Chapter 3

3

Nick

Ilike sex. I like to touch. I’m not ashamed of that, and I don’t understand when others are. Humans are designed to need each other. We aren’t meant to live in solitude.

I settle back on my bed, sitting against my headboard with pillows behind me, and Joey leaning against my chest. The Amazing Spider-Man is playing on my TV at the foot of my bed while my hand is inside the neck of his hoodie, stroking his skin.

Joey scoots up, laying his head on my shoulder, and my free hand moves to his waist to play with the exposed skin. I run my fingers through the brown hair of his happy trail and caress the skin between his hip bones.

I’m zoned out, watching the movie, the movements of my hands a comforting repetitive motion I lose track of, so it takes me a while to realize Joey keeps shifting and isn’t relaxed.

Leaning my cheek against his hair, I speak quietly in his ear. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re driving me nuts,” he grits out and grabs my wrist.

I finally tear my eyes away from the movie and glance down at him. There’s a hard ridge in his jeans that makes my mouth water. I want another taste of him.

“I’m gonna make you feel good,” I groan into his ear and reach for the button on his jeans. It gives easily, and I reach inside, grazing over his straining cock to cup his balls and roll them around with my fingers.

Joey moans and turns his face into my neck while his hips rock against my hand. His instinctual movements are sexy as hell. The way he moves because he just can’t keep still, the way his breathing hitches, and the sounds . . . holy fuck, the sounds. I’ve never been with a guy who makes so much noise. I didn’t know I liked it so much.

He bites my neck and moans with my skin between his teeth, sending a vibration through me.

“Fuck,” I groan, wrapping my hand around his cock and pulling it from his jeans. I widen my legs to give him more room to spread his, but he doesn’t take my hint. “Open up.”

Joey bends his knees and lets them fall open. I love the way he listens, just submits to what I want without question. He’s perfect for me.

“Such a good boy.” His dick throbs at my words, and I smile. Finding out what makes him tick is fun. I tighten my grip on him, stroking him slow but hard to drive him a little crazy.

“Please,” he whines, that baby talk coming out that gets me hard as fuck.

“Hang on, baby.” I release him to grab the lube and chuckle when he protests. He’s so needy for me. What the hell kind of partners has he been with that couldn’t figure him out? Did they not care, or did he just not tell them what he needed?

I dribble some lube down his shaft and get him slicked up. He thrusts into my hand, his body moving in a rolling wave. His dick pulses as that innocent voice comes out again, desperate to come.

“Don’t stop,” he begs into my neck. His fingers dig into my arms as he holds on. “Please.”

“Come for me, baby,” I demand and pull his sweatshirt up to expose his clenched abs. “Give it to me. I want to see how much you want it.”

Joey’s back arches, and cum shoots out onto his stomach as he shudders and pulses against my palm. It only takes a few strokes for him to go limp in my lap, panting and sweaty. I can’t help but play with his cum on his skin, dragging my fingers through it and spreading it around like I’m fingerpainting.

“I don’t understand it.” Joey’s voice is almost a whisper.

“Understand what?” I lift my fingers to my mouth and lick him off my skin.

Joey looks at me, his head turning so he can watch. “Why it’s different with you.”

I release my fingers with a pop and lean down to kiss him. I want him to taste himself on my tongue. When he moans, I ache. I hold on to his jaw to keep him still and kiss him deeply, exploring his mouth and taking my time. It’s not frenzied like our others have been. It’s hot, sure, but it’s more than that. I’ve never kissed a guy like this.

The last time someone meant something to me, it didn’t end well. This guy is either going to be the best or worst thing to ever happen to me. I’m equally afraid of both.

We explore all the dark corners of each other’s mouths, slow and deep, sharing air and learning who we are through our senses. He’s a little shy when it comes to it, but I think that’s because of his experiences. He smells like the ice rink and man and body wash. I don’t know him in any sense other than the physical, but I already need him.

I don’t know how long we kiss, but my lips are sore and chafed when we break apart.

His lips are swollen when he looks up at me, a sheepish expression on his face.

“I should clean up,” he says and starts to sit up, but I tell him to wait and climb out from underneath him. “I’ll do it.” I grab two washrags, get one wet, and come back to him. He looks good in my bed.

Joey reaches for the rag, but I push his hand out of the way and clean his skin for him, then dry him off. He gets himself tucked away and fixes his clothes while I drop the dirty towels in the laundry.

He’s sitting up, feet on the floor, looking uncomfortable as he pulls on his shoes so I pull on my sweats too.

“You don’t have to leave.” I shove my hands in the pockets and lean against the foot of the bed. A blush creeps up his neck, and it’s fucking adorable. I know it’s a stereotype to assume all jocks are dominant, bold, aggressive, dumbasses, but I’ve never met an athlete as soft as Joey.

Not soft like wimpy or weak, but he’s not in your face. He tends to be submissive, at least with me, and it’s caught me off guard. I definitely want to watch him on the ice, see what he’s like. He’s the captain of the team so he has to have a dominant streak in there somewhere.

“I should go.” Joey doesn’t meet my eyes when he stands. “I’ll see you around.” He does some kind of weird half-shrug thing and walks past me.

“Hey, this doesn’t have to be awkward,” I turn and say to his back. “I would like to be your friend.”

He stops with his hand on the doorknob and sighs so heavily his shoulders drop.

“You’re not like anyone else,” he says to the door. “And that scares the shit out of me.”

Then he’s gone.

I don’t know what to do with that, and it bugs me. He’s not like anyone else either, but he didn’t even give me a chance to tell him that. He ran. Is that what he does instead of communicating? Or is this too new, and he’s not comfortable yet?

I pace my room for over an hour, going over it in my head. I’m not one to wait when a conversation needs to happen. Rip the Band-Aid off and get it over with. Deal with the problem head-on.

I hate this waiting shit.

Frustrated with myself, I grab my phone and call my best friend and former foster brother, Brent.

It rings a few times before his face appears on the screen.

“Hey, man, what’s up? Must be getting laid since I don’t have twelve new memes or TikToks on my phone.” He shoves a bite of pizza in his mouth and talks around it. “Bad lay? It’s still early.”

“Would you shut the fuck up?” I scrub a hand down my face, and he snorts. He knows I’m not mad at him. “I’m in a situation.”

Brent stops shoving food into his face to look at me. I have his attention now. “What kind of situation?” He eyes me with suspicion.

“Would you believe⁠—”

“No.”

“You didn’t even let me finish!” I bark back at him.

“You know exactly what you did, out with it.” He takes a drink of what looks like red Gatorade and gives me the hand motion to continue.

I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. “Okay, here it goes. I hooked up with a guy at a bar last night. This morning, I ran into him at the on-campus gym, and he’s a hockey player for Darby U. I told him to stop by if he felt the need. He did. We fucked around a bit, but it got weird and not the sexy kind of kinky weird.”

I really have Brent’s attention now. I don’t think he’s even blinking.

“He was obviously into it. I asked him about edging⁠—”

“Probably don’t need to know the specifics, dude.”

“—and he goes limp. Like he’s done.” I get up to pace my room again. “He says something about it being hard to get off, then he starts sucking my dick and runs.”

“To clarify, he did not get off?” Brent asks.

“Nope.” I run my hand through my hair. “I tell him to come back, let’s just hang out or whatever, watch a movie. Well, halfway through The Amazing Spider-Man, he’s hard. I get him off, it’s hot as fuck, we make out for, I don’t know, an hour or more? Then he leaves. On his way out, he says I’m different and that scares him.”

I hate this uncertainty. It makes me fucking edgy.

“What the hell does that mean? I should go make him talk to me, right?”

“Uh, no.” Brent scoffs like I’m a dumbass. “Sounds like he needs some space. You know, that thing you aren’t good at? Let the guy breathe.”

“Fuck you!” I snap. I’m so keyed up I can’t sit still. I need to do something.

Brent laughs. “Seriously. Sounds like the guy has some baggage, and you need to tread carefully, or you’ll scare him off. You aren’t exactly baggage-free yourself.”

“Fuck you, I let my baggage go.”

He nods but it’s sarcastic. “Yeah? You’ve dated a lot since Emma?”

The darkness that name brings is heavy but I’ve become a master at burying her memory in a box.

“I could convince him his baggage doesn’t matter,” I throw back.

“Yeah? Had a lot of deep convos in between the fucking and blowjobs? He trusts you enough to be vulnerable?”

“What the hell do you know about dating guys? You’ve never done it.”

He rolls his eyes. “People are people. Treat them with respect, you asshole.”

I drop my head back on my shoulders and groan. “I hate you.”

“Yeah, sure you do. When you’re getting laid by this guy you’re already obsessing over in less than a week, you can thank me.” The fucker hangs up on me, and I chuck my phone on the bed. What a little fuckhead.