18. Lucas

Ican't tear my eyes away from Jase's face. My fingertips long to trace the outline of his mouth, to graze his stubbled jawline, to fist his hair while I kiss him long and hard?—

"Lucas, I'm taking the kids for ice cream." Krista's voice registers in the deep recesses of my brain, muffled like her words can't clearly penetrate the bubble of lust consuming my attention.

The kids yell their goodbyes.

The front door slams.

We're alone.

"Don't. Go."

My voice is tight, barely above a whisper, but the need is loud and clear. My grip on him tightens.

"I have to." Jase sucks in a breath but doesn't pull away.

I close the space between us, forcing his back against the wall.

"If I don't, then I'll?—"

"What?" I rasp. "What will you do?"

The tension in the air is so thick, I can lance it with a knife. My pulse jumps up in my throat, hammering hard. I breathe him in, the fresh scent of his cologne filling my lungs and clouding my mind with pent-up desire.

"This." And suddenly, it's my back against the wall. Jase's hands grip the sides of my face and he crushes his lips against mine.

Ohhh, fuck.

It's not soft and gentle. It's demanding, hot, and intense. There's desperation in the way his tongue plunders my mouth, coiling with mine, scorching heat snaking the entire length of my body. Sparks of electricity crackle as every cell fires from the sudden explosion of carnal lust coursing through me.

This is the kind of kiss that has effectively ruined every other kiss I've ever had, and any one I might have in the future.

He presses into my chest, grinding his thick cock against mine. My knees buckle, weakening more and more with every dip of his tongue, every nip of his teeth. I dig into his back, his ripped muscles tensing and tightening under the pads of my fingertips.

He devours me like a voracious predator who needs food to survive and I'm dinner. Our teeth crack as we attack each other's mouths with a primal ferocity that makes my skin prickle with yearning. I grab his hair and tug it, just like I've always fantasized about doing. I smile when the moan slips through his lips, my own cock swelling against the fabric of my pants.

My God, he's everything.

And he wants me just as badly as I want him.

A sound registers, somewhere far away, far outside the blissful cloud surrounding us. The front door opens and footsteps click against the floor in the foyer. Jase's arms drop to his sides and he jumps backward, out of sight. Sweeping a hand through his hair, he looks in every direction but mine.

But I can't look anywhere else but at him.

His flushed face. The vein throbbing in his neck. His lips, so swollen from that kiss… the one he initiated.

"Hey, it's only me," Krista calls out. "I forgot my wallet. See you later!"

The door slams closed again.

"I'm gonna go?—"

"Fuck no, you're not going anywhere." I reach out and fist his shirt, drawing him near.

He doesn't pull away.

But he still can't look at me.

So I cup his chin and force his face forward. His blue eyes are alight with conflict and shame, and it pisses me the fuck off.

"Why did you do that?" I ask, loosening my grip on his face.

"It was wrong. I shouldn't have… I didn't mean to…" His jaw tightens. "You have to let me go."

"But you really don't want that, do you?" My voice softens. "Jase, just tell me the truth. Tell me you feel the same things I do."

He shakes his head. "It doesn't matter what I feel. This isn't who I am."

"Isn't it, though? The other night, when those guys started with us, you lost your shit because deep down you knew they were talking about you, right? And it made you angry."

He closes his hand over mine and peels it off his shirt. "Don't try to psychoanalyze me, Bentley. You have no fucking idea what was going on in my head."

"Then tell me. Stop being such an obstinate asshole and talk to me. I thought we were friends. Or, you know, something close to it. We're stuck together for the next month. Are you going to just shut me out every time things get uncomfortable for you?"

He fits a steely-eyed glare on me. "It's what I do. The only way I can keep nosy motherfuckers from edging into my business."

"So you've reduced me to a nosy motherfucker?" I lift an eyebrow. "That's why you kissed me like that?"

He grabs the sides of his hair, lips twisting into a grimace. "I said it was a mistake."

"Not if you were doing it because of how you feel. Then it wasn't a mistake at all."

"Look, I know all this was probably really easy for you. You said what you needed to say, didn't give a damn how people responded. You live your life your way without any fear of rejection. Like I told you a few nights ago, we're very fucking different. I don't…" He grits his teeth, balling his fingers into tight fists at his sides. "Do this. I've never been with a man before. I don't know how to… how to…"

His voice trails off and he averts his eyes.

"You think I don't fear rejection?" I place a hand against his chest, his heart thumping out of control against my palm. "You're wrong. So dead wrong." After a pause, I move closer, his eyes moving back toward my face. "I've been afraid of it ever since I kissed you outside the bar the other night. Ever since I knew for sure what I was feeling for you. If you run away now…"

My voice trails off.

I don't want to say the words because I'm teetering over the edge right now. I was right all along, but that doesn't mean he wants to hear it.

Wants to hear it, can stand to hear it.

What the hell ever.

All I know is that he's not convinced, probably for a whole lot of reasons.

A lump lodges in the back of my throat.

I can't let him go.

"You might be able to walk away," I say in a husky voice, moving my hand to the back of his neck. "But I can't watch you go. Don't make me have to do that."

I grab his hair, winding my fingers into the messy strands. With the force of a jackhammer, my heart pounds against my chest. His eyes darken, eyelids half-hooded, a glimmer of hope flickering like a candle in a deep blue sea of uncertainty.

When I attack his lips, he wraps his arms around me and digs his fingers into my spine. Sparks shoot straight to my dick under his commanding touch. I pull open his shirt and slide it off his broad shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. He bites down hard on my lower lip and fuck me, it feels so good, so right.

Just like I always imagined.

With trembling fingers, I fumble with his belt buckle. When I finally yank it off, I unbutton his pants and slide them and his boxer briefs below his ass.

He kisses me harder, deeper, like he knows what's coming next. Adrenaline floods my veins, sending my heart into a frenzied gallop. I grasp the tight globes of his ass, massaging the muscles, before I reach for his cock.

I haven't looked at it yet. But holy fuck, it's massive, throbbing between my fingers as I stroke him. I raise my hand to my mouth, reluctantly breaking away from Jase to sweep my tongue over the palm. With my other hand, I bring his face to mine, capturing his mouth with the kind of ferocity I've never experienced before, only fantasized about.

Because I've never in my life come across a man like Jase Maxwell.

When I take his thick cock in my hand, he moans against my lips. I squeeze him hard, rubbing the shaft up and down, then teasing his slit. Without breaking our kiss or interrupting my hand job, I silently guide him into the living room and back him against the couch.

Only then do I murmur my request against his mouth.

"Sit down."

He sinks onto the couch. I drop to my knees in front of him and shove his pants to his ankles. He doesn't say anything, just watches me. His hair has that just-fucked look because of my crazed grip on him.

I want it to be because of something else.

I drop my gaze to his cock. Long, hard, corded with veins. My mouth waters as I dip my head low to take him in. I tease the tip with my tongue, giving it a few good sucks that make him groan. Then I swallow him down, deep enough to hit the back of my throat. His head falls back on the couch, his gaze searing my insides. I smile, my mouth full of his cock.

He thrusts against my lips, his fingers lost in my hair. He presses the back of my head, forcing me to take him all, to suck him down until his dick is buried at the back of my throat.

My gag reflex kicks in. Not a convenient thing for a gay guy, but right now, I don't give a fuck. I want him to fuck my mouth, to lose himself inside of it, to give me what nobody in the whole world has ever had the privilege of getting.

"Fuck," he mutters, tugging on my hair as I suck him down, dragging my tongue along the underside of his cock.

I cup his balls with one hand, kneading them. My lips clamp down on him, keeping him tight between them. He grinds his hips against my mouth, thrusting faster until a blast of cum hits the back of my throat.

His body spasms, cock jerking. He stills, his hands tangled in my hair. His salty tang fills my mouth fast, trickles of cum streaming from the sides of my mouth.

Holy shit.

I did that.

And he let me. Welcomed it, actually.

Warmth fills me, heat radiating from my core.

I swallow down every drop and slowly pull my mouth away from him, wiping the corners.

I raise my eyes, the smile dying on my lips.

Jase stares at me, his expression a mess of horror and panic.

My heart nose-dives into my shoes. I sit back on my heels.

What the fuck just happened? Wasn't he here with me when I was doing that? When I was making him see fucking stars?

He doesn't waste another second springing up from the couch. He pulls up his pants and tucks himself back inside. His hands shake as he grabs his jacket and puts it on.

Then he turns his back on me and walks to the front door without a word.

I jump up off the floor to follow him. He stops when I put my hand on his shoulder.

"Stay." I keep my voice low, hoping he can't hear the trace of need in my words.

His back stiffens at my touch. "No."

"Seriously? After what just happened?" I grip him tighter. "Why?"

That's when he finally looks at me and fuck, I can't stand to see his face right now. His expression is cold, impassive, impenetrable.

"Because there's no place for me here. There's no place for me anywhere."

Then he shrugs off my hand and walks out of my house.

And, it seems, my life.