17. Jesse

17

JESSE

"You were, admit it," I said, hating the little thrill that moved through me at the thought.

I'd been worried as hell about him. It was nice to know I wasn't alone.

"Fine." He whirled on me, his eyes blazing with something I couldn't read. "I was worried about you. Are you happy? That's why I was such a dick when you got there. Because I was fucking terrified something happened to you, and I don't know what the fuck to do with that!"

He jumped up. "Do you have any idea how humiliating this is? I'm a grown-ass man, but I still fucked up the most basic of things and needed you to come and save my ass. I forgot to replace my spare tire. I hit that fucking pothole because I was so busy thinking about you that I wasn't paying attention." He made a dismissive sound, almost like a pish . "But of course, you wouldn't know anything about being pathetic, would you? You're always the savior, and I'm always the one who needs saving."

I jumped up, not liking the power imbalance of having him looming over me and tried to digest everything he just said.

"Whatever," he rushed on. "Have a laugh at pathetic, stupid Sebastian. And now you can tell everyone how I had an hour-long panic attack because I thought you were dead on the side of the road and I was stuck in my stupid car and couldn't help you!"

He widened his eyes, like he only then realized everything he'd said.

That was a lot to process, but my brain was fixated on one line over all the others.

"You were thinking about me when you hit the pothole?"

" That's what you got out of all of that?" he asked incredulously.

"What do you want me to say?" I snapped, my anger coming out in a burst. "That I wasn't worried about you? Because newsflash, jackass, I was."

"You were?" Some of the heat was gone from his voice, but he still looked like he was seconds away from either bolting or taking a swing at me.

"Yeah, I was. I spent the entire drive worried that something had happened to you and I wouldn't get there in time. Happy?"

"I guess?" He shook his head, like he was trying to clear his thoughts. "Go ahead. Say it."

"Say what?"

"Whatever you're holding back. Call me stupid. Tell me I'm an idiot or a jackass or whatever else. Get it out now because I know it's in there."

"It's like you want me to be mad at you," I accused. "Do you want me to yell at you and call you names? Will that make you feel better?"

"I don't know!" he snapped. "I don't know what I want. And I hate it."

"Hate what?" I asked, trying to catch the tail of the conversation as he bounced between thoughts with no segues.

Bas wasn't angry, not really. I'd known him long enough to see the subtle differences in his moods. Whatever was fueling this outburst went deeper than simply being pissed or even embarrassed. But it was hard to remember that when he was being a jackass and trying to goad me into fighting with him.

"This. All of this!" he burst out. "I don't know what to do with it. The one thing in my life that's always made sense is this." He waved between us, his expression accusing. "But now I don't even have that.

"I don't like you, but you're not awful. You annoy the fuck out of me and test my patience more than anyone ever has, but I don't hate it. I keep trying to stay the hell away from you, but I can't."

The anguish behind his words was enough to break me free from some of my own anger. This was about so much more than just tonight or even the shift between us.

"What the fuck is wrong with me?" he rushed on. "I hate drama. I actively avoid conflict, but it's like my common sense shuts down the second you're around. And I'm always escalating things with you." He raked one hand through his still-damp hair. "I kissed you when you brought that stuff up here. I put your dick in my mouth at Ben's party. I met you upstairs at your parents' and asked to fuck you. What the actual hell is wrong with me?"

"That last one isn't on you," I said automatically, still processing everything he'd just said. "I dared you to meet me there, and I agreed to let you fuck me."

He rolled his eyes. "So two out of three are my fault. Awesomesauce."

"Awesomesauce? I haven't heard you say that in years."

"It's been a weird day," he said again. Some of the fight left him, but he was still so agitated he was shifting from foot to foot.

The movement was making me antsy, which wasn't helping me keep a clear head.

"I just don't know what to do with any of this." He shot me another accusatory look.

"You think I do?" I asked incredulously, my anger getting the better of me. "Do you really think I like how I'm a completely different person when you're around? I hate drama too. I don't fight with people, ever, but I can't stop fighting with you. I don't want to stop fighting with you. It's familiar and comfortable, and I hate that I don't hate it."

"So what do we do about this?" he demanded.

"Hell if I know."

His glare shifted into his trademark smirk. "We could fuck again."

I let out a spluttering laugh. "Really? That's your solution?"

"Why not?" He arched one eyebrow salaciously. "Isn't that what we do now? Fight and fuck?"

I started to say no but stopped. He wasn't wrong. That was kind of our thing now.

When the fuck had that happened?

"We could do that." I raked my gaze up and down his body elevator-style. My dick perked up, and a flutter of something that almost felt like nerves detonated in my stomach. How he could look so good in an oversized hoodie and a pair of worn and baggy sweats was beyond me. "Are you gonna let me have a turn at that ass?"

"You saying you don't wanna fuck if I don't bottom?" he asked. His words could have come across as aggressive or short, but his tone was weirdly neutral.

"Didn't say that. Just asked a question."

"Sure. You can fuck me." His expression went feral, and my heart rate picked up. "If you can outlast me."

"Outlast you?"

Was he saying what I thought he was?

"We'll flip." He looked me up and down the same way I'd just checked him out. "But only if you don't come first."

My ass clenched and my stomach tightened.

I hadn't been able to stop thinking about how good it felt when Bas fucked me. Maybe it was because we'd known each other for most of our lives, but he seemed to innately know exactly what I needed. And how to give it to me in a way that turned my brain into soup and allowed me to just let go and be in the moment.

It was the first time I'd ever gotten out of my head and relaxed during sex. Where I hadn't been responsible for anyone's pleasure and could just enjoy it. And he'd made me come hands-free, something I would have sworn was impossible for me because of how in my head I always was.

Sex with Bas was amazing, hands down the best I'd ever had. What did it say about us that we couldn't even talk without pissing each other off, but we could so easily read each other when there were no words involved?

I trusted Bas. It was fucked up, but I felt safe with him. Like I could finally take off the metaphorical masks he accused me of wearing and just be me instead of the Jesse everyone expected me to be.

I had no idea what the fuck it meant, but I couldn't deny how much I wanted him. How much I always wanted him.

He glanced at the obvious bulge in my sweats and arched his eyebrow playfully. "What do you say, Miller? Ready to get your world rocked and lose epically?"

My entire body buzzed from the challenge. "You're pretty cocky for someone who's as eager for this as I am." I ticked my chin at his equally large bulge.

"I'm very cocky, as you well know." He waggled his eyebrows.

"I am quite aware. Do you really think this is a good idea?" I asked, the last of my hesitation warring with my growing desire to toss him down and show him exactly what sex with me could be like.

"No," he said simply. "But at this point, it can't make anything worse between us."

"True." I paused.

We were both in weird headspaces, and it had been a day . Plus, this was different from the other times we'd hooked up. This was a deliberate choice.

The woods outside, Ben's party, even what happened at my parents' house, had been reactionary. We hadn't talked about it or negotiated things. We'd gotten swept up in the moment, and it happened.

This was different, but I was finding it hard to care.

"I don't know how to do this," I said to explain my hesitation.

"Really?" He gave me an appraising look. "It's sex, not calculus. Do I need to worry that this challenge will be too easy to win if you're that unsure of your skills?"

I pinned him with a look as my blood thrummed in my veins and adrenaline poured into my system. "I didn't mean it like that. I meant all the talking and deciding. Even you have to admit it's weird."

"It is." Bas dragged his teeth over his lower lip and slid his appreciative gaze down my body. "This is so fucked up, but you look good in my clothes. Seeing you in one of my old band hoodies…" His eyes glittered with something that could be playfulness. "I've never fucked a groupie before."

"I'm not your groupie," I said before I fully processed what he'd said. "Wait, you haven't? But I thought…"

"What?" His heated gaze cooled. "That I'm a giant manwhore, so of course I fucked around. Or are you calling me a liar?"

"No. Of course not. I didn't mean it like that. I just meant you toured for years. You've been in bands since we were fourteen. It just seemed likely that you had." I paused, taking in his serious expression and the hurt in his gaze. "You haven't?"

He shook his head and chewed on his lower lip.

"So are you going to pretend I'm one of your adoring fans while you fuck me?" I taunted, needing to get back to what was familiar.

Learning stuff about Sebastian's personal life and past was fucking with me. It was erasing the image I'd had of him for all these years, and I wasn't sure I was ready for that.

"I might." He grinned, his usual confidence slipping back into place. "Maybe I'll make you keep it on. Watch you come all over my logo." He huffed out a laugh and shook his head like he couldn't believe what he'd just said. "It's so insane that's hot to me. It wouldn't be if it was anyone else except you."

Another of those weird flutters exploded in my chest and stomach, like nerves mixed with anticipation.

"But yeah." He cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable all of a sudden. "You wanna be my groupie tonight?"

"Hard pass."

He laughed and slid one hand under his hoodie to rub his stomach. The move wasn't especially sensual, but my body was on high alert, and my dick pulsed in my borrowed briefs. Thank fuck he was as hard as me, otherwise I'd never live this down.

"So, are we going to do this? Or are we going to keep talking about it?" he asked, some of his bravado slipping, but it was back a second later.

I looked around, my body tight with anticipation as my mind screamed that this was a terrible idea.

We didn't have many options. Just the oversized couch with its extra-wide cushions and long sides that could accommodate two grown men, the hardwood floor, or the kitchen table.

We could go upstairs, but that would mean fucking in a bed, and that felt too intimate. The couch would have to do.

"Cat got your tongue, Miller?" Bas baited me. "It's almost like you don't want a chance at my ass."

"You know I do." I pushed back a lock of hair that had fallen over my forehead. "Just figuring out the perfect spot to take you apart and make you scream my name."

"Then do it." He held out his arms like he was surrendering. "Come on, Jess. Come try and claim your prize."

His tone was light, and his body language was as cocksure as ever, but something in his eyes was off.

Was this as weird for him as it was for me?

Or was I the only one making this a thing? Was I so in my own head that I couldn't see this for what it was?

Like he'd said, it was sex, not calculus. It didn't have to be complicated.

One more time so we could get it out of our systems for good.

"Is that a challenge?" I asked, my blood thrumming in my veins as I finally let go of my hesitation.

"Maybe." He dropped his arms. "What are you going to do about it?"

I stalked toward him on instinct and not because of any conscious choice.

He grinned and stayed still, his eyes tracking me as I closed the distance between us and grabbed the front of his sweater.

Instead of yanking him closer, I used my hold to push him backward.

He let out a little yelp of surprise and stumbled, one arm flailing and the other grabbing my wrist in a death grip.

Before he could fall, I used our combined momentum to swing him toward the couch.

He fell onto it with a curse, sinking into the soft cushions with another surprised sound.

I was on top of him before he could even think about trying to get up, covering his body with mine and pinning him down.

"Jesus." He stared up at me, his shocked expression only adding to my desire.

It wasn't often I got one up on him. I was taking the W.

"That's what you call me." I pressed my crotch against his, pushing him even deeper into the couch.

"Ungh," he grunted, his eyes rolling back slightly. "Cheater."

"How is this cheating?" I shifted a bit, slotting our cocks together properly, then rolled my hips.

"Not sure, but it is." He let out a low groan and arched his back, pressing into my touch.

Using my arms to cage him in, I frotted against him, keeping my gaze locked on his so I could watch every single second of his pleasure.

Sebastian never hid his reactions, not from me, and I loved watching his expression change from defiant and full of heat to needy, almost desperate. It made me feel powerful, and that was nearly as hot as knowing I was getting him off.

"You're in for a crazy ride if you think this is cheating." I shifted so my knees were on the cushions next to his hips, giving me a better angle over him.

Thank fuck the couch was oversized, and the two of us fit on it with no problem. It would have been a tight fit on a normal-sized couch.

He gripped my hips hard and tried to throw me off him, but all he managed to do was buck up into my crotch a few times since the couch was too soft to give him any sort of leverage.

"Give up?" I asked.

"Not a chance."

"Suit yourself."

My heart rate picked up as he wiggled under me and clawed at my arms.

The soft pants and grunts falling from his lips, the flush on his cheeks, and the slightly glassy look in his eyes were turning me on like nothing else. Knowing he was at my mercy was so damn sexy, but what was threatening to send me over the edge was how he wasn't fighting me. Not really.

He was letting me manhandle him, and he was enjoying it as much as I was.

"Why is this so damn hot?" I asked, unable to tear my gaze from his flushed face.

"No clue." He stopped struggling and lay passively. "Guess we're just a couple of perverts."

"Guess so." I dropped my chest on his, enjoying having him under me. "You bring out the worst in me."

"Right back atcha, sweetheart." He dragged his teeth over his full lower lip. "So, are you just going to use me as a body pillow? Or are you going to do something about these?" He bumped his cock against mine.

"I will. In due time."

He rolled his eyes and opened his mouth like he was going to say something.

I cut him off with a kiss.

The entire world quieted for the briefest of moments when our lips touched. The voice in my head listing all the reasons we shouldn't do this shut up, and all the tension in my body bled out of me in an instant, leaving behind a sense of calm.

Even the rain and the fire went silent as Bas slotted our mouths together and kissed me back, twining his seeking tongue with mine.

I'd intended it to be a hard and hot kiss. Just enough to shut him up and scramble his brain a bit.

I wasn't prepared for the way he melted under me, his kiss sweet and almost hesitant.

Every plan I had flew right out the giant wall of windows as I sank into the kiss, slowing it down even more.

Bas moaned softly and slid his hands under the bottom of my hoodie, gently teasing the skin right over my waistband.

This was different than I'd planned, but so damn amazing I couldn't think about anything other than how much I wanted to not only get my prize, but rock Bas's world before I got my dick in him.

Last time he'd turned me into a blubbering mess who'd come on his cock. This time I was going to make sure he was the one who was coming all over himself.

Or deep in me.

Slowly, I rocked over him. Not hard, just a soft shift so our bodies slid together as we kissed. Like the waves on calm seas. He sighed and lightly scratched his nails over my back.

I liked kissing him.

Loved feeling the changes in his breathing and hearing the little pleasure sounds he made.

But most of all, I loved that he was letting me have control.

Switching things up like this was probably the worst idea ever, but whatever. Bad ideas were pretty much the only ones we had.

Before I could get lost in his kisses, I slid one hand under the bottom of his hoodie and traced my fingers over the silky skin of his stomach. He moaned, and I slid it between our bodies to cup his cock over the soft material of his sweats.

"You want my mouth?" I asked.

He pressed into my touch and lightly bit my lower lip, pulling on it in a way that sent zings of pleasure through me. He let go of it with a low chuckle and soothed my stinging flesh with his tongue. "What do you think?"

I worked my hand under his clothes and gripped his shaft. He was rock hard, his skin already slick with precum. "I think you're going to lose."

"Wishful thinking." He gripped my ass and dug his fingers into my flesh. "And you're doing a lot of talking for someone who wants to blow me so bad."

"You never asked for my mouth." I let go of his dick and pulled my hand free. "Makes me think you don't want it."

"Asshole." He glared up at me, but there was no real heat behind it.

"You say this like it's a new development." I slid my hand back under his clothes and rubbed his length. "Do you want my mouth? If so, you need to ask nicely."