Page 61 of Golden

“I . . . fuck. I was going to ask if you’ve thought about . . . you know . . . Going further.”

I don’t think I’ve ever heard Wes stumble over words before and I’m one hundred percent certain he’s blushing beneath his dark brown skin and I grin. “Are you asking if I want to have sex with you?”

My question means I find myself on the receiving end of a glare and my grin widens. Gripping his shoulder, I push him over onto his back, covering his body with mine. His hands come up, gripping my ass and I roll my hips with a groan, burying my face against his neck.

“I’m going to go ahead and assume that you want me to bottom,” I say, pressing a kiss to his jaw.

His grip tightens on my ass. “Yeah.”

“Do you ever . . .”

“I’ve tried it. Wasn’t a huge fan. But it was a long time ago.”

I lean on his chest, staring down at him. “Wow. You’re really selling it to me.”

Before I’ve finished the sentence, he flips us, and I find myself staring up at him with wide eyes. He dips his head, his mouth nipping and kissing along my throat as he gently rolls his hips, and my head falls back, fingers gripping his muscled shoulders like I might fall off the edge of the planet.

“You know I’ll make you feel good,” he rumbles in my ear. “You want my cock filling you up, don’t you?”

My breath hitches and my heart starts to hammer in my chest. “Yes.”

I really fucking do. Go figure.

The word is little more than an exhale, and Wes’ muscles relax under my fingers when my answer registers. Although the thought of Wes’ thick cock going where his single finger felt tight, terrifies me, I know in my gut he’d never hurt me.

“Do you want some homework?” Wes asks, his tongue flicking against my pulse.

I push him up so I can see his face. “Homework?”

He grins. “Every time you jerk off, I want you to finger yourself. Try to work up to two fingers for me. If you can make it to three, you’ll get extra credit.”

Before I can think of some smart-ass reply, he kisses me, and at the first stroke of his tongue, all words are forgotten. Until his phone vibrates loudly on his desk.

I groan loudly as he rolls off me and swipes it up with a smile. “Pizza’s here.”

Raising my hand, I give him a thumbs up, watching as he pulls on his sweatpants and t-shirt before draping my arm across my face. He laughs and I don’t even care that I’m still buck naked and half hard when he opens his door and steps out into the hall, because I’m not sure I’ve ever felt happier.

WES

Things have shifted since Saturday night. The awkwardness that seemed to swell in the silences between our meetups has dissipated after seeing each other naked. The rest of our ‘date’ went well. By the time I got back with the pizza, Sol was cleaned and dressed, the faint smell of sex and a slight blush to his skin the only sign that anything had happened between us.

It was nice. Really nice. Hanging out, talking, and eating pizza. Most of our conversation centered around the fundraiser, but we broached other topics, too. Then we made out until I took us both in my hand and caused enough mess that I had to lend Sol a shirt to walk home in.

Thank fuck for five a.m. practices. Being up and out at that time negated any question of staying over. Although, it was past eleven by the time he left, and I was as slow as a goddamn sloth at training.

We’ve met up three times since. Twice at Grinds for lunch meetings about the fundraiser and once at my place for . . . well. Lunch wasn’t the only thing I put in my mouth. A grin curves my lips as I head down the path from the gym toward Halston Hall.

Swim practice was particularly grueling this morning. Coach McMann wasn’t there, and both Aldo and Joy were in weird moods. The assistant coach worked us harder than usual in an atmosphere that made it difficult to breathe when we came up for air.

Shaking it off, I shift my bag higher on my shoulder. I’ve got a few last-minute things to complete for tomorrow’s edition of The Howl and then my weekend is free. My gut gives a little swoop and I shake my head.

Lacrosse season officially starts in a week, and a few initial practices have already been scheduled, but it means Sol is about to become unattainable. I’m annoyed with how much that bugs me. This is about getting off. Helping Sol figure out his sexuality while getting my rocks off along the way. Graduation is looming in the distance and with it, a future I still haven’t claimed.

Guilt tightens my chest. I should go home this weekend instead of hoping to spend it with Sol. I should go home and tell my dad that I’m not working for him. That I have a job. Sucking in a breath, I try to push the guilt away and focus on getting shit sorted today so I actually do have a weekend to enjoy.

“Wes!”

The heavy guilt instantly evaporates, replaced by something that has my heart swelling and a grin splitting my face, but I try not to give it a name as I turn to find Sol jogging over to me, his kit bag slung across his chest.

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