Page 131 of Better When Shared
"I'm not deflecting shit. But I don't see how my sexuality is suddenly today's topic of conversation."
“I’m helping!” Gemma moved closer, close enough that I could smell her perfume—something expensive and subtle that made me think of clean sheets and skin warmed by sunlight. She turned back to Brian, a wicked smile on her lips. "He's never kissed a guy.” Like I wasn't standing right fucking there. "Can you believe it?"
"Gemma!" I hissed, mortification burning through me.
Brian's expression shifted, the corner of his mouth lifting in a smirk that transformed his whole face. "Never? That's interesting, coming from someone who's always teasing me about my boring sex life."
I swallowed hard, backing up until my shoulders hit the cool stone wall. "That's different."
"Is it?" He pushed off from his own wall, stepping closer with the slow, predatory grace of someone who knew the effect he was having on me. "You mock me for being uptight, for being predictable, when you're too scared to even explore half of what you want?"
"I'm not scared," I protested weakly. "It's just... complicated. How the fuck am I supposed to know if a guy is interested? It's not always something people advertise."
Brian took another step closer, and suddenly the narrow courtyard felt impossibly small. The air between us crackled with tension, heavy with possibilities I'd never let myself fully imagine.
"You’re sexy as hell, Enzo. I’m sure you have lots of guys interested." Brian's voice was quiet but intense, his blue eyes darkening behind his glasses. "Maybe you’re just not looking close enough."
Before I could process what was happening, he moved with decisive speed, closing the distance between us until his body was a solid wall of heat against mine. His hand came up to grip the stone beside my head, effectively caging me against the wall.
"First," he said, his breath warm against my ear. "Look for proximity. Guys don't stand this close unless they want something."
My heart hammered against my ribs so hard I was sure he could feel it. I tried to respond, to make some joke that would diffuse the tension, but my voice had abandoned me.
"Second, there's touch. Casual, seemingly accidental at first. Maybe they’re testing the waters, watching how you respond. You can test the waters back, without worrying too much." His fingers trailed up my arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. "Then, once you’ve both acknowledged it, perhaps something more deliberate."
His hand reached my shoulder, then slid to the back of my neck, fingers tangling in the hair at my nape. The gentle tug sent shivers racing down my spine, and I had to bite my lip to hold back a sound that would have been humiliatingly needy.
“Does that feel good?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
“See? Nothing scary about it. And watch his eyes. The way his gaze darts to your ass like he wants to bury himself inside you. The way he looks at your mouth when you speak like he can’t stop thinking about what they’d look like wrapped around his cock. If you look closely, you’ll know what I mean.”
His gaze dropped to my lips as he said it, and something molten and desperate uncurled in my stomach. I couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't do anything but stand there pinned by his proximity and the overwhelming realization that I wanted this—wanted him. Brian fucking Casey.
"And," he murmured, his thumb brushing across my lower lip in a touch so light it was almost reverent. “Once you’ve gathered all the pertinent evidence, you simply need to ask him."
“Ask him?”
“Yes. Want to practice with me?”
I bit my bottom lip, shaking my head even as the words slipped out. “Kiss me?”
He was smiling as his hand slid from my neck to wrap firmly around my throat, not squeezing but holding me in place with a dominance that made my knees go weak. Then he leaned in, closing the last few inches between us, and pressed his mouth to mine.
The kiss obliterated every coherent thought in my head. Brian's lips were firm but surprisingly soft, moving against mine with a confidence that left no room for hesitation or doubt. When his tongue swept across the seam of my mouth, I opened for him without thinking, desperate for more of this unexpected, overwhelming pleasure.
He tasted like wine and heat and controlled desire, his tongue exploring my mouth with the same methodical thoroughness he applied to everything. The thought should have been funny, but there was nothing amusing about the way his hand tightened around my throat, the way his body pressed mine back against the ancient stone, the hard evidence of his arousal pressing against my hip.
I made a sound I'd never heard from my own throat before—half whimper, half groan—and arched up into him, my hands coming alive to clutch at his shoulders, his back, anywhere I could reach. The kiss deepened, turned almost bruising in its intensity, and I took everything he offered, hungry for more, for all of it, for things I'd never even let myself want.
When he pulled back, I felt the loss like a physical pain. My lips tingled, my body humming with need, as Brian stepped away with that same controlled grace, straightening his glasses with steady hands like he hadn't turned my entire world sideways.
"Now you know what it feels like. It’ll be easier when you meet the right guy.”
I stared at him, unable to form words, my brain struggling to catch up with what had just happened. My legs felt boneless, my heart still racing like I'd run a marathon. He turned and walked down the street, waving for us to follow.
"Holy shit," Gemma whispered from somewhere to my left, her eyes wide and dark with something that looked like hunger. "That was hot."
