Page 42 of Road Trip

“What?” I asked again. I stared at him and he stared at me.

He wrinkled his nose. “Isn’t that why we got a room? So we could fuck?”

“We got a room because it’s our last night!”

“Yeah.” He jutted his chin out in the way that signaled this was about to become an argument if I didn’t tread carefully. “And that means we’re gonna fuck, right?”

“Matt,” I began, and he bridled at the tone of my voice, lifting himself off me. He clambered off the bed, pulling his towel around him and glowering at me. “Matt! Get back here, you dick!”

He glowered again, but he’d turned down the heat of the glare at least a few degrees. “Don’t you want to fuck me? I know you never did anal with Layla.”

“What?” I sat up, jamming a pillow over my junk. “Idowant to, but it’s not a competition! And if it was—” I ignored the bite of guilt for saying it, because I really liked Layla. I just didn’t love her. “If it was, you’d be winning anyway.”

His eyes widened and he looked away briefly before he asked, “So why don’t you want to have sex with me?”

“Matty, I don’t knowhow.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “What?”

“There’s like extra stuff you have to do, and I don’t want to screw it up.” I didn’t know whose face was redder, his or mine. But either one of us could have been used as a traffic signal right now. “I don’t want to do anything that might hurt you.”

His shoulders slumped as the fight went out of him. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” I said softly.

It didn’t bother me how he’d overlooked any forward planning or research we might have to do in order to get to anal—Matt making rash decisions without thinking ahead was pretty much why we were here, after all—but it did bother me that he thought he was competing with Layla. That he’d framed anal just as something he could give me that she hadn’t. Like, sex was supposed to be something betweenus. Layla shouldn’t have even been part of that equation. It bothered me that there was a part of Matt that thought maybe I wasn’t all in, and he had to offer sex as a way to keep me interested.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed and planted my feet on the floor. “Hey, Matt.”

“What?”

He didn’t think it washimI wanted? Guess I was going to have to prove it.

“Drop the towel,” I said. “I want to blow you.”

CHAPTER

FOURTEEN

MATT

172 miles to go

Yuma, AZ

He wasn’t serious. No fucking way was he serious. No way did Jacob want to blow me. Like, I wasn’t a masochist or anything. I wouldn’t be his boyfriend if I didn’t think we could get off together, but I’d figured he’d want to ease into things, especially when it came to getting up close and personal with my dick. But this? Now? No way.

Except even while my brain didn’t believe it, my feet were already closing the distance between us. Because what was the worst that would happen? He was lying and he wasn’t going to blow me? He was already not blowing me, so I wouldn’t be any worse off than before, right? And if hewasn’tlying? Well, shit, there was no way I was going to miss this opportunity by being on the other side of the room if he was serious.

I came to a stop in front of him and dropped the towel, hoping he couldn’t see how much my hands were shaking. He probably didn’t even notice, though, not when my dick was threatening to put his eye out.

“Are you sure you want to—” I began and then almost choked on my tongue because before I could even get the question out,Jacob had leaned forward and licked the head of my dick. I reached out and grabbed his hair instinctively and then forced myself not to rip it from his scalp in my enthusiasm. “I guess that answers that.”

He grinned and looked up at me, then licked his lips. “Salty.”

“Gross,” I lied, and my dick let out a spurt of precum just at the sight of his tongue.

“Nah, it’s okay.” He hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe I like it.”

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