Chapter 10

TEN

When I went to collect Briar from his room for our date, he wasn't wearing a skirt and heels. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't disappointed just for a second. But I got it. It was one thing to talk a big game and another to put yourself out there in a college town when you were trying to make a fresh start.

Besides, Briar was gorgeous. My breath caught as I took in the sight of him. His hair was gelled into a choppy, asymmetrical style that was somehow both punk and pretty, and he was wearing a long knitted purple sweater. The wide neckline left one shoulder exposed, and it was tied up in the opposite corner at the hem, pulling the edge up to show off his flat stomach and elegant thighs encased in skintight black jeans. His wrists were adorned with a pair of leather cuffs. A pair of sparkling purple Converse completed the outfit. He was wearing eyeliner, mascara, and eyeshadow, and his perfectly polished nails matched his shoes and sweater. He straddled the line between femme and flirty perfectly, and I was here for it.

"Wow," I said, looking him up and down. I couldn't seem to stop looking. "Just, wow."

"You like it?" he asked, sounding more uncertain than I would have expected after the way he'd strutted during the candy drive. But I guess he was able to pass it off as being part of his pledging then. Now it was just him, showing me who he was.

"Liking it doesn't even come close. You're breathtaking," I said. "It's like you're a fae prince or something, and I'm under your spell. I mean, you could ask me for my firstborn right now, and I'd agree on the spot."

His face split into a pleased smile. "Thanks. I'll settle for dinner, though."

"Good, because I don't have a firstborn."

He huffed out a laugh, then turned his attention onto me. I did my best not to fidget under the weight of his gaze. I'd spent an hour trying on different outfits earlier before Scout had walked past my door, pausing when he saw the pile of discarded clothing on my bed. He'd rolled his eyes, stepped inside, and plucked a pale blue shirt and a pair of tan chinos out of the pile and thrust them at me. Then he'd opened my closet and pulled out a dark blue blazer, saying, "Wear this. Trust me."

And damned if he hadn't been right because Briar's eyes grew dark and hungry. "You look pretty killer yourself."

"Thanks." A wave of pleasure washed over me at the compliment, and I couldn't keep the dumb grin off my face. I did look killer. I'd checked in the mirror half a dozen times just to be sure because I wanted Briar to know I was all in for this date.

When we got to Cafe Meow, the hostess seated us in one of the nice private booths with a smile and gave us our menus. Once she'd left, we sat awkwardly staring at each other while I panicked and tried to remember how dating worked.

It wasn't that the dynamic was different with Briar than it would have been with a girl, exactly—that was some bullshit outdated thinking right there. When I took a girl on a date, I knew exactly what to do. I opened doors for her and helped her with her coat if it was winter, and I paid at the end. And like, I was going to do the same for Briar—not because he was femme but because I'd invited him on this date. That was how it worked. But the other stuff—the small conversation stuff—felt weirdly difficult. I already knew about his studies and his plan to get into law school because I'd asked all that shit when I was his pledge master. And I already knew what movies and shit he liked because we'd hung out as brothers and now we also lived in the same house. And I sure as shit knew that "So, tell me about your family" would be about as dangerous and messy as tap-dancing into a minefield. So, I really didn't have much to draw on.

"Marty says the fettuccine carbonara here is amazing," I said, clinging to the menu like it was a life preserver and I was a drowning man.

"I once saw Marty eat a donut he found under the couch." Briar raised his eyebrows. "So I'll take that with a grain of salt, I think."

"I dunno. Marty has pretty solid taste," I said.

"Are we talking about the same Marty? The one with shirts that should only be worn on cruise ships by eighty-year-old men?"

I snorted. "Fair. But he also likes you, and obviously you're amazing, so my point stands."

Briar wrinkled his nose, like he wasn't sure whether Marty's approval was something he should be pleased about or not. He fiddled with his napkin before asking, "So, why did you pick me to be in Alpha Tau? I'm not exactly conventional fraternity material."

I wasn't prepared for the question, but my mamma didn't raise a fool, and I sure as shit wasn't going to ruin a promising first date by telling him Trey had made me choose him. Instead, after a moment's consideration, I said, "Would you believe me if I said it's because you didn't try to fit in? Like, you could have showed up all slicked back and buttoned down, but you chose to be the real you—even if you did bury yourself in that hoodie and scowl. You were honest. Plus, Squirrel really likes you."

Some of the tension in his frame eased, and he gave a wry smile. "Note to self—the balance of power at Alpha Tau is held by a whippet."

I laughed. "Probably. Don't let Trey hear you say that, though."

Briar bit his lip before blurting out, "I am glad you chose me. And this…this is nice. Being on a date with you, I mean." He gave a one-shouldered shrug, the corners of his mouth curving up and a blush creeping across his cheeks, like he was embarrassed at admitting to enjoying himself with me. He looked all kinds of adorable with his face flushed pink, and it made heat pool in my belly. I couldn't wait to take him home and make him blush for other, filthier reasons.

Shit. I was getting a boner, and we hadn't even ordered yet. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I couldn't remember anyone else ever affecting me like this. I wasn't sure if I was gayer than I'd realized, or if it was Briar's apparent delicacy combined with his dominant streak that made my dick hard. In the end, I decided it didn't matter. The important thing was that Briar did it for me—on every level.

He was the total package.

I didn't realize I'd been staring until Briar licked his perfectly glossed lips and said, "See something you like?"

"Well, yeah," I said, still staring.

He sat back in his chair and grinned, running a hand through his hair. "I meant the menu, but I'll take it."

It was my turn to blush. I cleared my throat. "Sorry. You're just… so fucking pretty, you know?"

Briar's face lit up with a thousand-watt smile, and yeah, I was so gone on this guy.

I cleared my throat again. "What about you?"

"Oh yeah, I see something I like too," he said, eyes dancing. "And after dinner, I'm gonna get it."

I grinned, anticipation curling low in my gut. "What if I'm not the kind of boy who puts out on the first date?"

Briar raised one eyebrow. "Casey. Please. We both know you're that kind of boy. Besides, I can be very persuasive."

I didn't doubt it for a second.

We were interrupted by the server coming back to our table. We both ordered the steak and a couple glasses of sweet tea. "Hey, do you want to split a side of asparagus?" I asked.

"No I don't, and you don't want any either," Briar said.

"But I like asparagus."

Briar rolled his eyes and quickly grabbed his phone and started texting.

A moment later, my phone pinged.

Do you like asparagus more than you like getting your dick sucked?

It took a second for the penny to drop, but when it did, my face flamed.My cock twitched, and I swallowed convulsively, my throat suddenly dry as I pictured Briar on his knees. I managed to croak out, "No sides, thanks."

The server left, and Briar let out a low laugh. "I can't believe I had to connect those dots for you. You're such a baby gay."

"Jesus, Briar." A breath escaped me. "Are you trying to make me sit through dinner with a stiff dick?"

"Pretty much, yeah," Briar said, grinning.

"Well it's working." I squirmed in my seat, closing my eyes in an effort to will my cock into behaving. So I was caught off guard by the sensation of something sliding up my calf. I froze, my eyes snapping open. I lifted the edge of the tablecloth and glanced down to see one discarded glittering Converse lying on its side and one elegant, stocking-clad foot gliding up toward my knee.

Oh fuck.

"Wanna play footsies?" Briar asked. His tone was light, but he was grinning like a shark.

I could have pulled my legs back under my chair, sure. But I liked this sassy, self-assured Briar, and I wanted to see more of him. Plus, I didn't think my dick had ever gotten hard so fast in my life. So I stayed where I was and let my knees fall slightly open. "Do your worst," I said, attempting to sound nonchalant—which, it turned out, was a dumb move because I hadn't accounted for two things.

Firstly, Briar was a tease.

And secondly, he was a bendy little fuck, who had no problem sliding down in his seat and settling his foot against my hard dick, flexing the sole so that he was basically giving me a foot job under cover of the tablecloth. I made a sound that if it wasn't quite a whine sure as hell shared a zip code with one.

Briar gave me a wide smile full of teeth and promise and slid his foot down so he was massaging my balls. The gentle, persistent pressure had me ready to come right there, and I couldn't help it—I groaned loudly enough that the couple at the next table glanced over. Briar stilled his foot, and I was torn between relief and disappointment.

Then he licked his lips, slid his foot all the way down my leg, and murmured in a low voice, "Do you like it when I do bad things to you in public, Casey?"

And yeah, it turned out I did.

He sat up straight and removed his foot completely, and I was confused for a second, but then the server appeared with our meals. Briar blinked innocently as he thanked her like he hadn't just teased me to the edge of orgasm, the little shit.

I echoed his thanks. The meal was good, but I could have been eating one of Marty's couch donuts for all I cared, too caught up in the phantom sensation of Briar's toes curling against my cock. My mind kept circling back around to how bold he was and how bossy—and how much I liked it.

We were quiet as we ate, but it wasn't awkward or anything, and Briar kept shooting me shy glances from under his bangs, so I guessed he was enjoying himself. Still, I couldn't help but ask. "So, how am I doing for my first time dating a guy?"

He bumped his foot against mine under the table and flashed me a smile. "It's really nice," he said, without a trace of sarcasm.

"Thanks." The reassurance made me breathe a little easier.

"It's not epic, though."

I stopped with my fork halfway to my mouth. "It's not?"

Briar licked his lips and leaned forward, his eyes dark and hungry as his gaze locked on mine. "Not yet." His voice was husky in a way that sent a shiver down my spine and had my dick taking notice, even before he said, "That'll be when I drag you home and make you come so hard you forget your own name."

Holy shit.

And then he sat back primly and set the cutlery together in the center of his empty plate. He nodded at my few remaining fries and said, "So, are we done here?"

"We're done," I said and waved frantically for the check.

After I texted Marty,he had done me a solid and cleared out of our room, taking Squirrel with him, before Briar and I got back to Fraternity Row. Showing Briar up to my room felt as though it was a big step somehow. Like maybe one of the guys we passed downstairs when we got back was going to make it into a huge deal or something. They didn't. And why would they? For all they knew, I was inviting Briar up to my room to give him my English notes. Well, apart from the fact that Briar had obviously dressed up for the occasion, and I was pretty sure I resembled a cartoon character who'd taken a frying pan to the face whenever I looked at him—twittering birds circling my head and all.

Briar was just gorgeous. I ran out of words in my head when I tried to think of them. Just... whatever the whole package was, he had it, you know? And it wasn't only his looks. I wanted to figure out what made him tick. I wanted him to feel like he could open up to me. There was something about the way he both hid and revealed parts of himself every time he spoke, and even the way he blew hot and cold, that pulled me in.

There was no blowing cold tonight.

Hell, no.

The second we were inside my room, Briar pushed me so I landed in a sideways sprawl on my bed. Then, while I was trying to catch the breath he'd knocked out of me, he prowled forward and stood between my knees. Chewed on the end of his fingertip and smirked down at me, the fucking tease. I didn't dare move, my heart pounding in my chest as I waited for him to do something—anything.

After watching me for what could have been seconds or hours, he leaned forward and gave my shoulders a gentle shove. I guessed he wanted me to move, and I obeyed without question, shuffling my way to the center of the bed.

"Good boy," he said, making my insides curl with unexpected pleasure. While I was still processing that, he kicked off his sneakers and grabbed the hem of his sweater and drew it over his head, exposing a lean, pale chest with tight rosy nipples that had my half-hard dick filling completely. Then he shimmied out of his jeans and underwear, leaving him standing in nothing but a pair of sheer black thigh-high stockings. Biting his bottom lip, he placed one hand on his hip as if he were a model, or perhaps putting himself on display for my approval.

Maybe he was.

I propped myself on my elbows so I could see him properly, and my mouth fell open.

Holy shit.

The contrast of sheer dark stockings against Briar's milky white skin was hotter than it had any right to be. Briar was all long lines and elegance, and the sight of him had my mouth watering. His slim cock was hard, flushed dark pink with precum pearling at the head, and who knew that even his dick would be pretty?

Heat gathered low in my gut, and my own cock throbbed, straining against the zipper of my pants. "Fuck, Briar. You're gorgeous."

He gave a pleased smile, then turned and, his feet shoulder width apart, bent at the waist. It was a hell of a view, and it took me a moment to realize he was fishing in the pocket of his discarded jeans. Then he straightened and faced me, holding a tube of lip gloss, and applied a fresh coat that made his lips sparkle and shimmer. He gave me a coy smile. "What? A boy can't look his best when he sucks a dick?"

I let out a low groan. Briar was going to be the death of me.

He slid onto the bed and trailed a fingertip down my chest before smoothing his palm over the bulge in my pants. My cock throbbed, and I arched up into his touch. He grinned and reached down and unbuttoned my shirt, leaving my chest bare. Then he undid my fly, deftly sliding his hands under my ass and urging my hips upward. I obeyed, using the one working brain cell that wasn't focused on how good Briar touching me felt to kick off my shoes. They hit the ground with a dull thud as Briar yanked my chinos and boxers down and off, leaving my lower half bare.

He straddled my thighs, pinning me in place as he studied me closely, his gaze settling on my erection.

I fought the urge to cover myself with my hands or do something dumb like ask if he liked what he saw. I had a pretty much standard-issue dick, so I couldn't see why he wouldn't, but it wasn't as though I had another one to offer him if he didn't.

He licked his lips and said, "Nice."

A tightness in my chest that I hadn't been aware of eased. "Thanks." I let out a shaky laugh. "I grew it myself."

My laugh cut off when he wrapped a hand around my shaft. His skin was soft, but his grip was firm, and when he started stroking my cock in a lazy rhythm, a whimper escaped me.

Briar let out a soft laugh of his own. "Not that kind of boy, huh?"

I opened my mouth to reply, but the words got stuck in my throat when Briar pushed my knees apart and settled between them. He parted those candy-pink lips and wrapped them around the head of my cock.

My back arched, a jolt of pleasure running through me. I'd had blow jobs before, but they were nothing like this. Briar teased expertly around the head with the tip of his tongue, and the velvet heat massaging my shaft as he took more of me into his mouth had me gasping for breath. He splayed one hand over my stomach, holding me in place as he bobbed and sucked and drove me slowly insane. I squirmed under the weight of his hand, my fingers scrabbling desperately at the fabric of my comforter, but I couldn't do anything but lay there and take whatever he dished out—and I fucking loved it.

Briar pulled off and licked a wide stripe up my dick before blowing gently against the damp skin, the contrast sending a shudder rippling through me. My cock pulsed, leaking precum, and he swiped his thumb over the head and licked it clean as he grinned at me, eyes flashing. Then he took his hand off my stomach and reached out, grabbing my hand and guiding it up to his hair. His voice was hoarse when he said, "Go on. Fuck my throat."

Holy fuck.

His spine curved into a low arch as he sank down, setting both hands on my thighs and swallowing around my cock. I'd never seen anything prettier.

I rolled my hips and fucked up into his mouth like he'd told me to, not holding back. I pulled instinctively on his hair, and Briar let out a low, pleased groan. Heat raced through my veins, and my arousal coiled tight in my gut at the wet sounds Briar made as he sucked my cock. My dick was heavy with the urge to come, and I tugged harder on Briar's hair in warning.

He didn't pull away but instead hummed around my aching length, and that was all it took for my orgasm to roll over me like a freight train. Everything was reduced to heat and pleasure thundering through me, reaching right down into my bones.

It took a minute before I became aware that someone was making low, desperate noises, and a moment more before I realized that someone was me. Briar swallowed and sucked, cleaning my softening cock with little kitten licks, only stopping when I shuddered, oversensitive.

He pulled off and shimmied up the bed, where he sprawled on top of me. I blinked up as he grinned and asked, "What's your name?"

"No clue," I mumbled, still coming down from what I would forever think of as a dolphin high, thanks to Marty.

His grin widened. "Good."

I draped an arm over his back, my fingers skating over soft, cool skin. His erection was a line of heat against the crease of my thigh, and I had a sudden urge to taste it. I rolled us over, enjoying the indignant squawk Briar made when his back hit the mattress. We both knew he was in charge here, but that didn't mean I couldn't at least pretend to have the upper hand sometimes.

Briar arched an eyebrow at me. "What are you doing?"

I drew a breath. "It's my turn."

He narrowed his eyes. "You don't have to say it like you're getting a shot. Like, wow, you're doing me such a big favor or something."

Prickly, argumentative Briar was back. And usually I liked that guy but not right now.

"Shut up, Briar," I said, "and let me suck your dick."

And he shut up and let me suck his dick.