Page 45 of Golden

“I get that. Airports are the worst.”

We head for the door, the tension between us melting like the snow on the common. “And you’re from Portland?”

“Born and raised.” He smiles. “I wanted to stay near my family.”

“I can tell they mean a lot to you.”

His smile is soft as he glances at me. “They do.”

As much as our conversation has eased the tension, it creeps back slowly with every step toward the dorms. Even though, officially, we’re going to eat lunch and work on the fundraiser, the fact that we’re going to be alone together is a blaring siren amidst the silence. The question is, do I make a move or leave it to Sol?

WES

Ezekiel West Halls loom in front of us and as much as I try and keep my mind on ideas for the fundraiser, I can’t stop my thoughts from wandering. I’ve been aching to taste Sol again since that kiss back in September and the idea of claiming him has my dick thickening in my jeans. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about his pretty cock and the perfect weight of it on my tongue, and I swallow a groan at the thought of a repeat. I want to undress him—to explore him—find out what he likes. What sounds I can wring from him.

By the time I swipe to open the main doors, I’m hard as steel and grateful for my coat hiding the evidence. I glance at Sol, but I can’t tell what he’s thinking, a small frown on his face as we head to the stairs. It’s only when we reach my floor, that I realize Sol has taken the lead.

“Hey,” I say, my eyes narrowed. “How do you know where my room is?”

Sol looks over his shoulder, his blue eyes widening. “I . . . erm . . .”

My eyebrows raise as he turns the wonderful shade of pink that has me wanting to nip at the heated tips of his ears. “You . . .?”

He sighs, looking away as we continue to the end of the hall. “I came looking for you, the Friday before winter break. I thought Ella might have told you.”

“Ella?”

“Yeah, she came out when I was knocking and told me you’d already left for break.”

My pulse quickens. “Why did you come looking for me?”

We’ve reached my door and I unlock it, moving back to let Sol in first. He steps inside, glancing around, and I watch him as I shed my coat and hang it on the hook on the back of the door. My dorm room is likely a quarter of the size of his room at the Den, but it suits me fine. Putting his bag down on the floor, he shrugs out of his jacket, his back to me as he hangs it on my desk chair.

“Sol?” I press. “Why did you come looking for me?”

He doesn’t turn, instead studying the textbooks I have lined up on my shelf. They’re all about coding, so I doubt he’s actually looking at them.

“You know why,” he says quietly.

“Do I?” I should let this drop, but pushing him like this, forcing him to admit what he wants, has my blood heating and my cock twitching.

“Yes,” he breathes, his shoulders tense.

My eyes flit to the food resting on my desk. I could pick it up and take a seat, letting this drop, or . . .

I cross to him in less than two strides, placing my hands on his waist and brushing my lips against his neck. Sol stiffens, but then exhales, leaning back against me and tilting his head to give me more access. I don’t need to be asked twice.

My fingers tighten their grip before sliding under his shirt as I kiss and lick my way along his neck and jaw. Sol’s head falls back, his eyes closed as his chest heaves and, when I look down over his shoulder, I smile as I see the bulge in the front of his jeans.

It takes strength I didn’t know I possessed to refrain from tearing off his clothes and shoving him down on the bed, but I find myself enjoying savoring him. Letting my fingers idly trace the ridges of his stomach, I allow myself to taste his skin, inhaling the scent I’ve been chasing since the start of the year.

“Wes.”

He says my name on a whispered exhale, and I cup his face, turning him so I can claim his mouth.

My eyes roll back behind my closed lids as he opens for me, letting me slowly fuck his mouth with my tongue, taking what I want. It’s every bit as good as I remember, and I kick myself for not chasing this sooner. A moan builds in my throat, and I turn him, one hand sinking into his hair as the other slides down to his ass, pressing him against me.

We both groan as our dicks rub against each other and I force myself to break our kiss long enough to hold Sol’s gaze, asking for permission as I grip the hem of his shirt. Breathing hard, he raises his arms, and I don’t hesitate in ripping it up and off, tossing it to the floor as I drink in the expanse of toned, tanned muscle.

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