Page 25 of A Minute More

Moments later, I get hugged by a few people and jostled slightly, and in my periphery, I see Simon moving away from me. Pretty soon he’s up against the wall, his hands in his pockets, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth.

More people show up, and I realize that my guest is about ten seconds from bolting. I see him inching across the wall, making his way toward the exit. And that’s when I move.

“Come on,” I say, grabbing on to his wrist and pulling him toward the stairs. We move through the mingling people, me dodging their attempts to make me stay and Simon just dodging them in general.

And when we make it up to my room, and the door shuts behind us, I feel Simon’s shoulders slacken, his body letting out a tremble as he runs a hand down his face.

“Fuck,” he murmurs and then lets out a long breath.

I just stand there, letting him have his space, and when he finally seems to compose himself, he shakes out his hands and meets my stare.

“Sorry.”

“It can be a bit much. It’s totally fine. Sometimes I come up and just sit in here alone when they’re throwing a party.”

“You don’t bring people up here?” he asks, and I shake my head.

“No. Not really my thing.”

Simon watches me intently for a second and then starts to move around my room. It’s then that I realize what a mess it is, so I quickly reach out and start shoving my dirty clothes in the hamper and tossing the comforter over the unmade bed. It ends up lumpy and really unseemly but Simon isn’t even looking. He’s moving around the room, his fingers dragging across the surface of my desk and then the shelves that house my trinkets and trophies for the various sports I played in high school and college.

“Who’s this?” he asks, his finger stopping on a picture frame of my family.

“My mom and my sister, Poppy. Both loveable pains in my ass.”

His eyes slam into mine and then he looks away and adds, “You have a lot of trophies.”

“Have more at my mom’s…” I chuckle at that. “Shit, that sounded braggy, but you know what I mean.”

“I do,” he says as he continues to trail around my room, taking far too long to observe the boring parts of my life. He even rifles through a magazine I have on my desk and a stack of mail that I haven’t been bothered to go through yet.

“Find anything interesting?” I finally ask, moving toward him.

“Yeah,” he says as I come to a stop right in front of him. He smells exactly like I remember, masculine and soft at the same time. His hand falls from the desk to his side and he takes another step toward me, enveloping me in his aura. And I’m helpless to do anything but inhale.

“You smell really good,” I find myself saying, and Simon’s cheeks pinken, his lips parting slightly.

“You’re entirely too honest.”

“I think it’s the best trait I have,” I reply. Simon wets his mouth, making those pink, plump lips shiny, and I am remiss to do anything but stare at them. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, but I can’t seem to help myself. I haven’t been able to do anything but look at him and think about him ever since he walked into the sandwich shop all those weeks ago.

Simon lets out a shaky breath and then he leans up, our lips brushing softly. It’s a subtle kiss, more like a flutter of air across my mouth, but I feel it all the way in my chest.

Fuck, Simon’s gay? I had no fucking clue.

His dark eyes flash up to meet mine, and I can’t move. Don’t know how? He’s frozen me with his touch. And so he does it again, his mouth pressing against mine harder this time. His lips move across mine as he lets out a small whimper, and my entire body flames.

And each time that mouth slants against mine, it finds freedom, the courage to explore, and I don’t want to crush it—don’t want to tell him to stop when he seems to need this.

So I just open my mouth and let his tongue slide into mine.

Fuck, but I’m not gay, I think as he leans into me, another small whimper seeping into my mouth and making my cock twitch between my legs.

Why the hell am I doing this?

I know why. Because Simon’s unfurling like a flower before me, opening up and showing me who he is on the inside. And I’m so fucking intrigued that I can’t make him stop.

His hands slide up my chest and around my neck, his kisses growing more desperate, the moans slipping from his throat making me heated. His body presses firmer into mine and that’s when I feel it, the hard length of his cock against my thigh.

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