Every quarterback had his favorite receiver. There might be two or three who played their position well and could be relied on consistently, but there was usually one who stood out. Carson Gonzalez was my go-to guy. We’d been a dynamic duo on the field for the past three years at Chilton. He could read my body language and eye and hand signals and get a feel for which play I’d call before I said it aloud. It was an interesting phenomenon since he barely spoke to me on the field. Then again, maybe that was what I liked about him. I appreciated the art of silent communication after listening to Max and Sky alternately fighting and fucking all day Sunday.

I went to the library and the gym to give them privacy, figuring it was a good way to keep occupied so I wouldn’t drive myself crazy thinking about Rory and our closet BJ. I could almost believe I’d imagined the whole thing. Even if it turned out to be fake news, the idea alone had provided serious fantasy material. And my roommates’ nonstop sexathon didn’t help. I came home to a chorus of “Fuck me, fuck me! Pound me, baby! Harder!” from behind their bedroom door and immediately jumped into the shower and jerked off to visions of Rory above me and behind me. It was almost too much.

For the first time in ages, I didn’t mind the weekly Sunday night dinner at my parents’ house. My dad’s constant harping about my grades, the law school application, and the importance of timeliness got old after the first hour, but he reminded me of what I didn’t want, which I supposed was helpful in a way he hadn’t intended. With all the excess static in my head, it was a wonder I could still throw a football.

Nah…it actually made perfect sense. The game was my ultimate stress relief. One hundred yards of green marked neatly at ten-yard intervals with a goal post on either end was my personal happy space. When I felt overwhelmed by expectations to achieve more, be more, it was nice to have one thing I could count on. I honestly don’t know what I’m going to do without it, I thought as I glanced sideways at Gonzalez.

He ran down the field and made a sharp left at the forty-yard line before continuing along the side. I pulled my right arm back and unleashed the football. It spun in a beautiful spiral, arcing high at the midpoint before falling gracefully into Gonzalez’s arms. He didn’t break stride to look for the ball, and he didn’t stop running until he reached the end zone.

In a game, it would have been a perfect touchdown. The crowd would have gone nuts, and the bench would have whooped gleefully while an excited announcer sang my praises. “Rafferty does it again! A sixty-yard pass right in the bread basket! That boy is NFL-bound for sure!” Reality was a tad more subdued. My backup QB gave me a fist bump and chuckled when Gonzalez spiked the ball and did his usual TD dance. But everyone else was too busy running through their own drills to notice. And they were probably ready to go home anyway. We’d been in the weight room and then on the field for two hours. Coach Flannigan blew the whistle and signaled the end of practice just as Gonzalez jogged back to me.

“Oh, I thought we’d try that one more time,” he said, sounding disappointed.

“Why mess with perfection?” I joked.

He frowned as he passed the ball over. “It wasn’t quite perfect. I had to speed up at the end to catch it. We gotta get the drop to match velocity, ya know?”

I scoffed. “Engineering majors suck.”

Gonzalez chuckled. He was a good-looking guy with dark, unruly curls and a lean, compact body. He was smart, athletic, and enthusiastic. And his quiet confidence was laced with a wisdom that seemed like an anomaly among most twenty-one-year-olds.

“My art history minor balances out the geek stuff,” he replied with a self-deprecating shrug.

“No. Sorry. Still geeky,” I teased as I headed toward the sideline.

“Wait up! I have a question. Um…do you know Sky Jameson?”

“He’s my roommate. Why?”

“I thought so. You must have eaten his leftovers ’cause I overheard him talking about finding out his roommate was gay after class. I know Max lives with you too, but I don’t think he meant him. It was more like he wanted me to hear so I’d confront you. I don’t think anyone paid attention to him. Well, maybe Moreno. He’s pissed you yelled at him the other day. He’ll get over it and—it’s not a big deal, but I thought you’d want to know.”

“Uh…right, thanks,” I said distractedly.

Gonzalez patted my back companionably, then switched topics to Monday Night Football. We dissected the teams playing that night as we headed to the locker room. I had to give myself credit for a masterful acting job ’cause I didn’t give a fuck about the Redskins’ chances with their new QB. All I wanted was to run ahead so I could call Max and find out what the hell was going on. But I had more work to do first.

I gave a rah-rah speech about last weekend’s game and added something about the tougher competition coming up. I tried to keep it positive while pointing out that we needed to make improvements. I sensed the residual sullenness from Moreno that Gonzalez warned me about, but he was a big boy. He’d get over it before the next game. Or he wouldn’t play.

Once my team captain duties were complete, I showered, dressed, and raced to my car to call Max.

“What’s going on with Sky and you? Carson Gonzalez said Sky outed me in his art class and—”

“Huh? What are you talking about?”

“You heard me, Max.” I tossed my bag onto the back seat before getting behind the wheel. “He made it sound like he specifically wanted the guy on my team to wonder if I’m queer. This must mean you broke up again, and that little shit is on a mission to get some kind of warped revenge.”

“Well, he was pissed when he caught us in bed, but we worked it out and—”

“He didn’t ‘catch us in bed!’ That sounds so creepy. We were fully dressed, for fuck’s sake!”

“Yeah, but you were wearing his shirt and he got pissed. I guess I had that other guy’s cologne on my skin. Sky thought it was yours and…it escalated from there.”

I groaned aloud. “Look, you need to sort your shit out with him and leave me out of it.”

“I’ll talk to him again,” Max said in a defeated tone before adding in a rush, “I just—he came out to his family this weekend. It didn’t go well.”

“Oh.”

“I know. And I think he was hoping I’d say I was ready too.”

“What did you say? Do you want to come out?” I choked.

“No way! Maybe that makes me a dick, but my baseball career will be over before it begins if I come out. I’m not ready for that.” He sighed heavily, then continued. “Don’t worry, Chrissy. I’ll talk to him. I’m heading home now and I bet you are too, but could you just give us an hour alone?”

“Yeah, but I’m moving out as soon as I find a place. I can’t deal with seven more months of this bullshit, Max. He’s too volatile. I have enough on my plate right now.”

“You’re not going anywhere. Just let me talk to him and work this out.”

“Fine. Text me later.”

I disconnected the call, then swiped my damp palms on my jeans and pulled out of my parking space. I wasn’t sure what to do now. I was hungry. I could grab something to eat and get started on my stats homework. It would give me an excuse to call Rory. I needed to hear a friendly voice who’d joke with me about seasonal latte flavors. Someone uncomplicated and unexpectedly kind. And someone who, after two days apart, hopefully didn’t think Saturday night was a big mistake.

I stopped at the next red light to check my Bluetooth setting, then I scrolled for his number, and pushed Call.

“Yo.”

I gave a half laugh. “Do you always answer your phone like that?”

“Yeah, I’m a man of few words. I s’pose you are too. You’ve been ignoring my messages.”

“You only left me one. I think it said, ‘You okay?’ And yeah…I’m okay.”

“Good. So, how many messages was I supposed to leave?” he countered.

“Three.”

“Why three?”

“It’s the perfect number. One is too casual, two could be a butt dial, but three indicates active interest without seeming overboard.”

“That’s a very detailed estimation. And three just happens to be the number on your jersey. I know you’re not into numerology. You must be superstitious.”

I chuckled. “I am. Comes with the territory. Are wrestlers superstitious?”

“Some are. Not me.”

“I didn’t think so. You’re too practical to be superstitious.”

“True. I walk under ladders on the regular and I own a black cat. Actually, she owns me. I’m kind of her bitch. Whatever she says goes.”

I burst out laughing and suddenly, I was very glad I’d called Rory. “Buttons is black?”

“Mostly. She has a white paw. She’s pretty damn cute.”

“I bet.”

We were silent for a moment until Rory spoke again. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Whatcha doin’ now?”

I slowed behind a red Corvette and prepared to turn into a neighborhood strip mall on University Street. “I’m going to grab something to eat and—”

“What are you hungry for?” he intercepted.

“Uh, I don’t know.”

“Do you like pasta?”

“Sure. Why?”

“Come over.”

“Now?”

“Yeah. I’m making fettuccine with chicken and veggies. The water is boiling for the pasta and the chicken is still in the oven. If you come now, it’ll still be warm when you arrive. Do you have your statistics book?”

“Yeah, but—”

“Perfect. You’re hungry, I’ve got food and a cute cat you oughtta meet. Your call, though. No pressure.”

I nodded mutely and smiled, though the gesture was lost on him. “That sounds awesome. Thank you.”

“Cool. I’m easy to find,” he said before rattling off directions. “Call me if you get lost. See you soon, QB.”

Rory lived in a decrepit-looking square stucco building that dated to sometime around the middle of the last century. Rusted ironwork trimmed the doorways of the otherwise plain façade. It might have seemed ornate and charming a few decades ago, but now it looked like dingy lace pasted on cement. I glanced at the clumsy banister leading to the second story before carefully making my way up the stairs. A single fixture between plain doors cast a dull light in the open corridor. I noted the cobwebs along the ceiling and on the dead cactus plant next to his neighbor’s door. Pieces of an argument filtered above the hum of traffic from the nearby freeway. And if I craned my neck I could probably see the Nike billboard I’d passed when I’d exited. This place reminded me of a sad motel or a set for a spooky Halloween movie. I knocked at apartment 2B and almost jumped out of my skin when the door swung open immediately.

“Hey, there.”

“Christ, you scared me,” I said, clutching the strap of my backpack with a scowl before meeting Rory’s amused gaze.

Damn, he was sexy. His eyes crinkled at the corners, softening his chiseled features, giving him a boyishly handsome look that went well with his snug retro Bugs Bunny T-shirt and workout shorts. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep any involuntary murmurs of approval to myself.

“Sorry about that.” Rory chuckled and widened his arms in welcome. “Come on in. Dinner’s ready.”

I stepped inside and inhaled the delicious aroma emanating from the galley kitchen to my right. “It smells amazing.”

“I’m a fuckin’ awesome cook.” He winked playfully before heading to the stove to light the burner under a pan of vegetables.

“And so modest too. Can I do anything to help?” I asked, setting my backpack on one of the two barstools at the narrow counter space.

“Nope. As soon as the veggies are sautéed, we’ll be ready to eat. Want something to drink?”

“Yes, please. Water is fine. Where’s Buttons?”

Rory pulled a water bottle from the small fridge behind him and handed it over, then pointed at a basket next to the sofa.

“She’s hiding. She’ll make an appearance if she decides you’re worthy. In the meantime, there’s bread on the counter. Help yourself. I’ll bring dinner out.”

I thanked him, then twisted the cap from the water bottle and took a generous sip before rounding the corner in search of the bread. I was ravenous. I bit into the baguette with gusto before turning to check out my surroundings.

Rory’s apartment was tiny. Probably half the size of mine and much older. But unlike the rough exterior, it was…pleasant. Surprisingly so. A short wall delineated the narrow kitchen from the main living area. There was just enough room for a sofa, an ottoman, a TV console, and a smallish television. Two barstools were tucked under the small peninsula by the cut-out in the kitchen wall. The palette was basic “dude”…dark leather against stark white walls, though a large red throw rug anchored the room and provided a nice splash of color. It was simple—but tidy and very clean.

“Your place is cool,” I commented when he entered the room, carrying two plates and a large bowl.

“Thanks. Let’s sit on the sofa. We have more room to eat there,” he said decisively as he set his burden on the coffee table. “Help yourself. I’ll get some forks, napkins, and extra veggies.”

I obeyed and quickly got to work, scooping chicken fettuccine Alfredo onto both plates. Rory joined me a minute later, handing over the silverware before taking a seat next to me. I shot a bashful sideways glance at him as I reached for a napkin.

“Do you eat like this every night?”

“It’s really nothing special. I make sauces in bulk and freeze them. Then it’s just a matter of adding protein and veggies. By the way, this Alfredo is a healthy version. If you want to drown it in parmesan, feel free. I won’t be offended. Cheers.” He tapped his water bottle against mine and winked.

“Cheers. And thanks again. This is incredible and very unexpected.” I smiled as I twisted the pasta around my fork.

“You’re welcome. You sounded anxious, but you said we’re cool. Are we?”

“Of course.”

Rory tilted his head and shot me a challenging look. “Then kiss me.”

“Um…now?”

“Yeah, now. The other night could have been a fluke. Instead of wondering, let’s get it over with. One kiss should be enough to tell. C’mere,” he commanded, leaning sideways.

I set my fork down and met him halfway until our noses brushed. Then I waited for him to make the next move. He stayed stubbornly still. When I couldn’t stand the growing tension, I pressed my lips to his. And wow…amazing.

Rory was a great kisser. He had the simple art of give-and-take down to a science. He molded his mouth to mine and gently pushed his tongue inside. The connection was sweet but bold. It was more about discovery than possession. I hummed as I snaked my arm around his neck, pulling him closer. He sucked my tongue, then bit my bottom lip playfully before pulling back.

“Definitely not a fluke. Eat up, baby, and tell me about your day.”

“You don’t want to hear about my day,” I assured him.

“Sure, I do.”

I cleared my throat and willed my heart rate to return to normal before I replied. “It was boring. I had two classes and two practices, and now here I am.”

“You sounded frustrated or flustered on the phone. Something happened. What was it?”

“Are you my therapist?”

“If you want me to be,” he said around a bite of fettuccine.

I studied his profile thoughtfully. “Okay. Well, I’m up to my eyeballs in stress. Between school, football, my dad’s law school campaign, and the new twist in the Max and Sky circus, I can’t keep up. It’s like I have the world’s longest to-do list and five minutes to get everything done. Add you to the mix, and I’m super confused.”

“Sounds serious. Let’s break it down. Are you struggling in any class besides stats?”

“No.”

“Then scratch that off your list. You’re going to be fine. I’ll make sure of it. Football is your thing, so I doubt it’s a worry for you. Your dad might be more complicated, ’cause family is that way. But ask yourself if you’ll be happy sitting at a desk in a law firm ten years from now. And remember, it’ll be your ass in that chair, not his. If it’s not your passion or you just need time to decide if it’s what you want, be honest. It’s not a crime to have your own dreams. Where was I?”

I stared at him with a dopey grin on my face before refocusing. “Um…Max and Sky.”

“Right. What about them?”

I briefly filled him in on my roomie saga as we ate. His incredulous expression was borderline hysterical. He swallowed what was in his mouth before busting into hearty laughter.

“Sounds like a soap opera. Do you think Max jumped in your bed to make his boyfriend jelly?”

I snickered, then dabbed at the corner of my mouth with my napkin. “No, that’s not Max’s style. He hates being alone. It might be why we didn’t make it. We play different sports and we have different schedules and—”

“Whoa. Back up. You and Max were a couple?”

I reached out to smooth the crease at the bridge of his nose impulsively and immediately pulled my hand away. What the hell was wrong with me?

“Yeah. We were together for five years.”

Rory gaped. “You’re twenty-two! Five years is a fucking eternity at your age! Are you sure this isn’t a mind game to win you back?”

“Yeah right,” I huffed sarcastically. “Max doesn’t know how to play mind games. He also doesn’t know how to communicate. And to quote Taylor Swift, we’re never getting back together.”

“That’s very gay,” Rory deadpanned.

I chuckled and raised my hand. “Guilty. I’m very gay.”

“Good to know. And as your therapist, I have to ask.…How do you feel about this gay stuff?”

I regarded Rory for a moment, then picked up a piece of bread before twisting slightly to face him.

“Gay is good,” I replied with a lopsided smile.

“Keep going,” he prodded.

“I like how I feel when I can be myself. I like it when I don’t have to pretend I’m someone I’m not. And I love the sex.”

I ripped the bread in half and winked. I noted the lusty slide of Rory’s Adam’s apple with a perverse sense of satisfaction. I was the world’s worst flirt, so I couldn’t help feeling proud that I got to him even just a little bit. And yeah, there was something heady about the way he looked at me like I was his new favorite dessert.

Rory let out a ragged sigh as he adjusted himself in his workout shorts. “This Sky dude sounds like he’s lashing out. He’s insecure in his relationship and with himself, and his family just made it a million times worse by not supporting him. Been there, done that. He’s probably questioning his decision, but it gets better after a while.”

“Maybe. And good for him if he’s ready for it, but I’m not. At least not yet. I shouldn’t have to come out on his time clock.”

“Of course not,” Rory agreed.

“I guess I should be ready for anything. If they split with any animosity whatsoever, I’m gonna get screwed. Sky will make sure the whole damn school knows about the queer quarterback and first baseman who used to be lovers.”

“Will anyone really care? Evan paved the way for you last year. Mitch and he were an international sensation. They were getting fan mail from folks on the other side of the world.”

“Evan’s position wasn’t in the spotlight. Mine is…and I’m not ready for the questions and commentary from strangers. It’ll be bad enough dealing with my dad when the time comes.” I jumped up and paced to the front door and back again. “I just want to graduate. If I can get that piece of paper, I can move on and start over.”

“You mean run away,” he deadpanned.

“No. That’s not running away. It’s moving on. It’s called growing up.”

“Right. Well, eat up. Your food’s getting cold.”

I scowled at his head when he bent to take a big bite.

“I just told you something kind of significant. You could at least pretend to give a shit,” I huffed.

“I give all the shits, Christian. Come sit the fuck down already. You’re giving me a crick in my neck,” Rory said around a mouthful of pasta.

He patted the cushion next to him in invitation and then motioned me forward meaningfully. I cast my gaze from him to the array of bowls and plates littering the coffee table before closing the distance and flopping down beside him with a heavy sigh.

“Sorry. I told you I’m a mess.”

Rory squeezed my thigh. “You’re not a mess. But you can only control so much, like the effort you put into your grades or your sport. The rest will work itself out.”

“Does that apply to parents too?”

“That I don’t know. Everyone’s situation is different.”

“What did your parents say when you came out?”

Rory went still. He pushed his plate away and leaned forward with one elbow on his knee. “My dad was long gone. But my mom’s exact words were ‘Get out.’ She added a few expletives to make sure I knew how she felt about queers and fucking faggots. Then she held the door open and told me we couldn’t talk until I found Jesus.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Part of the reason I waited so long was that I knew how it would go down. My mom found God when Dad left us. I don’t blame her for looking for something to believe in. She had two wild teenage boys, rent to pay, and a nowhere job at a supermarket. She took solace in the bottle for a while, then got sober and tried religion. I want to say it worked for her, but self-righteous misery is a dangerous combo if you ask me. I have no issue with God. I’m a believer. The problem is, I know her God and mine aren’t the same. The messages are too different. One says ‘Do unto others as you would have done unto you’ and the other adds a clause in tiny writing at the bottom of the page…‘but only if they look, act, and share the same beliefs as you.’ I prefer the benevolent choice, but maybe that’s because I know who I am, and I know I can’t change it.”

“Who are you?”

“I’m a garden-variety bi guy who really loves dick, baby. I’m not fabulous. I don’t like the color pink, but I get turned-on by guys who do. It took me a long time to admit it, but it’s liberating. I don’t have to pretend anymore. I don’t have to lie or evade questions or act like anyone else expects me to. I get to be myself and think about important shit like…getting a fucking job,” he said with a laugh.

“Do you think you’ll ever talk to your mom again?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. I’m okay either way. I have good people in my life…my brother, my friends. It sucks knowing my mom lives five minutes away and wants nothing to do with me, but I can’t lie about who I am to make her comfortable with what she believes.”

“Good point.”

He shifted to face me so our knees touched. “So we covered school, football, your parents and your ex. Anything else bugging you?”

I shook my head slowly. “Uh…well yeah. Do you really have a cat?”

Rory furrowed his brow in mock annoyance as he slid off the sofa. He crouched on his knees and beckoned the unseen cat forward with kisses and a soft plea to come out of hiding. “C’mere, baby girl. That’s a good kitty. Come on, Buttons. There’s my pretty girl.”

He leaned forward with his hand outstretched and then gently picked her up and cradled her in his arms before presenting her to me. “This is Buttons, queen of this castle, such as it is.”

My smile was so wide, it hurt my face. There was something very sweet about this giant of a man holding the small black cat that made my heart flip in my chest.

“She’s beautiful.” I ran my thumb on top of her head and pet her fur. Buttons purred and licked her white paw nonchalantly as if to say the gesture was acceptable. “How old is she?”

“Five. She belonged to my friend, Cody. He moved to Vermont and couldn’t afford to take her with him, so I offered to keep her. She’s allowed me the honor for three years now,” he said with a half chuckle.

“You’re lucky. I’ve never had a pet.”

“Never?”

I snickered at his incredulous expression. “No. I begged my parents for a dog when I was a kid. They gave the old ‘We’ll see’ a million times, but it never happened. When I was seven, I won a couple of goldfish at the fair one year and my dad told me it was a good chance for me to prove I could take care of something. I bought a big fishbowl, blue pebbles for the bottom, an underwater treasure chest, and a mini filter with money I’d been saving in my piggy bank since birth. I read up on how much to feed them, when and how to change their water. I was determined to be the best goldfish owner ever.”

“How long did they make it?”

“Forty-eight fucking hours. Can you believe that? I was wrecked. My mom bought me another one ’cause I was so devastated. I think that one lasted a month. Needless to say, I stopped asking for a dog or a cat.”

“Dogs and cats are nothing like fish. I bet you could handle it. Here…wanna hold her?”

Rory deposited Buttons into my arms before I could respond, clicking his tongue and cooing softly.

“She’s so pretty,” I said in an awed tone.

“Wow. I can’t believe she didn’t bolt. You’re good with her.”

“I like animals.”

“Me too. They’re easy. They don’t ask for much, and they’re always there for you.” He leaned in to press a kiss on the cat’s head and then mine before standing. “How do you feel about ice cream?”

“I feel really good about it.” I grinned.

“Cool. I’ll be right back.”

Rory gathered our plates and returned a few minutes later with a pint of Ben and Jerry’s Chocolate Fudge Brownie and two spoons. Buttons climbed out of my arms with a loud meow when I reached for the ice cream. We chuckled at her obvious annoyance, then settled in and just…talked.

We sat with our legs entwined, passing the container back and forth while we covered religion, politics, the world’s best birthday cakes, and our favorite holidays.

“Halloween?” I asked, scraping the bottom of the container before passing it to Rory.

“Yeah. You?” He scowled at the empty pint, then licked the inside edges. I knew it was for comedic purpose, but the sight of his tongue along the rim of that container did things to me.

“Christmas.”

“Everyone says that.”

I chuckled at his teasing tone. “Are you saying I’m not unique?”

Rory set the empty container on the coffee table. Then he pulled my knee close and absently massaged the inside of my thigh. The gesture was possessive yet tender at the same time. It was a powerful combination that made me want to climb onto his lap and stick my tongue down his throat.

“You’re one of a kind.”

“So are you,” I said, wincing at the note of hero worship in my tone.

Rory’s smile widened. He looked like a pirate—sexy as fuck and up to no good. He held my gaze and then tentatively reached out to trace my jawline. I froze. I might have stopped breathing too. It was hard to tell.

He leaned in close enough that I could feel his breath on my lips. He smelled like soap and something woodsy and masculine. I had to taste him again. My awareness of him skyrocketed as we hovered in a sensual standoff. I’d had a crush on him since the first day we met. I thought he was funny, charming, and hot as hell. Now I knew he was smart and kind too. And I knew what it felt like to have him pressed against me in a confined space with his hands on my dick while he devoured me with passionate kisses. I wanted that again. And more.

He caressed my cheek as though we were old lovers with a beautiful story. I leaned into his touch like a cat and let my gaze roam between his eyes and lips. Then I cupped the back of his neck and sealed my mouth over his. I wound my arms around his neck in an effort to get even closer before licking his bottom lip in a wordless request for entry. I could have kissed him all night. I loved the feel of his scruff against my chin and his hand on my lower back. I heard myself whimper when he pulled away to nip at my chin and catch his breath. I didn’t want to stop. I raked my fingers down his back and hiked my leg over his intending to push him flat on the sofa.

Rory chuckled lightly as he crooked his hand under my knee, using the momentum to send me backward. Then he climbed over me, crashing his mouth over mine as he rocked his hips rhythmically. His basketball shorts left nothing to the imagination. I could feel his erection through the thin fabric, and just knowing that he was big and thick and that his cum tasted amazing was enough to send me over the edge. I gyrated wantonly in my quest for friction. I wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms over his shoulders, arching my back as we sucked and nibbled each other’s tongues and lips. The feverish grinding and roving hands went on for a while, but we both knew there was a point of no return. For me, it might have been a matter of passing out from constricted blood flow. I was so hard, it hurt. I pushed my right hand between us and tried to stealthily unzip my jeans.

Rory froze and then rose above me with a sex-hazed expression that turned me inside out. “Are you sure you want to do that? ’Cause if you take those off, there’s a good chance I’m gonna fuck you.”

“Oh, my God. Yes.” I licked my lips and gulped. “I want you to fuck me. Do you have condoms and—”

“I got everything, baby.” Rory stood and offered his hand. “Come with me.”

I didn’t hesitate. I laced my fingers through his and followed him into a tiny alcove separating his bedroom from the living area. He led me inside the darkened room, pausing to switch the light on. I noted the abstract art poster hanging above the queen-sized bed and the chalkboard next to the closet door. The charcoal-striped duvet and dark-gray blinds on the window were a stark contrast to the white walls. The only real color here was the stack of books on the nightstand. I spotted the title of one on top and then squinted to see if I’d read it correctly. Astrophysics and Elemental Mathematics.

My pithy comment about books that doubled as Xanax was forgotten when he set his hand on my hip. The gesture felt familiar and possessive. I liked it. I stepped closer and wrapped my arm around his waist, loving the feel of his thick shaft through our clothes. I rolled my hips to create a little friction and maybe spur him on. It worked. Rory hissed at the contact and pounced.

He covered my mouth, driving his tongue between my lips in a searing kiss that sent me reeling. I slid my hand underneath his T-shirt and splayed my fingers on the small of his back as I angled my head to deepen the connection. We sucked and licked in a frenzy until we were desperate for air. I plucked at the hem of his T-shirt as I stepped back slightly.

“Take it off,” I growled.

“You too. Everything.”

I nodded and set to work, unbuckling, unbuttoning, and unzipping while he tongue-fucked my mouth with deep, probing kisses. I pushed my jeans over my ass but paused with my fingers hooked under the elastic of my boxer briefs.

“What about you? Go on. I have to see you again.”

Rory shot a mischievous, lopsided grin at me, then pulled his tee over his head, revealing the most glorious abs I’d ever seen. His muscular, tatted arms hinted at a beautiful design, but I wasn’t prepared for how gorgeous his ink was up close and personal. I wanted to study the detailed angel’s wing across his left pec and read the script along his side. But not as much as I wanted to touch him.

He moaned when I traced the writing low on his hip. I glanced down at the tent in his basketball shorts, fully intending to release him and maybe get on my knees and get to work. I lifted my gaze to his eyes to give him what I hoped would pass for a sexy look but stopped midkneel…and gasped.

I straightened immediately and brushed my thumb over the silver bars piercing his nipples. “That is so fucking hot. Does it feel good?”

Rory nodded. “Yeah. My nipples are super sensitive. If I’m wearing a tight shirt and it rubs just the right way…it can be a little dangerous.”

I played with the rounded barbells, then bent slightly and flicked my tongue over one and then the other. He hummed his approval, threading his fingers through my hair and massaging my scalp. I slipped my hand under the elastic of his basketball shorts and briefs and cupped his bare ass. Other than the sway of his hips and an occasional yank on my hair, Rory stayed still and let me explore, sucking his tits while I kneaded his bubble butt.

At some point, gravity brought me to my knees. I pulled my shirt over my head, then looked up to meet his gaze before lowering my jeans and briefs just enough to free myself. I loved his crude praise and the lusty grunt of admiration. I just hoped I didn’t come too soon when I got my second glimpse of Rory. This was so much nicer than hiding in a closet in a noisy club like a couple of horny teens who couldn’t control their libidos. We could take our time here, and I fully intended to do so.

I licked my lips and slowly pushed his shorts down. His dick instantly sprang from the confines and damn, the show just got better and better. Rory was as gorgeous as I remembered. Perfect even. I reached for him automatically and curled my fingers around his thick cock. I brushed my thumb across the wide mushroom head, smearing precum liberally before leaning in to taste him.

“Fuck,” he groaned somewhere above me.

That was all the encouragement I needed. I licked the head a couple of times and then traced the prominent vein of his shaft with the tip of my tongue. Up and down, up and down. Then I swallowed him whole. I gagged once or twice before finding my rhythm. Once I did, there was no stopping me. The feel of his hands in my hair and the lusty grunting noise he made while he pumped his hips drove me wild. I fondled his balls with my right hand and rubbed my fingers along the sensitive skin underneath as I stroked myself like mad with my left. When I twisted my wrist and changed my angle, Rory pushed at my forehead.

“Stop.”

I held on to the side of the mattress and lost my balance when I tried to stand. He grabbed my elbow to steady me and kissed me hard. Then he pulled back the duvet and told me to sit. I obeyed, shoving my jeans and boxer briefs down my legs and kicking my shoes off while I kept an eye on Rory undressing in front of me. I gripped myself firmly and waited for him to take his socks off and join me, chuckling when he tossed the second one over his shoulder with a flourish. He opened the nightstand drawer, grabbed a bottle of lube and a condom and set them next to me, and motioned for me to scoot back to the middle of the mattress.

“How do you want me?” I asked.

“Anyway I can have you,” he quipped, pouring lube into his palm. “That’s it. Keep jacking yourself and spread your legs. Wider. Let me look at you. Fuck, that’s hot.”

I wasn’t sure what he was seeing, but my view was spectacular. I never imagined my night would end up here with my naked tutor looming above me, barking porny commands while he massaged the sensitive skin around my hole. He caressed the inside of my thigh sweetly, then bent over to suck my cock as he pressed his finger inside me.

“Oh. Fuck,” I groaned loudly.

I arched instinctively to meet his mouth, but when he hooked the single digit and added another, I wanted that too. Rory alternately stroked and licked. I loved the feel of his warm skin and talented fingers. And I loved knowing he was as strung out as I was.

He released my cock and pulled his fingers away before reaching for the condom. Then he rolled it on quickly, and added lube before moving forward and lifting my legs over his shoulders. He held my gaze as he lined himself up with my entrance, pausing to kiss me softly.

“You ready?” he asked.

I nodded and willed myself to relax as he slowly made his way inside me. He stopped a few times to give me a chance to adjust to his girth. He was fucking huge. And though I was more than eager, I was definitely out of practice at being on the receiving end. It hurt. A lot. My muscles tensed and my breathing was short and erratic. Very unsexy. But just when I thought I’d have to tell him this wasn’t working, Rory brushed my hair from my damp forehead and kissed my brow, then spoke in a low, soothing voice. He didn’t say much, but his gentle chant of “It’s okay, I’ve got you” helped chase my nerves and the last of tendrils of pain away, replacing them with waves of intense pleasure.

I blinked up at him in wonder and threw my arms around his neck. “You feel so fucking good.”

“So do you.” He trembled slightly as if to keep himself from moving too fast.

“Do it. I’m ready. Fuck me.”

Rory growled in response, then captured my mouth as he surged forward. He didn’t go too hard or too fast. He simply made every stroke count. Every push and pull of his hips hit the right spot. I lowered my legs, wrapping them around his waist when he picked up speed. But I never stopped kissing him. Our tongues twisted as we met each other thrust for thrust…licking, sucking, and nibbling while we fucked in a growing frenzy. We broke to gasp for air and then did it all over again.

The bed creaked in time with our carnal groans and the sound of our sweat-slicked skin gliding. The rhythmic slap of his balls against my ass was erotic as hell. A tingle of awareness skittered along my spine a moment later. And when he grabbed one of my wrists to hold me still while he slipped his free hand between us and stroked my cock, I knew I wouldn’t last.

“I’m gonna—”

Rory bit my bottom lip, then rested his forehead against mine. “Yes. Do it now. Come.”

He didn’t have to tell me twice. I exploded in a flash of white light. Cum shot over his hand and up my chest. I shook uncontrollably and clung to him like he was the last thing holding me from the edge of a high cliff. Rory pulled me closer when he fell apart a moment later.

We didn’t speak for a while, but the quiet felt natural. Until I ruined it with a dreamy sigh that made me sound like a wide-eyed virgin. “Wow.”

Dammit. I braced myself for a snarky response designed to keep things real. Something to remind me not to fall for my tutor.

“It was pretty fuckin’ ‘wow,’ wasn’t it?”

“Yeah.” I grinned, shifting to give him room when he sat up and plucked a few tissues from the box on the nightstand.

Rory dealt with the spent condom on his junk and then leaned over to lick the cum on my stomach before wiping it cleaned. He waggled his brows mischievously then pulled at my arm, wordlessly requesting me to come closer. I sidled next to him and rested my head on his broad chest. He stilled my hand when I tugged at the bar in his right nipple; then he kissed my knuckles sweetly.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked.

“No, of course not. It was amazing. I admit, I was a little nervous at first. I haven’t bottomed in a while.”

“How long?”

“Over a year,” I replied.

“You haven’t had sex in a whole year?”

I snickered at his incredulous expression. “I’ve done a few things, but not anal. That’s kind of a boyfriend thing for me.”

“Oh?”

I widened my eyes and shook my head. “No, I’m—I’m not suggesting we’re boyfriends now. I’m just very careful about who I’m with. Max was the last person I was close enough with to trust.”

“Hmm. What’s the deal with Max and you? How’d you stay besties with the guy you used to fuck?”

I grimaced. “You make it sound so…creepy.”

“Serial killers are creepy. Asking about the ex you still live with is just keeping it real.”

“Feel free to keep it less real,” I snarked. “It’s not as sordid as you make it sound.”

“From the brief time I met him, I can tell you’re just friends, but you gotta admit it’s unusual. Can you see me living with Mitch and Evan?”

I chuckled. “No. Evan is very protective of Mitch. He wouldn’t share him with you.”

Rory furrowed his brow. “Share? Wait. Are you guys a threesome gone bad or something?”

“Fuck, no! Are you nuts? I’m just the ex. It took me a while to move on, but Max and I are better this way. He’s restless and reckless. The last few months before Sky came along weren’t all that fun. We went from being crazy-in-love high-school sweethearts to college lovers finally living in our own place to…something less.”

“What happened?”

“I guess the thrill was over. He got antsy, and then he met Sky. And that was the beginning of the end for us…as a couple. Truthfully, we’d been in trouble for a while. I just didn’t want to admit it ’cause I didn’t want to lose my friend. We’re good at being friends and roommates. Max is a dork who tends to think with his dick, but he’s a good guy.”

“How long has Sky lived with you?”

“Since July. It hasn’t been bad exactly. Just different.”

“I couldn’t live with my ex and his new guy, even if I didn’t want to be with him anymore. I’d plan massive daily pranks to sabotage their relationship. But I’m an asshole like that,” he said with a good-natured laugh.

“What kind of pranks?”

“My repertoire is endless. Pick a category…food, bath products, or bedroom antics.”

The playful spark in his eyes was hard to resist. I tapped my chin thoughtfully and grinned. “Food.”

“Let’s see…fill his donuts with mayonnaise. Put toothpaste in his Oreos.”

“Ha. Nice try but Sky doesn’t eat junk food,” I said.

“Fuck, no wonder we hate this guy,” he grumbled.

“We don’t hate him.”

“How do we feel about him?”

“We think he’s irritating. But as of this afternoon, there’s a concern he’s got some misplaced jealousy issues too.” I propped myself on my elbow and smiled. “Nicely done.”

“What?” he asked innocently.

“I didn’t realize you were still playing therapist on me, encouraging me to talk about my feelings. You’re tricky…and smart too.”

Rory shot a slow-growing grin at me. “I’m very smart.”

“I like that about you. Your brain turns me on almost as much as your hot bod. Were you one of those geeky kids in grade school who knew all the answers to every math problem?” I teased.

“Nope. I knew the answers, but I was too nervous to say them out loud. I didn’t want to be wrong, so I didn’t try. I’m sure my teachers thought I was a classic underachiever from a broken home. It’s sad that kids tend to put themselves in boxes defined by others. ‘The weird kid,’ ‘the quiet kid,’ ‘the brainiac,’ ‘the jock,’ ‘the nerd.’ In a way, I’m all of those things.”

“I know what you mean,” I said softly. “Everyone has us figured out before we do. Then they get insulted when you aren’t who they expected.”

Rory held my chin and stared into my eyes intently. “Don’t let anyone else tell you who you are. That’s up to you to decide.”

“You’re right.” I kissed his fingers and smiled.

“So who are you exactly?” he joked.

“A closeted gay quarterback who’s scared of what comes next.”

“You’ll work it out. And if you need anything, I’m here for you.” He kept his tone light, but I was touched by his sincerity.

I thanked him, then kissed his nose and his eyelids in a silly attempt to lighten the mood.

“Are you going to teach me everything you know?” I purred, reaching for his half-hard cock.

He pulled me against him and then rolled on top of me. He yanked my arms over my head and rocked his pelvis suggestively, thrusting his cock alongside mine. “Yeah. You’re in good hands, baby.”

I arched my back and hooked my legs over his ass, humming in approval. “Fuck me again. Please.”

Minutes later, when I gripped the sheets with white knuckles as he entered me slowly from behind, I wondered what had taken me so long to give in to this.

Maybe I’d feel a pang of regret later, because surely begging my sexy tutor to fuck me wasn’t my best life choice. However, at that moment it seemed pretty fucking inspired. And he seemed like the best thing that had ever come my way.