can't I decide that?"

He sets the knife down and turns to look at me, and just like every other time, those eyes do me in. "You already did."

"What do you mean?"

"Today, when I said you turned me down and you started getting all weird about it. I crossed a line, so I'm sorry, and I'm just trying to be a good friend and remember what those lines are."

Wait. He thinks I got weird over what he said? Considering I never actually clarified anything, how dare he misunderstand me? I want to beat myself with the paprika shaker.

The tension wasn't from him.

The tension was from me wanting to tell him the shit going through my head. Sure, I turned him down, but I'm actually not so sure I meant it. I'm also not sure I didn't. The confusion is real.

But as he stands there, not even a foot away, the words that make no sense to me just … drift away. Does any of it actually matter? Words are useless. Feelings are everything. And I'm having a hell of a lot of them now.

The urge to rub the dirt from his cheek with my thumb.

The curiosity of how his body would feel against mine.

The intense want to know what he tastes like.

My hands itch to touch, to feel his hair and grab his hip, and finally settle that burning in my gut.

His lips part, and fuck, they're pink. Kinda pouty, actually, which isn't something I'd think about a guy as cynical and cocky as him. Benny's face is a mix of contradictions. Soft cheeks, hard jaw, slender nose, intense, suspicious eyes. He's vulnerable and shrewd. Sweet and dangerous.

The nerves in my gut give a kick, and I move without thinking.

My mouth slams down over his.

I hold my breath.

Feel his soft lips under mine.

Wait for discomfort or indifference to hit, but instead, it's like all the blood rushes from my feet to my head.

I pull back with a gasp. "Holy fuck."

Benny's eyes are wide. "Umm … what … what was?—"

I'm a fizzy ball of expectation as I bring our mouths together again. Still with no words but one.

More.

I need more. Need to know. Need to feel. And god am I feeling. The distance between us disappears, and his closeness brings my cock alive. My hand slides into the back of his messy hair to cradle his head, and just as my lips part, Benny pulls back.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait." He's struggling to catch his breath as he stares at me. "You're kissing me."

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"I …" Huh. Apparently, words are important in this situation. "I wanted to."

He makes a noise in his throat. "You wanted to?"

"Yeah."

"But why?"

Fuck. Don't ask me that. It requires answers I just don't have.

"You're curious?" he asks.

It's as close to an excuse as I have. "Yeah."

"Curious about … kissing a man?"

I lean in so my teeth scrape his jaw, loving the salty taste of his skin. "And many, many other things."

"Ah. Fuck."

I know exactly what he's swearing over because his dick hardens against my leg. It's that moment, more than anything, that reminds me what this is.

I'm not just kissing Benny.

I'm kissing a man.

And I don't want to stop.

His arms squeeze between us so he can cup my face. "We can do this … but I don't want it to be the kind of thing where you tell everyone I came on to you. Or where you never speak to me again. If this happens, it happens. It's just sex. We stay friends and maybe even joke about it like we do with everything else. I'm not saying you have to tell anyone, just don't be a dick. This is you making the first move."

"I am." I turn my head to nip at his thumb. "And it's too late not to tell anyone. I already told Marshall about the sex dream I had about you."

Benny's face lights up. "And why didn't I get to hear about that?"

"I thought maybe we could experience it instead."

He suddenly lets go of me and steps away. For one second, I'm lost for what I said to turn him off, but he just starts throwing open cupboards.

"What are you doing?"

"Normally I would have jumped on you by now, but I'm fucking starving. So, we're getting a goddamn pot, putting dinner on exactly as it is, and then I'm going to jump on you."

I laugh and flick open the corner cupboard. Benny all but dives inside for a pot, and while he fills it with water—cursing over how long it's taking—I dump the unseasoned chicken onto a tray and shove it in the oven right as he throws the vegetables in the pot.

Then we meet halfway, bodies colliding, mouths crashing together like our lives depend on it. His lips part this time, and I groan as I drink in how he tastes, how he kisses, how his tongue meets mine over and over again. The kiss is deep, full of need, and possibly one of the hottest kisses I've ever had.

His hands slide over my shoulders, and he pushes down, almost making my knees buckle as I drop to them. At first, I think he's about to ask me to suck his dick—something I need a second to think over—but then he says, "Sit."

"Sit?" I drop back onto my ass, trying to work out where he's going with this.

He doesn't leave me waiting for long. Benny steps either side of my thighs and then lowers himself onto my lap.

I tremble, wrapping my arms around his shirtless torso, skin still warmed from the sun. He smells like salt and sunshine and him, and it has my dick hard as fucking steel.

"You okay?" he asks, voice dipped deep and gravelly.

"Instead of asking me that, get your mouth back on mine."

He smiles, and the glimpse of it that I get before he's kissing me again lights me up inside. The kissing is as erotic as any porn I've jerked off over, and while I wasn't sure if I was interested in more than this, I know I am now.

I think I'll die if this ends without seeing his dick.

But to do that, I have to stop kissing him. To touch it, I have to untangle my fingers from his hair. I don't want to do either of those things.

There's too much about Benny that I want. Too much I want to savor and experience and taste.

He's heavy in my lap, and I love the solid weight of him too. Love that when my hands drop to his back, muscle ripples under my palms. When I reach his hips, they settle there, and with a boost of confidence, I pull him down to sit on me properly.

"Shit," he rasps, rolling his hips. It's delicious torture as his hardness ruts against mine.

The way he works his steely cock against me has my head going fuzzy, and I can't help but sink my teeth into his lip. Just for a second. Just to ground myself.

My chest is working overtime as Benny tugs his lip away and pulls back to look down at me. Those shrewd eyes will be my undoing because I can't look away from them as he drags his thumb over my lips, then presses it inside.

"Suck."

I close my mouth around him and increase the pressure, stroking the pad of his thumb with my tongue. Benny's eyes are hooded as he watches, and a thrill passes through me at making him feel this good.

When he pulls it out, I try my luck.

"You were picturing that was your cock, weren't you?"

"Sure was."

"Is that what you want? Me to blow you? Swallow your cum?"

He grunts, frown creasing his forehead. "I want whatever you're comfortable with."

On impulse, I press my hand to his groin. I can feel every ridge of his dick through his loose shorts, feel exactly how hard he is against my palm. Strangely, it makes me feel powerful, especially when he rubs himself against my hand.

"Touch me. Please."

My balls ache at the rasp in his voice. At seeing Benny forget to be cocky or snarky. Maybe later, I'll have hesitations, but for now, I reach into his shorts and pull out his heated length. The hunger for him burns hotter as I stroke him, wanting more, wanting to see him come.

Benny slams his mouth down over mine again, pouring all the lust into the sloppy kiss. The air is crackling around us, desire pooling in my balls, and the heat from the oven is only making us sweatier. His body is slick against mine, and every inhale is full of his scent, making me delirious with pleasure.

I let go of him for a second to pull myself out too, and I give my dick a desperate tug.

"I knew you'd have a pretty cock."

I shift him forward until our dicks are pressed together, smooth tips side by side, and then I wrap my hand around us both.

Benny's head drops back, and I steady my free hand between his shoulder blades as I lean forward and kiss his Adam's apple. Nip it. Then suck it into my mouth. I kiss my way along his neck, loving the taste and the high of him consuming me.

"Jerk us off," he begs, thrusting into my fist.

I drag my mouth away from him to look down, and as I do, he lands a spit on our cockheads.

I gather it up, and the slickness helps my hand glide easier, makes him fuck my fist faster. His balls tap against mine with every movement as I creep closer to the edge.

It feels so good. So desperate. I'm so damn horny I need to get off. Now. But I don't want this to end.

I'm glad I waited for this to happen when it was supposed to. Here, in this moment, there's no overthinking. I'm ready to feel him with zero hesitation.

"I'm close," he warns, breathing labored. His hands are gripping my shoulders hard, hips moving overtime as I stroke us. The weight of us both in my hand really does something to me.

"Do it," I tell him. "I want to see."

It's only a few seconds until Benny's fingers dig into my shoulders as he lets loose. The ropes of creamy cum that shoot from him are so fucking hot I can't take it anymore. My balls tighten, zaps hitting the base of my spine before I let go too.

My head drops back against the cupboard door behind me as I breathe my way through to completion.

There's nothing but the low hum of the oven, the gently bubbling water, and our ragged breaths left to fill the kitchen, and as my senses come back online, everything sounds too loud.

Benny snaps his shorts back up over his dick, and he shoots a quick look at me from under his hair.

Even though I'm still coming down from my high, I know what that look is. And given what he said about afterward, I can only guess he's been with too many guys who've ended up regretting it.

I lean forward and press a soft kiss to his lips. "That was … everything."

His lips tug with a smile. "Everything is overselling it."

"No. Really." I shake my head, dazed. "I'm still recovering."

"From a hand job? Easy man to please."

It's not entirely from the hand job, though I can't tell him that. All my curiosity is answered, and because it was with Benny just makes it so much better. Can you be attracted to someone's personality before you're attracted to their body? Marshall would argue yes since he's demi, but I know I'm not ace. I'm sexually active. I hook up. I have no issues there. But unlike those hookups where I've been attracted to their bodies and then walked away, this was the opposite. I wasn't attracted to Benny at all at first, and then the more I got to know him, the more curious I became.

Fuck it, there'll be time to sort those thoughts out later.

"Shower?" I ask because we both desperately need it by now.

Benny trails his eyes over the cum on our torsos. "I dunno. I think I like you like that."

My hand whacks his ass, and he climbs off me.

Then, he helps pull me to my feet, which is a good thing since my legs don't want to work properly.

"Are we okay?" he asks.

"More than. We just had incredible sex, now we're going to shower, and then we're going to sit down to a bland-as-fuck dinner since someone got too horny."

"You say that like you didn't kiss me out of nowhere after I've been dying for it for two weeks."

I shrug. "You said you're all about the tension."

"And was I right, or was I right?"

Oh, yeah. He was right.

Now I'm going to do what I said we'd do. Shower and dinner. Back to two friends hanging out.

Figuring out the rest will come.