Chapter 25

"Stop fighting me."

Am I fighting? I can barely stand. How can I fight?

The one good thing about a crowded and noisy dance floor is that no one notices I've had an orgasm with all my clothes on, in front of hundreds of people. But the way Beau kept growling, "You're mine," and touching me like I belonged to him—there's only so much a guy can take.

But oh god, this is the opposite of what we came here to do! He's supposed to be focused on other men, not on me!

"Stop it. I can hear you fighting."

I can barely hear myself think. How the hell can he hear my thoughts?

"I'm serious, G." He stares into my eyes with both hands bracketing my face so I can't look away. "I'm serious."

I want to believe him. God in heaven, I want to believe him so fucking bad. But straight best friends don't suddenly turn gay and fall in love with you! They just don't!

"Trust me." His gaze bores into mine like he can imprint an oath onto my heart if only he stares hard enough.

And maybe it works. Or maybe I lose the last of my resolve. Because I give in.

I love him. I always have. I don't want to fight it anymore.

This time, when we kiss, it's different. It's more honest than our previous kisses, more bare. I love him. And I'm done trying to hide it.

"We're going home." Beau doesn't wait for a reply before taking my hand and marching us toward the exit.

Luck or fate or the sex gods are with us because a taxi cab rolls to a stop the second we step out onto the curb and we sail through every green light all the way back to my place. We're at each other the second the elevator doors close and by the time I've unlocked my front door, we're tearing at each other's clothes.

I've never been so hungry for anyone else before. But then, I've never spent twenty-plus years longing for anyone else either. It's only when we land on the bed in a tangle of arms and legs do I realize what we're about to do.

I'm going to have sex—gay, penetrative sex—with my straight best friend, Beau.

"Uh, have you, uh, ever, you know…"

"Had anal sex?" Beau sinks his teeth into my nipple, then soothes it with his tongue when I hiss. "Yeah, women have buttholes too."

"Jesus." I slap my hand over my eyes.

"Pretty sure he also had a butthole." He licks through my treasure trail, then inhales my cock like he's been sucking dick his whole life.

"Jesus Christ!"

He hums and the vibrations travel to my balls, deep into my groin. It hasn't been that long since he made me come on the dance floor so I'm still more sensitive than usual. "Wait, wait, oh god. Hold on."

Beau lets me plop out of his mouth with a grin, then licks a strip along the crease of my hip. It's just like him to be so confident his first time having gay sex, so unassuming and earnestly gung ho.

"Something wrong?" he asks, all innocence as he pushes my knees apart and wedges himself between my thighs.

I look down my body and all I see is his broad shoulders forcing my legs wide, his playful blue eyes locked onto my cock like it's an ice cream cone he's about to devour. I reach for him, brushing my fingers across his forehead and down his nose, threading through his hair. His eyes drift shut and his smile grows soft.

It's on the tip of my tongue to say it. To throw the last traces of caution to the wind and tell him I love him.

Beau's eyes flutter open and when his gaze collides with mine, it takes my breath away.

I don't need to tell him—he already knows. Maybe not in so many words, but things have changed between us tonight. Who am I kidding? They've been changing for the past couple weeks, and we're not the same two people we used to be.

Beau keeps his gaze locked on mine and lowers his head to plant a kiss on my pelvis, then another and another, covering every inch of skin between my left thigh and my right. I drop my hand away and let him take my balls into his mouth, let him slather my perineum with his tongue. When he lifts my legs, I grab the backs of my knees and let him dip lower and lower still.