Page 62 of Lost Boy
“Yeah?”
Fallon nods slowly, and I dart forward, leaning over the guitar on his lap. I claim his mouth eagerly. I can’t get enough of him.
We continue to kiss, and I slip my tongue into his mouth, rolling it against his own. Pulling away, I carefully pick up his guitar and set it on the coffee table, reaching for him next.
“Come here.” He places his hand in mine, and I switch so that I’m sitting on the couch, and Fallon settles onto my lap.
“Mmm,” I moan, nuzzling into his neck and hugging him tight. Strawberries and fresh soap. Drives me fucking wild.
“You showered?” I ask, sucking on his skin delicately, not enough to bruise the flesh and give him a hickey, but enough to make goosebumps sprout across his soft skin. No hickeys allowed in this house. Sofie or Georgie would call us out in a second.
“Yeah. I did a lot of things while you were asleep. I was writing. Thinking a lot too.”
“Thinking about. . .” I’m distracted by his smell, his taste, hiseverything. I kiss Fallon’s jawline and nibble his ear, eliciting a round of delicious shivers from him.
I press my mouth to his again, sealing us together in an urgent kiss.
He said no one’s home, so as soon as he tells me what he needs, I’m giving it to him.
CHAPTEREIGHTEEN
FALLON
Ryder’s kissing me with such intent, like he wants to consume every atom of my being. I run my hands along his broad shoulders, unable to stop myself. His body is made of hard muscle and sharp contours, and my body tingles with awareness. I can feel his cock hardening, and my own starts to fill.
“Think I’m gay,” I pant into his open mouth.
Ryder breaks the kiss, pulling back. His eyes are inquisitive yet lust-hazed as he scans my face. “Yeah?”
I nod. I have to be.
There’s no other excuse for what’s been happening since I moved to California and met Ryder. I’m completely gay.
“Yeah,” I confirm.
“That’s awesome, dude. Me too.”
I wasn’t worried about his reaction. It’s Ryder. And even after so little time, I know that means easy acceptance, enthusiastic loyalty, and a blinding smile. And he doesn’t disappoint when his lopsided grin slowly eases into a full-on, dazzling as fuck Ryder Cruz smile.
He’s beyond attractive and oozes charisma. I don’t deserve him. But I think I’m going to let myself have him. So, when he asks his next question, there’s zero hesitation on my end. We’re on the same wavelength, our frequencies aligned.
I want this.
I want him.
Ryder doesn’t stop touching me as he speaks softly, trailing those long, slender fingers down my cheek before thumbing my lip ring like he always does.
“I’ve been thinking too, Blue. A lot.Every day.About you. Aboutus. I want you to bemine. My boyfriend. Will you go out with me?” His smile is slightly hesitant now, and that won’t do.
“Yeah. Fuck, Ry.” I kiss him again.My boyfriend.“Yes,” I hiss into his mouth as he grabs my waist, pushing his hips up and pulling me down at the same time. He’s hard. Really hard.
I thread my fingers through his soft curls and grasp on, kissing him hungrily. Deeply. I want Ryder so badly. I try not to think about anything else, living in this moment with him. I push the demons away, the ones telling me I’m not good enough for him.
Ryder stands, one hand pressed to my back while the other splayed under my ass. I release my grip on his hair, wrap my arms around his neck, and lock my legs around his trim waist.
We continue to make out, our mouths practically fused together as he stumbles down the hallway back to his bedroom.
He pulls his lips away, panting like he just got off the basketball court. “Bean bag?” he asks, eyes half-lidded.
