13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Logan

It was almost three in the morning when Nick and I stumbled into our motel room, holding each other up and laughing like a couple of lunatics.

"Shhh, people are sleeping," Nick said way too loud.

I snorted a laugh. "You shush. You're the one yelling."

We'd clearly had too much to drink, but it had been fucking fun to unwind, especially after I had enough liquor in me to let go of my jealousy for the rest of the night and ended up talking to the women who'd been friends with the girl Nick had danced with. Once I told them I had a girlfriend waiting for me in California, they stopped hitting on me.

I shut the door behind us, and Nick stumbled his way into the bathroom to piss and brush his teeth. When he came out, it was my turn. After washing my hands and brushing my teeth, I found Nick sprawled out, face down, on the queen-sized bed with the most hideous bedspread I'd ever seen in yellow and brown flowers. But what did that matter when he was only wearing his white briefs?

He was so relaxed and beautiful, but as much as I wanted to share the bed, I needed to sleep on the floor. If I slept next to him with him wearing virtually nothing, I'd probably end up wrapped around him as I had the other day in the tent. After that morning, I pushed my sleeping bag farther away from him. Well, as far as I could go in that tiny tent.

I grabbed an extra pillow, opened the closet to grab the spare blanket, and dropped them on the floor. The matted yellow shag carpeting was questionable in cleanliness, but I'd just shower again in the morning.

I yanked off my T-shirt and jeans, tossing them on top of my closed suitcase.

"What are you doing?" Nick asked, rolling onto his back, spread-eagle.

Don't look at his junk.

Don't look at his junk.

"I'm going to sleep on the floor."

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I am."

"Dude, the bed is big enough for the both of us."

"Nope."

He sighed and rubbed his face. "If you're afraid of snuggling into me, Mr. Snuggle-Wuggles, don't be. It doesn't bother me."

It bothered me .

I rolled my eyes and tried to lie down on the floor, but Nick grabbed my arm and yanked me onto the bed hard enough that I fell on top of him. I quickly rolled off and sat up.

Dammit. His body was smooth and hard, and my skin instantly reacted to it as my drunken dick tried to stir to life.

"Hey, you know what we should do?"

"Sleep?"

He snorted a laugh. "No, you silly, Snuggle-Wuggles."

"Jesus, please tell me you're not going to stick with that."

The sparkle in his drunken eyes told me otherwise. Hopefully, he'd forget by the morning.

"Maybe. Anyway! We should help you with kissing."

"Come again?"

Nick sat up and faced me, crossing his legs. Shit, did his briefs have to be white? "We need to practice your kissing skills, you know, to help you. So, when you're ready to find the man of your dreams, you'll know how to kiss."

"That's not happening," I mumbled before I pointed at him. "You're drunk."

I really wanted to fucking kiss him more than anything, but this was ridiculous, and I didn't need anything else to make me pine harder for him.

"Well, true, and so are you, but come on . Let's do this. That way, when you kiss your future boyfriend, you won't, like, hammer his lips to death."

I pointed at him again, suddenly forgetting what I wanted to say, but he grabbed my finger and didn't let go. My body shivered at his touch.

"You're an ass," I said when I found my words.

"Also true. Seriously, this will be good for you. I don't mind being your gwuinea… gunnie… guinea pig."

God, was I seriously contemplating this? Yes, only because I'd been dying to kiss him for what felt like forever, just to finally experience his taste and feel how soft his lips really were, or if I'd like the scrape of his stubble against my skin.

No, I couldn't go there.

Red flags were waving in my hazy brain.

"Nick, you have no idea what it's like to kiss a guy."

"Neither do you, dipshit."

Good point .

"But I'm gay, and you're not."

"So? By the way, I actually do have more experience kissing guys than you."

I raised a brow and scoffed. "Please."

"Yep, Caleb and I were around thirteen-ish and in the eighth grade. We really wanted girls and had no idea how to kiss at all, so we practiced with each other."

I snorted a laugh, struggling to believe it. "Caleb? The dude who can't keep it in his pants for any girl?"

"The very one. I gotta say, he's a pretty good kisser. It's why the girls like him; that and his model looks. Once I started dating Lauren, I had a good idea of how to make a kiss good for her. Now, I want to pass that knowledge along to you."

With a flicker of hope, I suddenly saw Nick in a new light. I should squash this. Hope was dangerous to my heart.

Fuck, should I do this?

It would be nice to know how to kiss right. Pecking wasn't the same—as Nick had made abundantly clear. Shit, but what if I liked it too much? Of course, I'd like it. Could I fight my attraction to him after this? Maybe if I treated the kiss from a clinical standpoint. Ugh , impossible. There was nothing clinical about wanting Nick.

"Caleb's straight and safe."

He thought about it for a moment and shrugged. "A guy is a guy, right?"

"And you all were kids."

"So what? Caleb still isn't a girl."

"And we're stepbrothers."

"We aren't blood-related, weirdo."

Nick suddenly waved his hands in the air and shook his head. "Wait, wait, wait… Look, it doesn't matter. The point is , practicing how to kiss really helps, and it gives you confidence when you find your partner."

His brow furrowed, and he looked deeply into my eyes as he leaned forward, hovering his face over mine. He was so close that I felt his heat and breath on my skin, which smelled of beer and toothpaste. "So, how about it?"

"Okay," I whispered before I could take it back.

"Awesome!"

I just had to remember this was only for practice. Nothing more. Nothing less. I would get nothing out of this other than experience. Then maybe I could hit a gay bar without feeling totally inept.

He pulled away and sat up straight. I crossed my legs to mirror him. "Now, you don't want to put your lips on top of the other person's mouth. You're not giving CPR. You also don't want to pound your mouth against the person either. Well, you can. It depends. Sometimes kisses are all hungry, rough, and shit…"

"What's a hungry kiss?"

"You know, like… you need to kiss them in order to, like, live."

"How do I know when to be gentle or rough?"

Nick tapped his lips with his forefinger, and I couldn't pry my eyes off them. "Hmm. You just have to know the signs, you know? It's hard to explain, but if you're intimate with someone, usually you have a good idea of what the situation calls for. Or you can follow your partner. Let them take the lead."

"Okay." I was still kind of confused, and all the drinking didn't help, but I tried to make a mental note.

"You want to turn your partner on with a kiss by using everything at your disposal and whatever they'll let you."

I sat quietly, listening to his instructions.

"You have to move your mouth and use your tongue, but not too much tongue. You don't want to, like, lick their tonsils. But you also want to touch the body somewhere, like cupping the cheek or placing your hand at the nape of the neck. Maybe you can run your hand along their chest. I'm not sure if guys like being touched there like girls do or not. I mean, I do… Anyway! Here, like this."

Nick placed a gentle hand on the side of my face and looked into my eyes. My throat constricted at his touch, and my heart started to race. "You want to look them in the eye. Show your partner that they're your sole focus. Nothing else matters in the world but them right at that moment."

I swallowed down my nerves and folded my clammy hands into my lap.

"As I said, kissing comes in all sorts of ways. It can be soft and tender, intimate, hungry, or aggressive with nips. It all depends on the moment and what type of kiss is called for. For now, we'll stick with the basics and be gentle about it."

"Okay."

My heart was so heavy in my chest and was so loud I was sure Nick could hear it. How was he so casual about this? My first real kiss would be with the man I'd always wanted. But was it real?

Don't be an idiot. Of course, it's not real. This is just practice.

Already, my heart and mind were getting confused. But I wouldn't stop this, even if the motel exploded around us. I needed this experience as much as I needed to breathe and feel Nick's mouth against mine.

"I'm going to lean in and press my lips to yours. It will start soft, and I want you to mimic me."

"All right."

Nick leaned forward, and my breath caught at his nearness. Suddenly, the sun came up behind my closed eyes when his mouth touched mine. I was also slightly dizzy, but that could've been all the drinking. Fuck, I hope I didn't whimper. I couldn't tell with the pounding blood in my ears.

He took my bottom lip into his mouth, kissing me before pulling away to do it again to my upper lip while I copied him—or did my best to.

His hand slid from my face to the back of my head, and he gently grabbed my hair, so I did the same. As soon as I did, our heads tilted, and his tongue slipped into my mouth. I almost died. It was like having a wish fulfilled but not knowing what to do with it.

My dick came to life, trying to punch through my underwear, uncaring how much I'd had to drink. My libido won out and took over. I just prayed Nick wouldn't notice or that he wouldn't look down.

Our tongues danced and swirled, tasting like sweetened mint and not as sloppy as I'd expected. Nick moved his body closer to me, and his head tilted from one side to the other, not keeping still.

I wanted more. So much more. My cock throbbed, and I grew hungry for him—starved, really. Now I understood what he'd meant about hungry kisses. But before we could go any deeper, Nick pulled away, and I wanted to cry out. I gasped breathlessly, feeling naked without him.

He coughed and let go of my hair. "Well, that was good. You did well, my young grasshopper."

I couldn't even smile, feeling even drunker, but from lust rather than alcohol. Was that possible?

"Huh. Would you look at that?"

I followed Nick's eyes down to his dick, which was swollen as much as mine was, and you could see the outline and shape of the head trying to punch through his white briefs. Then his eyes looked between my legs before moving to my face.

"I, ah, guess that's enough practice for one night."

My face burned from the embarrassment, despite him being in the same dilemma. "Nick, I'm so sorry that… I didn't mean—"

"Sorry for what? Don't be. That's a normal reaction."

"Oh, okay," I said, feeling uncertain and still slightly mortified.

He got hard, too.

What does that mean?

What does that mean?

Was he as into the kiss as I was? Or was it just a ‘ normal reaction ,' as he claimed? I had no reference point to judge. Still, for the first time, I had that tiny spark of hope again, but I smashed it. That road would only lead me to a world of hurt.

Nick climbed over me and fell to his side in bed, still as hard as I was. I quickly looked away when he slipped under the blanket and sheets.

"You did really good, Logan. You're a natural."

"Thanks for teaching me."

"Anytime, bro."

I winced at the familial reminder.

At least I could say I got my first real kiss with the very man I wanted in my life, and not by some stranger in a bar who didn't matter. That meant something.

I fell back onto my pillow and laid there with my arm tucked under my head, as Nick closed his eyes and fell asleep. Meanwhile, I relived our kiss. Lesson or not, it was a kiss I'd never forget, and that made it special.