Chapter Six
Dakota
He kissed me. One minute I was laying on the concrete sidewalk and the next I was in a death grip and his lips were assaulting mine in the most delicious of ways. People surrounded us, watching our every move, but he didn’t seem to notice they were there, much less care. Every ounce of his attention was focused solely on me and our first kiss.
And, fuck me, but could he ever kiss! Hell, I thought he could kiss. I tried to remember if Evan and I had ever really kissed and my mind was coming up empty. I might not have the experience to be the authority on kissing, but I did know that my lips tingled and every inch of my body had woken up and enjoyed the strange feelings the kiss caused. Years of practice had taught my body to try to become aroused at the slightest nudge in the sex direction but I hadn’t needed to use any mind tricks to make it happen this time. I’d only needed the warmth of Trystan’s lips pressed against mine and I was burning.
About twenty minutes passed and I was still reeling. My lips still tingled and were undoubtedly swollen and red…and more content than they’d ever been. The best way I could describe it to myself was that my mouth had been thoroughly fucked by his tongue, drugging me with desire and leaving me wanting more. Right now, he could ask anything of me and I would be the most willing victim imaginable. Anything. That, of course, scared the fuck out of me. It was that desire to please and be loved that got me where I was today. Lost. Alone. Insecure. All the things I hated about myself.
No, Evan got me where I was today. It was a daily struggle to try to convince myself of that fact. One minute I blamed myself, and then the next, I would lay the blame where it belonged—on Evan. It was Evan’s fault that I’d been forced to leave my school with only one year left. It was Evan’s fault that I was trapped at a new school and I was too damned scared of my own shadow to even attempt to make a friend. It was Evan’s fault that I couldn’t trust another human being enough to accept a cup of fucking coffee without wondering if it was some sort of trap. Taking a deep breath, I realized I could spout this ‘it’s not my fault’ shit twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, but I wasn’t sure if I would ever believe it. There were so many things I should have done differently—so many times I should have been a man instead of a mouse.
Common sense told me it wasn’t my fault and for the few weeks of therapy I’d agreed to, they preached the same sermon to me, as well. My therapist had looked at me and talked to me with a gentleness that had unnerved me to the point that I’d fled every single counseling session I’d attended, and then finally, just stopped going altogether. With an expertise that I’d found annoying, she would poke and prod my brain and heart until I would talk myself into a corner. Time and time again, she would maneuver my thoughts until I admitted that what had happened wasn’t my fault. Time and time again, I would leave her office and immediately start playing the blame game again.
The question was, I supposed, how much longer would I allow Evan to have control over me? I wanted to end it. I wanted to look at the man sitting behind the steering wheel next to me and see somebody that was gorgeous, funny, and interesting instead of constantly doubting what his motives were. It sounded so simple in my mind, but I wasn’t a fool—overcoming Evan’s abuse wouldn’t be easy. No, not easy, but so fucking necessary.
I would not let him ruin the rest of my life. He’d already taken too much away from me and I vowed, right here and right now, that it was going to stop. No more worrying about what happened in Texas or what still loomed in my future in order to end that chapter of my life for good. No more trust issues just because Evan hadn’t only violated my trust, he had stomped on it and tried to completely incinerate it. No more allowing a man from my past to dictate my future.
Oh hell, I could not do this. Evan would always be there, lurking in the back of my mind and stealing away my happiness. Anyway, even if Trystan wasn’t in some way involved with Evan and what happened back in Texas, he would probably disappear once the chase was over. It had been a challenge to try to get me into bed, but once I was there, he would be ready for his next conquest. What was I even doing here? How could I consider spending the night at his apartment? We both knew it didn’t have a damned thing to do with his threat about my coach. I was here because here was where I’d wanted to be since the first time I laid eyes on him.
“Whatever you’re over there thinking, Guppy, I want it to stop right about now,” Trystan growled from the driver’s seat of his luxury SUV. “I’ve told you I’m nothing like whoever has messed with you in the past. I promise you this is the real thing for me.” He turned and looked at me and I fought not to get lost in his gray eyes but they were so damned warm and inviting. I felt like Hansel and he was the candy cottage. Oh, and I wanted to overdose on candy so damned bad.
“Okay,” I answered, knowing that while I wished my answer meant that I believed him, I knew it didn’t. At least not one hundred percent…or fifty percent. And none of those percentage points were his fault.
“No, not okay, Gup. I can tell you’re just saying that to shut me up. Listen, I’m not going to lie to you about this—I want you in my bed, beneath me and taking my cock like a good little boy. I want that so damned badly but I want more than that from you. I want to get to know you. I want to know what makes you smile and what makes you angry. I want to know what your favorite foods are and I definitely want to know how you eat so damned much and stay so damned pleasantly lean. I want to know your family. Hell, I want it all with you.” He let out a frustrated laugh. “You’re a tough one, though. I hate to admit it, but I have never been stuck on first base before in my entire life. Ever.”
I rolled my eyes but his words are weaving a magical spell around my heart. I wanted those things, too. I’d always wanted them and at one time, I’d been silly enough to think I would get them—that I was worthy of them. Now, I felt more like damaged goods that belonged on a clearance rack in a discount store. I needed to have an “as is” sticker plastered across my heart. Trystan, in all his football glory and bright future filled with glam and glitz, deserved something so much better by his side.
Fuck it. I might not be his future, but I could be his present. You know—just some fun before he leaves college and hits the big time. Let’s be serious, could my heart be any more damaged than it already was? What was one more meaningless fling? I hadn’t always felt like a good fuck was all I was worth, but Evan had given me that parting gift before I pulled my disappearing act.
“Stuck on first base? You just got to first base, asshole,” I tried teasing and was thankful when I saw the huge grin spread across his face. He had dimples and they made my heart somersault inside my chest. Trystan Matherly was as close to perfection as a sexy male body could get. From the corner of my eye, I watched as his muscled arms maneuvered the steering wheel as we flew through traffic like we were the only ones on the road. Just like on campus, folks just seemed to get out of his way.
I loved his tattoos. He was covered in them and they were hotter than fuck.
“What the hell is first base, anyway? I thought it was courting your pretty ass. Is it something else?” He asked.
I snorted out a laugh. “Courting? Who the hell says that anymore?”
“My mommy, so don’t knock it Guppy,” he countered with an easy smile. “Yes, courting. I have changed how I dress because Alex said I needed to mix things up since you clearly weren’t showing any interest with my usual attire. I hauled my ass out of bed to bring you breakfast because as I’ve been spying on you, I’ve learned eating is one of your favorite things.”
When I opened my mouth to comment, he broke in and said, “Yes, spying. I have spied on you. Followed you around campus when you didn’t know it. Snuck into your swim practices and eye-fucked you in your skimpy speedos. There’s a pretty good chance I’ve considered putting a video recorder in the locker room so I could watch you shower but Alex threatened to turn me to the authorities if I went that far.” He shrugged playfully. “He’s weird about that whole recording people in compromising positions for some reason.”
“That is weird,” I joked back. I was still amazed at what happened to Alex a few months back and how well he handled it. I would have…well, I would have run away and hidden somewhere, just like I was doing right now. “Wonder why he would feel that way?” I couldn’t believe I was making a weak effort at joking with him. It felt foreign coming from my mouth.
“Probably that blasted extra ten pounds the camera adds.”
“Yeah, I bet that is it.” Like Alex had anything to worry about. He might not be as beefy muscular as Trystan, but he was layered in lean, mouth-watering muscle from head to toe.
“Sooooo…about that first base thing?” Trystan said. “Think I might ever get to second base?”
I thought about telling him I was a sure thing at this point—the second I agreed to come home with him, my decision had been made. Instead, I said, “You’re getting closer.”
“Yessss!” He cheered as we pulled up next to a red light.
A car full of testosterone pulled up next to us and I immediately tried to hunker down in the seat so nobody would notice I was in the car with Trystan. It was what Evan always demanded and when I didn’t move fast enough, there was hell to pay. I turned my head away from the window where the guys were and tried to make myself as small and invisible as possible.
“Tank! How it goes, man?” One of the guys in the car shouted as their window slid down.
“What the hell are you doing, Guppy?” Trystan asked me. “Are you getting sick again? Do I need to take you to the hospital? What’s going on?”
The dudes in the car started yelling at him again and he snapped, “Shut up a minute, guys! My future boyfriend may be sick and I can’t hear anything but the shit rolling out of your mouths! Give me a minute.”
Shocked, I looked over at him to see that he was seriously worried about me. He wasn’t trying to hide me or act like I was some hitchhiker he’d picked up along the road. Trystan just told a car full of guys that I was his future boyfriend. Shit, this would be tough to get used to…but I wanted to do it. I wanted to be with somebody that was not ashamed of me.
“Uh…no, I’m good. Just tired,” I lied. The innocent lie sounded so much better than having to explain I was a certified nut case that would probably have one panic attack after another while I tried to get my body and mind accustomed to dating life after Evan.
“Hey! Everything okay, Tank? You guys need some help?”
Trystan eyed me closely, like he knew I’d totally lied to him and like he knew exactly why I’d told the lie. “So, Guppy, do we need any help? My friends would love nothing more than to pull a high-speed escort service to the hospital. They get off on shit like that.”
“Nah. I’m good.” I was so far from good that I couldn’t even see the finish line.
“Wanna wave at them so they know I haven’t abducted you or something as equally bad? That group watches way too much Investigation Discovery television. They’ve probably already got 9-1 punched into their cell phones with their finger hoovering over that last 1.”
He grinned at my discomfort and that was the sexiest damned grin I’d ever encountered in my life. Leaning around him, I offered a stiff wave and nod—it was the best I could do since I was out of practice on being a normal person. Contrary to what folks had told me in the past, getting your head screwed back on straight was not like riding a bike, it didn’t just come back to you.
“Sup! Hey, you’re the swimmer, right? I date one of the girls on the swim team. I have seen you around. You’re pretty damned fast in the water.”
Trystan growled and I fucking glowed from his small act of possessiveness.
“That’s enough. See you guys around.” As a last-minute thought, Trystan added, “Stay away from the Aquatic Center, Daniel. You know I’m the jealous type.”
“Sure thing, Tank. Sure thing.” The guy flipped Trystan what I assume was to be interpreted as a ‘friendly’ middle finger and they drove off. We made a right-hand turn which told me we’d been holding up our lane of traffic just so Trystan could chitty-chat with his friends. I was not sure if I should be turned on by his arrogance or intimidated by it.
“Did you seriously just tell him he couldn’t come back to the Aquatic Center?” I asked. He was weaving around the traffic again, making me thankful I always wore my seat belt.
“Yeah, but he won’t listen to me. I didn’t actually intend for him to stay away, I just wanted to make sure everybody in that car knew you belonged to me. Word should get out quickly with those gossipy-girls. Once everybody knows, I won’t have to beat up every asshole on campus that looks at your cute ass.”
I snorted out another laugh and made a mental note that I needed to work on that habit—no snort laughs. Not cool. “I don’t think you’ve got much to worry about. I’ve been here four months and trust me, they’re not lined up outside my dorm room.” I didn’t comment on the ‘me-belonging-to-him’ remark because I didn’t want to give him the opportunity to take it back. It had settled quite nicely inside of me.
“The only reason guys are not lined up is that big ‘No Trespassing’ sign you have imprinted on your forehead. You send out some serious don’t come near me vibes, Guppy.” He laughed softly as we pulled into a parking garage.
“I must not be—you were pretty persistent with your, uh, trespassing.” Well fuck, he lived in the nicest condominium complex in the area. That figured. I was so far out of my league with Trystan Matherly. His Hummer slid into a parking space between a wicked sports car and a righteous looking Indian motorcycle. I guess all the residents had money falling out of their pockets when they walked. Maybe I could follow them around and pick up their leftovers?
“Oh, Guppy, I’ve only just begun to trespass on that hotter than fuck body of yours. The very second your pretty green eyes give me the pretty green light, I’m going to fuck you so damned good that you won’t remember why you don’t like me.” He turned and looked me in the eye. “Why don’t you like me? I think I’m pretty likable.”
“Of course, you do,” I answered with a soft laugh. I thought he was damned likable and lickable, myself, but there was no reason to let him know my cock got hard every time I was within a ten-mile radius of him.
He pulled the keys out of the ignition and turned around in his seat to stare at me. I wanted to squirm but managed to remain perfectly still. “I’m being serious, Guppy. If you don’t like me—if you aren’t interested in anything physical and emotional—I need you to tell me right now.” Before I could even begin to conjure up an answer, he continued, “Because when we go up that elevator and walk into my home, I need to know where I stand. I play football and I like to have a good game plan when I hit the field. I do not like getting caught with my pants down, so to speak. So I need to know which game plan to follow with you.”
I didn’t really get the football analogy but I was sure it might have turned me on even more if I had understood. Was I ready for this? Could I even give Trystan one good night of sex without totally losing it and revealing how fucked up I really was? Even more worrisome, what would he say if I told him I was not at all interested? Would I be walking back to campus in the snow?
“Game plan?” I asked cautiously. Insecurity was a bitch. A normal person would know without any doubts at all that Trystan had been pursuing them over the past few weeks. I was not normal—I was that insecure bitch.
“If you tell me you aren’t interested, I’m going to take you up to my condo and treat you like I would any of my other friends. You will get a warm bed, a cold beer, and if you’re in the mood or interested, you can let me kick your ass in video games. I’ll check on you ever so often like I promised the EMT and in the morning, I’ll take you back to campus.” He frowned as he studied my face. “Shit, Guppy, it’s not like I’m going to make you walk back to campus if you aren’t interested in having sex with me.” And then, just like that, his frown morphed into a wicked smile. “But I’m not going to lie to you—I’m not giving up on us. You’re mouth, as fucking perfect as it is, won’t give me the much-needed green light, but your eyes and body are definitely sending the proceed with caution yellow light.”
Fuck, it had been so long since I let anybody touch me. I wanted him so fucking badly that my body was screaming for me to toss caution to the wind and just have some fun. Of course, the cynic in me wondered if that was why I was infatuated with Trystan—because he was the first person since Evan who had actually given me the time of day. Was I willing to fall into his bed because I was hornier than hell?
No, it was not that. I wanted him.
“And if I’m interested?” I spoke the words so softly that I wondered if he’d even heard them. He didn’t keep me wondering very long.
“Then we definitely move to my other game plan—my favorite game plan. It is where I take you upstairs and start to show you all the reasons why I’m worth letting your guard down. I’m funny—well, at least I think so but I’m pretty sure not everybody agrees, but they’re entitled to be wrong if they want to. I’m filthy rich because my parents are filthy rich. I have a damned good job prospective because rumor has it I’m number one pick in the upcoming NFL draft. I’m not hard on the eyes because I spend most of my time in the gym and my best friend is a metrosexual, so he insists on keeping me plucked and glammed up.” He shrugged and a hint of a blush stained his cheeks. “The tattoos and piercings are probably a bit excessive, but it has been a form of rebellion for me. Anyway, there is no taking them back, so I have to just rock them to the best of my ability.” One of his hands reached over and started caressing my fingers. “And when I care about somebody, when I let them into my life, I cherish them. I protect them. I give them everything I have to offer. When I give, Dakota, I give everything I’ve got to that person.”
His words scared me to death. Sure, those were all the things I’d wanted at one time, but had all but given up on ever finding it after Evan. I was terrified that I would never be ready to travel that road again—too much damage behind me to be able to look ahead. I struggled to find the words to tell him but they would not come. The trust was not there for me to be able to reveal the darkness that lurked inside of me. As I sat thinking, he reached across and tapped his finger against the center of my chest.
“I want this, Dakota,” he whispered, referring to my heart.
The air whooshed out of my lungs. Why couldn’t Trystan have happened six years ago?
“What if that isn’t available, Trystan? I don’t think it is. Can you handle just a physical relationship?” I hated the words that came from my mouth—they morphed me into the thing I hated the most in the world. Sex was all Evan had wanted from me and like a total douche, I’d given it to him, hopelessly waiting for him to fall madly in love with the rest of me. I watched disappointment and hurt flicker across his gray eyes but those emotions vanished in an instant and were replaced with what looked to be sheer determination. I was not sure if I should be elated that he wouldn’t give up on me or if I should just walk away before both of us ended up hurt. I could not entangle Trystan in the shitshow that lay ahead in my life. The publicity alone could destroy his future football career, Heaven knew it had destroyed my chance at the Olympics.
A soft smile spread across his plump lips but it never really reached his eyes. “Well, I guess it’s a damned good thing that I’m good in the sack then. If physical is all you can give me, I’ll call myself blessed and enjoy the ride.”
Ouch. I guess I deserved it.
“Okay, then,” I whispered. I felt like scum. No, I felt just like Evan had always wanted me to feel—like I was only good for sex.
“Okay, then,” he answered, the sadness still lurking in his gaze.
My mind flew back to what had happened a little over an hour ago. Earlier today, I’d been willing to toss any future with Trystan out the window so I could avoid any pain. That was how I dealt with things these days—avoided them. But while the mind might have been willing to end it, the rest of me hadn’t been able to walk away. The last thing I remembered was that I’d been trying to call him. I’d wanted him so badly that I’d been willing to take the risk. Before that, though, there had been the issue with Baxter and whoever was in the dorm room with him. I’d tried to push my way inside, but I couldn’t begin to budge whoever was holding it closed from inside the room. It had been somebody incredibly strong. Somebody who sent me out to the car in freezing temperatures when my clothes were soaking wet. Somebody that maybe just happened to come along and save the day.
“Can I ask you a question?” I said, hating that I was even allowing those thoughts to slink their way into my head. They felt like dark shadows swirling around me, searching for a way inside so they could make me feel insecure and unworthy.
“Of course, Guppy. I’ve tried to make it clear that I’d give you anything within my power to give.”
The words were right, but he looked wary as he watched me. It was amazing, he sounded so fucking sincere but there was no way that could be reality. How could he care enough to offer something so ridiculous? Hell, he didn’t even know me. And, if I was honest, I wouldn’t have liked me either. I’d been present at every one of our encounters. I was rude, unfriendly, and borderline confrontational.
“What were you doing there? At my dorm? Had…had you been inside with Baxter?” The words felt dirty on my lips but I could not have kept them trapped inside my big fat mouth if my very life had depended on it. I didn’t need an Evan to destroy my future, I was doing a damned fine job on my own.
“Baxter?” He sat back with an amazed look on his face. “You’re roommate, Baxter? The one I’m still contemplating killing for sending you out into the cold while he indulged in a bootie call? That Baxter? Why the fuck would I be with him?” The look of amazement turned into anger. “Do you think I sent you out to sit in the cold? You think that might have been me?” He fumed. “Why, Dakota? Why the fuck would you think I would do that?”
Yeah, it sounded stupid now. What in the hell had I been thinking? My answer to his question sounded even more ridiculous. “Whoever was in the room, they were strong—really strong. I couldn’t budge the door. I tried to get in. They…they were just too strong.” Oh fuck, I sounded like an idiot. Of course Trystan hadn’t been in that room. Why would I even think that shit? Because Evan would have done it.
He barked out a laugh but it was not one of his funny laughs. It was an ‘I’m disgusted’ laugh. “Seriously, Guppy?” He shook his head in disbelief. “Here’s a news flash for you, you’re all lean hot muscles that ripple seductively with every move you make and there’s not an ounce of fat on you any the fuck where, but every guy on my football team is stronger than you. Hell, they could bench press your ass without breaking a sweat.”
His muscled body eased back in the leather seat, putting distance between us again. He was going to kick me out. I just tossed good sex out the window because of my insecurities and inability to trust anybody. Nice.
“Listen to me, Dakota, and listen good—I do not for one minute believe all this shit about you just wanting a physical relationship but I’m willing to go with it because lying to yourself obviously makes you feel safer. I’m going to keep trying. Hell, I’m going to give you everything I’ve got because the thoughts of me and you together—the very fucking idea makes me feel high.” His fingers raced through his dark hair in frustration before he continued, “But so help me God, if you don’t at least try to remove this third person, whoever the hell he is, from between us, I’m going to…”
He paused. “Hell, I don’t know what I’ll do, but seriously, Dakota, he needs to go. Stop measuring me up against him. That’s not fair.”
On one hand, he was right. One the other, life was definitely not fucking fair and that ugly fact was something he needed to get used to. I had to learn it the hard way. Anyway, I couldn’t stop. I would like to and I knew it would be healthier, but I couldn’t. I was sure that I would spend the rest of my life comparing every person to what happened with Evan. I would be looking for the warning signs that I obviously missed the first time around. And, I was sure, I would eventually run everybody off and there I would sit—with nothing but bitter memories of my stupidity. Oh, and the police record—there would always be that little nugget of embarrassment to follow me wherever I went.
“I’ll try, Trystan,” I murmured because trying was the best I could promise. “It…it was a really bad breakup.” Under-fucking-statement of the year. It hadn’t just been a bad break-up. It had been an earthshattering, colossal fuck-up that would eventually lead to somebody going to jail—either Evan or me. Hell, I couldn’t even tell Trystan about it if I wanted to. There was that nice little gag order in place.
His brow burrowed. I was sure he was trying to understand why I was being such a pussy about this but like with everything concerning Trystan, the frown didn’t stick around for long. He was so damned happy and I was so damned unhappy. Well, in all fairness, I’d been unhappy until the point that I started noticing Trystan noticing me. Just knowing his attention was turned in my direction had caused my focus to shift from pathetic moping to excitement.
Excitement was so much better than pathetic moping.
Hell, my heart was singing that Trystan was so much better than Evan. But, at one time, I’d thought Evan was the cherry on top of a giant ice cream Sunday life. Clearly, my judgement could not be trusted.
“That’s fair,” Trystan whispered. “You try to forget the third wheel and what an ass he obviously was and I’ll try to prove how much better I’m than said third wheel. Can we make that work?”
It was hard to tell if he was angry or serious—I would probably be pissed if I had to deal with a third person in a relationship. Even Princess Diana had said that was too crowded and she’d been all sugary sweet.
Without answering, I opened the car door and climbed out. As soon as I stood, the garage started spinning wildly and I had to grip the cold, wet car in order to keep from falling. I would have probably passed out if the icy coldness of the air hadn’t instantly reminded me that my clothes were still damp. I shivered and tried to steady my balance before Trystan noticed anything. The last thing I needed was for him to think I was too weak to fuck. I had pretty much told him physical was all I had to offer so I couldn’t yank it off the table before he got to sample the goods.
No, I didn’t want to diminish my chances. I wanted Trystan Matherly more than I’d ever wanted anybody.
Chapter Seven
Trystan
Dakota climbed out of the car without answering me. Hell, I was in for the fight of a lifetime if I was going to be able to convince him of how damned good we would be together. I was seriously considering reaching across the car and yanking him back inside and into my lap when I noticed his body sway dangerously as soon as he tried to stand. In an instant, I’d yanked off my seatbelt, tore my body from the car, and was standing next to him. He looked pale.
“You okay, Guppy?” I asked as I reached out to steady him. “You don’t look so good.” I watched as a shiver raced across his body and I realized he was probably freezing to death on top of still feeling the after effects of having breathed in carbon monoxide. Without giving it another thought, I hauled him up in my arms, kicked the door closed, and started toward the penthouse elevator. Naturally, he started squirming like a Guppy out of water the instant he was in my arms. Yes, he was solid muscle and felt delicious against me. No, I would not have any trouble at all carrying his one hundred and seventy pound frame. He just clearly was not enjoying it quite as much as I was.
“Put me down, Trystan,” he demanded in an irritated voice. “People might see.”
He gave it a good attempt at wiggling out of my embrace but failed miserably. I was certain he didn’t appreciate my chuckle. “Who cares? I’m the last person to give a fuck about what others think, Guppy. Surely you have picked up on that by now.” I started making my way toward the elevator. He felt so damned perfect in my arms with his lean muscles pushing against mine. His scent tickled my nose and caused my cock to stir to life. I could not quite put a label on how he smelled but it was fucking delicious. Maybe a mix of musk, the outdoors, and just a hint of chlorine? Yeah, there was always a hint of chlorine surrounding him and I had to admit, it was my new favorite smell.
“What if I might care?” He snapped irritably. “Anyway, it makes me feel weak. Just put me down already. The EMT’s said I would be fine. I was just dizzy for a second back there.”
I kept walking toward the elevators. His words were saying one thing but his body was saying something different—he literally melted against my chest. Sure, the melting probably stemmed from pure exhaustion, but I would take what I could get. “Come on, Guppy,” I urged. “Humor me for once,” I pleaded with a smile. “Do you have to win every fight?”
He snorted in disbelief. “Me? You get your way every damned time, Trystan. Eat the breakfast, I ate the breakfast. Walk with me, I walked with you. Stay all night with me, I’m staying all night.”
The elevator doors slid closed as he kept grumbling and I quickly slid my card into the slot for my Penthouse suite, nodding pleasantly at his arguments the entire time. If I timed this right, the door to my apartment would be opening before he finished reprimanding me for every dishonorable deed I’d committed since meeting him. On one hand, I loved listening to his sexy voice even when he was attempting to be nasty. On the other hand, I had no idea I’d been so annoying. Was I really that alpha that I had to get my way every time…about everything?
Yeah, I guess I was.
I wanted Dakota and I intended to prove to him that I was worthy of his heart. I was not exactly sure when it had turned from a wicked chase for a new piece of ass to something so much more. I thought about him around the clock, trying to conjure up ideas that would make him accept me. I would be working out at the gym and a stupid smile would spread across my face when I would picture his smile in my mind. His eyes, breathtakingly beautiful, haunted me day and night. I was not a fool—this was so much more than anything I’d ever felt before.
I found myself wanting to know everything about him—from his favorite color to his favorite book. What was his childhood like? When did he know he wanted to swim? Where did he grow up and when could I meet his parents? Before Dakota, I’d really only interested myself in what my lover’s favorite sexual position was. After Dakota, I noticed weird things that I’d never noticed before. The pitch of his voice. The way he walked. How he tilted his head to the side when he was trying to understand what I was telling him. His eyelashes—hell, I noticed his long eyelashes. His fingernails were trim and neat. His smile was sad.
“Are you even listening to me?” He asked in that cute voice that I assumed was supposed to sound mean but failed miserably. “Put me down, Trystan.”
The elevator doors slid open right on cue and I gently eased his feet back to the floor. I kept my arm wrapped around his lean waist just in case he got dizzy again. I started to step off the elevator but was forced to stop when he refused to budge. Blocking the door with my foot, I waited for him to start moving again.
“The Penthouse? Of course, what else would I expect from Trystan Matherly, right?”
His eyes swept the open suite as his feet remained frozen to the floor. I could not tell if he liked what he saw or was angry because I lived in such a luxurious apartment. My family had always been wealthy so it was probably something I took for granted, never really thinking about how lucky and blessed I was. Following his eyes, I looked around the open-air apartment and tried to see things through his eyes. French doors lined one entire wall, revealing the seductive lights of our city. A giant television hung on one wall and plush leather seating surrounded the monster electronic. The marble floors were shiny and immaculate. Everywhere one looked, from wall to wall, there was wealth.
Through Dakota’s eyes I must look like an arrogant, wealthy ass. Well, shit. From the first time in my life, I was ashamed of my parents’ money and how easily I had attained it just by being the fruit of their loins.
“Uh…yeah,” I mumbled. “My parents are pretty comfortable.” I felt a blush stain my face and neck as I stated the obvious.
“Of course they are,” he said quietly as his eyes kept shifting across the room.
I was losing him. I could feel him slipping right through my fingers as he judged me for my material belongings. The worst of it was that he was probably right. I’d always had money and I damn well knew I’d always taken it for granted. I would like to be able to tell him that my folks were wealthy sons of bitches but I spent my portion of their greenbacks doing great things for people less fortunate than myself.
If I said that, I would be a fucking liar. I was sure I hadn’t thought much about anything but myself for a long time…like my entire life. Fuck—it was no wonder he didn’t like me very much.
“Come on, Guppy,” I urged. I was trying to keep the panic from revealing itself through my voice. “Let’s get you inside. The EMT said you needed to get rest for a few hours.” I touched his damp shirt and added, “And you’ve got to still be freezing to death. Come on.” I tugged on his waist and was relieved when he allowed me to pull him completely into my disgusting display of wealth—yes, that was how I was suddenly looking at the same apartment that I’d loved this morning.
“Let me get my shoes off,” he mumbled. “I’m going to make a mess.”
He tugged himself out of my embrace, quickly removed his lace-up boots, and placed them neatly by the entrance. For a second, he looked longingly at the elevator doors that had already closed and locked him inside of my den of wealth and sin. The poor guy looked about as comfortable as a whore in church. He also looked exhausted and weary.
“Shower or bath?” I asked softly. “Either one should start warming you up while I get a fire started.”
He glanced around the room, probably looking for a fireplace and not finding one, but didn’t seem to have the strength to question me. I could literally see the battle going on inside his head. He wanted to run. He wanted to stay. He was too tired to run. He was too scared to stay. He wanted me. He didn’t want to want me.
“Um…I don’t care.” He bit his bottom lip and I had to clamp down on my desire—nothing sexier than a cute guy tugging at his bottom lip, making them even puffier and more enticing. “Shit! I didn’t go to my room and get my stuff. I…I don’t have anything else to wear.” He studied. “Maybe Baxter could run me something over? Hell, maybe he can just come pick me up,” he muttered.
“Well, that is not going to happen,” I countered. “You aren’t going anywhere, Guppy. I’m going to start the water running in the shower and then run down to the car and grab your back pack.” At least I’d managed to throw that in my car before leaving the campus. “Just leave your stuff outside the door and I’ll have the dry-cleaning service take care of it tonight. Everything will be fine in the morning.” I tugged him down the hall toward the master bedroom and bath. That was where he would find the fireplace I’d mentioned earlier. Fuck, I was a disgusting rich prick.
He stood frozen outside my bedroom door but I kept pulling and he finally relented, but I was certain I only won the battle because he was too tired to fight and his options were limited. We both knew Baxter would not bring him a damned bottle of water if he were on fire.
Thankfully, the cleaning crew had been in today, so the place was not a total wreck and my sheets would not smell like I’d gone to bed without showering…since sometimes I went to bed without showering. Everything looked immaculate and I was once again ashamed. My fucking bed was probably bigger than his dorm room.
“The bathroom’s through here,” I said as I led him across the room. Inside the bath, I switched on the hot water and set out some towels. “Everything you need should be there but just give me a yell if you can’t find something. I’ll be back up in a few minutes,” I told him. “Try not to pass out or anything, okay?”
Okay, so I was not the comedian I thought myself to be. Alex had tried to tell me that a million times, but I’d dismissed his warnings as ludicrous.
“Oh, wait.” I hurried back into the bedroom and pulled out a pair of boxer briefs from my dresser drawer. Nice, they said ‘eat me’. I dug around for another, not as disgusting pair, and hit pay dirt with some solid black skivvies. Back in the bathroom, I said, “These will probably swallow you whole, but it’s the best I can offer until dry cleaning can take care of your stuff.”
He arched a brow but didn’t say anything—just took the flimsy piece of fabric out of my trembling hands and laid them on top of the towels. Yes, my hands were trembling because I was fucking nervous. Why was I nervous? Who in the hell knew? I’d brought plenty of men and women to my apartment, fucked them silly, and sent them on their merry way with a satiated grin. Being here with Dakota was so different—meant so much more for some reason. I felt like I was standing on the edge of an abyss and was about to swan dive straight in to the unknown. Shit, I hoped it didn’t turn out to be a belly-flop.
I’d never been in love before so I wasn’t sure what the symptoms were or if I was suffering with any of them. I’d loved lots of bodies, but it had never passed the physical level. I hadn’t even gotten to the physical level with Dakota and I was already feeling things that should have my balls tucking inside of me and hiding in fear. Guys were supposed to fight this feeling, weren’t they? I was not supposed to be excited about the prospect of no longer being able to play the field, fuck who I wanted to fuck, blah, blah, blah.
I was excited.
So the hands were trembling. I was good with that.
“Okay, just lay your stuff outside the door. Take as long as you want but if you start to feel dizzy, you had damned well better yell at me. Got it, Guppy? Yell at me.”
His answer was to shut the door in my face and a second later, I heard the lock twist in place. That should have been disheartening, but I was still grinning like a fool at the fair as I scampered back through the apartment and to the elevator doors. In record time, I’d retrieved his backpack and was back inside. The water was still running and I could hear some swishing around, so I knew he was still good to go. His clothes, just like I’d asked, were neatly folded and laying on the floor outside the door. I grabbed them and headed back through the apartment to grab a dry-cleaning bag. With each step, I ordered myself not to sniff his underwear—that would surely be some kind of violation of trust, wouldn’t it? Would smelling the shirt and jeans be considered bad? I bet it would. I tried to play it cool as I slid the clothes into the bag but I’ll be damned if I was inhaling as deeply as humanly possible in a feeble attempt to catch a whiff of the man I was so smitten with.
Fuck, now I felt dirty.
Well, I might have felt dirty but I also felt like I was floating on air. Dakota was in my apartment with me. At bedtime. While he hadn’t actually given me an open invitation to his body, he hadn’t completely shut me out like he normally did. No, it might not have been a full-on greenlight—more like the yellow proceed-with-caution light but I would take it.
I checked my watch, and noted that he had been in there almost twenty minutes. If he didn’t emerge sometime in the next five minutes, I was going to have to bang the door down. The EMT assured me that he should be fine with the oxygen they had given him, but I was still worried and didn’t intend to leave him alone long enough for something to go wrong. I padded back down the hall and started working on getting the fire going in the fireplace. After only a couple of minutes, the shower shut off and I breathed a sigh of relief.
As I listened to him shuffle around in the bathroom, I replayed the events from earlier in my head. The scary idea that Dakota might have been trying to commit suicide inside his Jeep still lingered in the back of my mind but it really didn’t have much merit. He truly had acted as if he had no clue what had happened to him and then Baxter had backed up why he was in his car instead of his dorm room. I was still furious at that bastard but I would handle that shit later.
There were so many troubling thoughts, so many secrets surrounding Dakota that I was beginning to wonder if I would ever really know the real man. He was a senior that appeared at our school after the semester had already started. He was a senior who lived in a dorm room. His Jeep looked like it was one hundred years old. His clothes were always clean and tidy but his wardrobe was definitely small. He had no friends to speak of and didn’t appear to want any. He went to his classes, to swim practice, the library, the cafeteria, and his dorm room—that was it.
His swim coach handled him carefully during practices, but I could see the frustration in the man’s eyes when he watched Dakota. I could not begin to understand what was going on there. Dakota was clearly the best swimmer on his team, performing far above the rest of the group, but the coach acted like he was not that good. It was as if he was not pleased with Dakota’s efforts, but he would not do anything to push him either. Now I knew the swim coach wasn’t anything like our famous football coach, but he was no fucking cakewalk either. You didn’t get into his position by giving players a pass when you thought they weren’t performing to their abilities. Yet, his Coach was for some unknown reason.
Oh, and then there was the serious shit with the EMT where Dakota’s last name on his driver’s license was not the same as the last name he used on campus. It was not just a name he told people, it was all over his transcripts and everything else the University had listed for him. I knew because I’d done enough research during my early days of noticing him around.
He was either embarrassed that he was gay or he thought I was, which made no sense at all because I was out and proud to anybody that was interested in knowing me. Hell, the media tried to make an issue of my bisexuality early on in my career, but that shit had thankfully settled down once they saw I was not going to let it get to me. Well, that and our coach shut that shit down faster than he liked to handout suicide runs after a bad practice. He might be one of the grouchiest men I’d ever encountered while on the field, but he loved his players and went to bat for them just about every damned day. I thought he was going to line ’em up and start kicking people’s asses over what happened with Alex.
So many secrets. So many potential lies. I knew I was probably getting in over my head and warning bells were sounding loudly throughout my skull, but I didn’t intend to heed their warnings. What had started with me noticing a hot guy and wanting to get to know him better had traveled into something much more important at warp speed. I was not sure at which point I stopped lying to myself and just faced the fact that my attraction to Dakota centered on so much more than just a sexual hook-up. Hell, it was probably when I started noticing things like the way he would smile when he saw a furry animal, whether it be dog, cat, bunny, or squirrel. No, I was pretty sure it was when I looked past his plump lips and emerald green eyes and noticed the haunted, lonely look that dwelled inside of him on a daily basis.
No, this was not a case of me wanting to rescue something broken—that was not my thing. I would like to say I was that kind of person, more like Alex, but I was not. I’d led a charmed life and, unfortunately, that helped mold me into the selfish bastard I was. My thoughts normally focused only on me and what would make me happy. I didn’t like being that way, but I must not have disliked it enough to try to step out of the mold. Well, until Dakota. Where Dakota was concerned, I worried about everything surrounding him. I wanted to keep him safe. I wanted to see another glimpse of his soft smile. I wanted his eyes to twinkle with laughter. Hell, I wanted to fuck him senseless. Yeah, that was what I wanted most of all.
Which, of course, brought me to my immediate problem. I was sure that Dakota had finally decided to just throw in the towel and join me in a fuckfest. What was the problem, right? It was actually a two-fold problem. First, I wanted him in my bed because he wanted to be there—because his body craved what my body could give him. Second, my interests in the bedroom tended to lean toward the darker side of sex. I liked it rough—really rough. While I found I was not interested in all the protocol and shit that Alex and Lincoln were involved in, I did like it rough. I liked giving my lover a good hard spanking before, after, or while I was fucking them. I liked toys—all sorts of sex toys, especially the kind that pushed my lover’s limits. I wanted my sex to be hard and fast and the more they whimpered and moaned, the more I was turned on.
I was sure rough sex was not going to be Dakota’s cup of tea, sample of choice, or devilish delight. He looked more like the type of lover that would want to be pampered and made love to. Fucking and making love were definitely two different things. Well, I guessed they were. I was fairly certain I’d never made love but I’d gotten the fucking down to an art. So the final question was whether or not I thought I was going to be able to curb my appetite in order to lure and keep Dakota in my bed.
When he stepped out of the bathroom wearing nothing but my skivvies, I decided that I was damned well going to try. I was going to do what the fuck ever I have to do to make this man mine. He was gorgeous—from head to toe, absolute gorgeous. Every inch of him was chiseled, lean muscle. It was not the chunky shit I saw in the locker room. No, this is more like a work of art. The lines and definition were both graceful and powerful at the same time. I felt my mouth go dry and it took every ounce of my willpower to keep my ass planted on the foot of my bed instead of racing across the room and yanking him into my arms.
I took a deep breath and an even deeper swallow before saying, “Did the shower make you feel better? Oh fuck, Guppy, you’re fucking gorgeous.” Wow, way to sound like a horny asshole.
With a determined look in his eyes, he shoved away from the door and crossed the room. He stopped a few feet in front of me. He was nervous as hell and it was cuter than fuck. Right then and there, I decided I was going to keep him.
“Uh…did you get my backpack?” he asked.
Okay, there went my wet dream. I was sure I’d already pictured him dropping to his knees between my legs and taking my cock in his mouth like the pretty little submissive lover I would like him to be. Instead, it looked like we’re going to do some homework. Fuck. I didn’t do homework.
I guessed I would tonight.
“Got some homework to catch up on?” I asked as I stood up and walked over to grab his backpack. I glanced down and was not at all shocked to see my cock was clearly outlined in my tight jeans. I was already hard and had started to leak, and that was just from seeing him wearing my underwear. I could not help myself—his legs were long and lean, muscled in all the right places. His pecs were defined and I wanted to run my tongue along each and every dip and valley. Oh, and not a spec of hair…just the way I liked it. I guess I could thank his swimming for that and I admitted I would be humbly in the sport’s debt for the remainder of my life.
“Nah, I’m good with classes right now. I, uh, I need to take my medicine.”
He reached out to take the bag from my hand and I could see he was trembling slightly. A polite person would look away and give him some privacy, but I was again faced with the fact that I was more of a selfish, worry-about-what-I-think-is-important type of guy. I watched as he pulled out two pill bottles, dropped the backpack, and headed into the bathroom for a glass of water. I followed—like a nosy ass.
“You sick?” Yeah, none of my business.
“None of your business,” he snapped as he popped two pills in his mouth and chased them with a handful of water. A look of agony crossed his face as he swallowed the tiny pills, confusing me even more. When he turned around to find me still watching him, still invading his privacy, he rolled his eyes and growled, “I’m not contagious or anything. Stop worrying about whether I’m a clean fuck or not.”
That was so fucking far from what was worrying me. Actually, that thought had never once crossed my mind and it kind of pissed me off that he was accusing me of it. Kind of. It also made me sad that that was the first place his mind went to. “I wasn’t worried about that, Guppy. I was worried about you. It may not be any of my business, but I can’t stop myself from wanting to make it my business. I just hated the thoughts that you might be sick, especially since you nearly froze your ass off a little over an hour ago. Hell, Dakota, you were outside in freezing temperatures with soaking wet clothes on.” My worry level started to escalate. When did I become this person? This worrying mother type of person? I was a fuck’em and leave’em type of bed partner. Except at this moment, I was wondering where in the hell my thermometer was. Do I even have one? Maybe it was a rectal? Shit, why did my head do that kind of messed up shit? Ashamed, I started toward him with my hand out. “Do you have a fever?” I intended to place my palm against his forehead like my mother always did with me, but he jerked away like I was coming at him with a chainsaw.
I thought he was going to punch me but then his face morphed into something else—something incredibly pretty and intoxicating. He smiled. Do not get me wrong—it was not a big, split the face smile like he got when he saw a dog, but it was the best I’d ever gotten. I literally thought I might melt right at his feet right inside my bathroom. Not cool.
“I don’t have a fever, Trystan. I’m fine. Uh…thanks for asking.”
He stammered over the last words, as if saying something nice to me might very well choke him to death. It made me grin from ear to ear. I didn’t care that he didn’t want to like me, ’cause he was starting to like me in spite of himself. I should have never doubted my powers of seduction. Yeah, I still had it!
“Okay.” I let my hand drop to my side, which was probably a good thing. I would not have known if he’d had a fever or not. “So…you ready to call it a night? The EMT said you would probably be exhausted.” I turned and motioned toward the bedroom. “I’ve got everything ready. Fire is going. Sheets are clean because the cleaning service came in today.” Hell, I was blabbering like a nervous virgin. “Yeah, I’m sounding like an idiot, right?”
He tilted his head and studied me like a science project that was going way wrong. “No, you’re not sounding like an idiot.” He crinkled his nose. “You’re sounding like this is your first time to have sex.” He took a step in my direction and I literally took one backward.
“Am I going to be your first, Trystan Matherly?” Another step. “Did you light some romantic candles for us? Condoms? Lube? Rose petals on the bed?”
Okay, now he was just fucking with me. I had to pull my shit together and let him know which one of us was the boss in the bedroom. Me, that was who. My eyes strayed down to his rippled abs and the sexy V that started at his hipbones and led downward, disappearing into my underwear. I would never fucking wash those things again. Oh, yeah, back to me being the boss.
“Shut the fuck up, smart ass,” I teased. “You’re not going to be my first because I’ve bedded half this campus and because we aren’t having sex tonight.”
I smiled as he snorted in disbelief before mocking me with a snide remark.
“Yeah, right. Sure we aren’t.” He topped the words off with a sarcastic wink and another roll of his eyes.
“Don’t get me wrong, Guppy,” I started explaining. “We’re going to have sex. Plenty of sex. More sex than your sweet ass can probably handle. We’re going to have hard and fast sex and we’re going to have soft and slow sex. I’m going to make you whimper, moan, and writhe. You’re going to beg me not to fuck you so hard and then you’re going to beg me to fuck you harder.” I closed the distance between us, back in my groove since we were focusing on sex instead of emotions and sappy shit. I was good at sex. I had no fucking idea how good I was going to be with a relationship, but I was willing to give it a try and walk the plank for Dakota. Hell, I was beginning to think I would do anything for him. I could not begin to explain it, but the urge to protect and love him could not be ignored. My soul would not allow it. My hand reached up and toyed with a strand of his silky, dark blond hair. “We’re going to do all that…but not tonight.”
He tried to step back but found himself blocked by the sink. I watched his eyes widen when he realized there was no escape and my cock instantly responded to the touch of fear that danced in his eyes. Shit, I was going to have to be careful with my darker urges. All I wanted to do was claim his puffy lips with my own, dominate his mouth and then his body, but I knew I needed to move slower. Be softer. More gentle with my delicate Guppy.
“Why? Why not tonight?” He finally asked. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down nervously and his eyes, dark with fear and desire, kept darting to my lips. He tried so hard to act immune to my charms—like the chip on his shoulder wouldn’t allow him to succumb, regardless of how much he wanted to. He failed.
“Because I’m worried about you, Guppy. The EMT said you might feel weak, dizzy, and a little disoriented. When I fuck you, I want to know that I’ve got all of you right there beneath me.” I inched closer to him, my lower half bumping against his, and pinned him to that sink. Without much effort on my part, I nudged his legs apart with my knee and then settled my body between them. Even through my jeans, I could feel the heat of his cock and balls radiating through the thin layer of cotton between us.
“You’re joking, right?” He asked softly. “Surely you’re joking, Trystan. I’m fine. I know my body. I was not in the Jeep that long. No damage done. This is the best you’re going to get from me. Take it or leave it.”
Wow, somebody was getting snippy when not getting their way. I’d like to tell myself it was just because he was so horny for what my body could give him, but I suspected it is more like he had already made the decision to let me fuck him. I think he was afraid of what might happen if he didn’t go through with it. I would also venture a guess that he was terrified of what we might do if we weren’t fucking. He didn’t look like the type to open his heart and share his deepest secrets with anybody. I didn’t care—I was getting those secrets from him. I was going to give him mine and I was going to take his.
“Ah, Guppy. You seem to be a bit confused about how this is going to work between us. I’m the top. You’re my pretty bottom. I issue the orders and you gladly obey them.” I shrugged playfully, ignoring the red blush staining his cheeks…and the steam coming out of his ears. “I’m going to take you, soon enough. Just not tonight.”
He barked out what was probably supposed to be a laugh but sounded more like a hysterical giggle. “What the hell am I doing here then? What the fuck, Trystan? You follow me around campus like a homeless puppy dog in heat, bring me food, sneak into my practices, and save my fucking life but when it comes down to it, you decide we aren’t going to fuck?”
He shook his head like he thought I was a freak of nature but there was also a panicked look swirling around in his green eyes. When he had told me downstairs that physical was all he could offer, he had truly believed it. I didn’t, but he did. I guessed it looked like I was going to have to prove him wrong. I had moved well past the idea that I only wanted him for a bedroom romp. Sure, I’d tried convincing myself of that in the beginning, but when the truth kept smacking full across the face over and over again, I’d finally admitted to myself that there was something different about my obsession with Dakota.
I bumped my hips against his, allowing my hard cock to show him just how badly I wanted to be inside of him. When he felt my hardness, he sucked in a breath, but didn’t say anything—just kept glaring at me like that pretty little pout would make me change my mind. “You aren’t listening, Guppy. I told you we were going to fuck, but we’re not going to do it until I feel confident that you’re feeling better. You’re here with me now and I’m going to do everything in my power to get you to stick around long enough to get to know me.” His muscles felt delicious against me and my body was screaming WTF to the words coming from my mouth. “And to answer the question about what the hell you’re doing here if we aren’t going to fuck—you’re here because your fucking roommate is a fucking douche for locking you out of the room just to get a piece of ass. Don’t get me wrong, I have sexual plans for you—dark, dirty sexual plans, but even if I didn’t, I wouldn’t have allowed you back into that dorm room after that asshole pulled what he did. That’s why you’re here.” I could not stand it another second. Before he could even think about answering me, my hand reached up to grab a handful of his silky hair and I used that grip to tilt his head to the side. When his throat was exposed, I dropped my lips to the heated skin and started placing kisses in every spot I could reach.
Fuck, he tasted as good as he looked. When I heard a soft whimper escape from his lips, my kisses turned more urgent as I took what I wanted from him. My other arm wrapped around his lean waist and yanked him against me. When I found an obviously sensitive spot on his shoulder and bit down, his long legs wrapped around me. Our cocks pushed against each other through the thin layer of clothes between us and I could feel the heat of his rigid outline.
Fuck, this had to stop and it had to stop now or I wouldn’t be able to stop. From the way Dakota was dry humping my crotch, he didn’t intend to stop. Moving my hands until I had a good grip on his bubble ass, I easily lifted him off the edge of the sink where he’d been resting most of his weight and carried him out of the bathroom and to the bed.
He wasn’t saying anything, but his breathing was labored and his heart was pounding within his chest so hard I could feel it bumping against me. Not once had he offered to kiss me back, but at least he hadn’t tried to pull away from me when my lips assaulted him. After easing him down onto the bed, I stepped back to admire the shy, quiet man that had woven some kind of spell around my heart…without even trying. He looked breathless and fucking hot. The tiny underwear I’d loaned him barely contained his hard cock and there was already a small wet spot on the front. His abs, so perfectly defined and built for performance, glistened with a fine sheen of sweat. His pecs begged to be touched and his nipples, a nice rosy shade, were puckered and calling my name.
His skin, although flushed with arousal, was pale against my dark navy sheets. Funny, I would have imagined him to have a golden tan since he spent the majority of time in the pool…but then again, the pools were generally of the indoor variety. My eyes were transfixed by the differences in our appearance—mine a dark bronze I attributed to a small amount of Hispanic heritage in my genes, covered in tattoos and piercings, and topped off within enough dark hair to be sexy as fuck. My Guppy, God bless him, was my opposite and sheer perfection in my eyes. The ying to my yang. The Bert to my Ernie. He was everything I deemed sexy all rolled up into a lean package of masculine yumminess. His pale skin was unblemished with any tattoos or furry chest hair. Apparently, swimmers even waxed their gorgeous legs because there was nothing there to block my view of each and every defined muscle. I couldn’t help but wonder if he paid the same attention to his cock and balls—fuck, I could only hope and pray.
“Stop staring at me. You’re making me nervous,” he said quietly, interrupting my eye-fuckfest. I pictured myself shaking my head from side to side as I tried to clear the sexy image of him lying in front of me like a buffet ready to be sampled and focused on his words. It was fucking hard. His cock, long and leaking, was putting forth a valiant effort of trying to escape the underwear.
“No need to be nervous with me, Guppy,” I said. “I’m here solely for your pleasure.” I didn’t see the need to mention that I liked to inflict a little pain with that pleasure. Nope. Some secrets were better left tossed into the ocean with a brick secured around them. Guppy was not ready for that shit and probably never would be.
Fuck, I was sure I was licking my lips in hunger as I gazed down at him. My own cock was threatening to rip the zipper of my jeans. If I’d been with one of the ‘usuals’ I picked up on campus or at bars, I would have been stroking my cock right now, letting them see what was coming their way and giving myself some satisfaction at the same time. Since I was not going to get the pleasure of fucking Dakota tonight, there was no need in tormenting myself that way.
“Then pleasure me, for fuck’s sake,” he growled in frustration.
His hand, strong but trembling slightly, reached up to grip my wrist and tried to haul me down onto him. I held strong…because if my body found its way on top of his, there would be absolutely no stopping me from taking what I thought belonged to me.
“In due time,” I mumbled and tugged my hand away. When I’d decided that fucking him tonight might be borderline taking advantage of him, I hadn’t calculated in him behaving so wantonly. I had seriously figured I would have to woo him straight up until the last second before my cock head breached his hole. No, I hadn’t planned a fucking defense because I hadn’t ever dreamed he would be on the offense.
Drop back! Punt! Oh hell, I wanted inside him so damned bad. I would never make it until morning without sinking into his heat. Maybe I shouldn’t focus so much on doing the right thing? Maybe I should focus on giving us both what we so obviously wanted. Maybe I should shut the fuck up and quit talking to myself because it was not helping the first damned thing.
I stepped back. Growled. Adjusted my swollen cock. Growled again.
Finally, I reached down and pulled the blankets over his nearly naked body. A second later, I snatched the covers back, grabbed the waistband of the borrowed underwear and yanked them down his legs, tossed them across the room, and then quickly covered him back up—careful not to sneak a peek.
I snuck a peek. Shit, I was seriously salivating now.
The shocked expression on his face was the only thing that kept me from completely losing it.
“What the fuck was that?” He hissed in confusion. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
I flipped off the overhead light and hoped the inky darkness would help by at least not allowing me to lust. Fuck, the sexy glow from the fireplace only made him more gorgeous. Perfect. I didn’t have a fighting chance.
“Not tonight, Guppy. I’m worried about you.” I explained as I moved around the foot of the bed, removing my own clothes with each unsteady step. When I was down to my own skivvies, a sexy jockstrap that made my ass look nice, I climbed into the bed—on top of the blanket. So help me, when I went under that blanket, I was going inside of him.
I didn’t look over because I knew I would lose it completely if I did, but I could feel him staring at me. I can do this. I can do this. The chant went on and on inside my head. You will not take advantage of him. Keep your cock in your skivvies. Don’t look. Whatever you do, don’t look.
I had to look—just one last glance to tide me over for the remainder of the night.
When I turned my head in his direction, I found that I was one hundred percent correct—he was staring. There was a strange expression on his face, making him even more beautiful in my eyes. Every fucking thing about him just called to my very soul—that ever-present sadness in his eyes…and the heat hiding right beneath the surface. He blinked slowly and kept staring right at me.
My cock kept growing.
“You’re serious, aren’t you?” He finally asked in the darkness. “I’m lying here, completely buck-ass naked, in your bed, practically begging for it, and you’re going to sleep on top of the blankets?”
“I’m.”
His eyes widened and then closed completely. I could see movement, erratic and wild, beneath his eyelids. After a few seconds, he opened them back up and said, “Thank you, Trystan.” Then he shook his head and a small smile teased his lips. “Not many people surprise me but you manage to do it every time I form an opinion about you.”
For a fleeting second, I was afraid my heart was going to burst right out of my chest. First, he had graced me with one of his rare smiles and then he followed up with a compliment? It was just about more than I could handle. Being cocky was not very attractive or probably at all safe where Dakota was concerned, but I felt like I’d moved up on his shit-scale by leaps and bounds tonight. Of course, I’d started at the bottom, so I was sure I had plenty of room for improvement in his eyes. Hell, in my eyes, too. I realized I was a spoiled rotten, borderline piece of shit that focused only on my own pleasure, but I was also damned sure that Dakota could transform me into something better.
“Humph…did you determine I was worthless on your own or have you heard bad things about me around campus?” Unfortunately, I was sure whatever he had heard about me mingled in gossip was probably true and the largest percent of it was probably bad. I was not a mean person, I just didn’t treat my lovers very well after I was finished. My problem was that when I’d finished with sex, I was always finished with them.
He released a cute snort. “Nah, I did that all on my own. Everybody on campus is madly in love with you. I tried to start a let’s-hate-Tank fan club, but I could not get anybody to place membership. Trust me, I tried.”
I doubt he tried—he was too sweet and he didn’t talk to anybody else from best I could tell. I was pretty sure he was joking with me. Almost sure. He might have done it.
“Why? I’m fairly certain I’ve always tried to be nice whenever you’ve been around. I had to work hard at it, but I tried to hide my wicked ways so you might consider giving me a chance.” This felt nice—lying in bed next to him and talking. I could listen to the sexy tone of his voice for hours upon hours. Of course, I would rather be fucking him into the mattress but this was nice, too.
“Because guys like you’re never this nice,” he answered quietly but then tore right into something I was sure was an attempt to deflect from his somber words. “Anyway…what do we do in bed if we aren’t going to fuck? I didn’t take you for a cuddle bunny, so what’s on the agenda for the evening?”
“Talk.”
“Uhhgg. I hate that. What’s your back-up plan? I’m not good at talking and to be completely honest, it isn’t something I’m interested in improving on either.”
“Sorry, Guppy. That’s all I’ve got.” Growing bold, I turned on my side so I could see him better. It might lead to my eventual demise, but I clearly must love torturing myself for my own entertainment. “So…tell me about Dakota whatever your last name really is? Why don’t you like to talk? Why don’t you like me…or guys like me? What’s your favorite color? What’s your major? Cats or dogs?” I sound like an idiot but I really do want to know all those things and so much more. Unfortunately, I could literally see a shutter close over his green eyes, blocking me out from anything that might be considered personal.
After a few seconds and what must have been an inner struggle of some kind, he said, “You heard my real last name and I want you to forget it. Don’t ask me why because I can’t tell you—that shit is off limits. Okay?”
I nodded because I didn’t really have any other choice. He was not sharing.
“I don’t like talking because I don’t like getting close to people and mindless chatter usually leads to that, so I avoid it like the plague. I have some trust issues and they’re what they’re—you have to either deal with them or kick my ass to the curb.”
“I’ll keep your ass, thank you very much,” I said quickly. “I have plans for that ass, now keep going.”
“I don’t like you because I liked you too much—it’s dangerous and against everything I believe in.” He shook his head. “I still can’t believe I’m here. This isn’t me. I don’t do this—not anymore. Never again.”
“Hey,” I argued softly. “Whatever happened, it wasn’t me, okay? Give me a chance to prove I’m different.” Oh, fuck, I hope I’m different. I wanted to be responsible for putting a fire back into his eyes, not make them even sadder. Clearly he had dealt with a bad breakup in the past. Unfortunately, I was the King of breakups. No, that was not exactly true. I didn’t breakup because I didn’t start up relationships. I fucked—nothing more, nothing less.
Until Dakota.
“I’m starting to see that,” he agreed reluctantly. “It…it was a really bad breakup, Trystan. I’m messed up because of it. You probably need to run away. Fast. Really fast. I’m fucked up.”
My mind immediately raced to the incident with his Jeep and the carbon monoxide poisoning. Had he done that? Was that the kind of messed up he was alluding to? If that was it, was I the type of person that could handle something like depression dark enough to make someone attempt suicide? I wanted to be that person for Dakota but I doubted I had the strength or integrity to be what he deserved and needed.
“Scared you, didn’t I?” He asked quietly. “It’s okay, Trystan. I can leave if you want me to. Trust me on this—I’m not worth it.”
Now, that pissed me off. “Stop saying shit like that, Dakota,” I growled.
For a minute I thought he was going to argue with me, but then the fight just deflated out of him right before my very eyes. When he opened his mouth, he said, “Let’s talk about Trystan instead. He’s much more interesting. Heisman winner? Number one in the upcoming NFL draft? Richer than Ritchie Rich from the looks of things.”
I rolled my eyes. He apparently needed to change the subject, so I let him get away with it. “That’s about all the good there is to me, Guppy. The rest of my personality can be summed up as either asshole or spoiled, arrogant asshole.” I was grinning from ear to ear. “It’s just who I’m.” I didn’t share with him that it was not who I wanted to be, but just who I was.
“I don’t see that.”
I laughed. “That’s because I didn’t want you to see it, Guppy. I’ve been flirting shamelessly with you and since you clearly don’t flirt very often, I’m going to let you in on a secret—you hide your bad shit from the one you’re trying to woo into your bed.”
“Fair enough. So, what does winning the Heisman actually mean? More money? Better opportunities?”
“Hold it—before I bore you half to death with shit about me, I need to set the alarm. We will definitely drift off from boredom when I start talking. What time do you want to get up so I can get you to the aquarium at five?”
“You know we don’t call it an aquarium, right?” He asked with a snort of laughter.
“Guppy’s live in an aquarium, so that’s what I’m going to call it. What time, pretty merman? Four? Four-thirty?” I asked hopefully. Getting up at the butt-crack of dawn was starting to take a toll on my lazy body.
“I don’t have practice in the morning, so no need to set the alarm. We have a swim meet tomorrow afternoon, so we don’t practice.”
My heart thundered with excitement. No early alarm meant more time in bed with Dakota. I was also pretty excited about attending his meet. In my humble opinion, there was not a more intoxicating sight in this world than Dakota in his skin-tight, skimpy speedo. “First class?”
“No classes on Friday,” he answered softly. His green eyes were telling me he knew exactly where my thoughts were speeding toward. “Looks like we could sleep in if you wanted to reevaluate that no-sex rule you implemented for perfectly no good reason.”
When he added a nibble to his bottom lip, I literally groaned in agony. He had the sexiest plump lips I’d ever seen in my life and I couldn’t wait to see them wrapped around my cock. They would look and feel fucking amazing. My body was roaring that I take what he is offering, regardless of the fact that he would probably regret it in the morning. This trying to be a good person and do the right thing for somebody besides me was some serious jacked-up shit. It might not be for me.
He deserved better.
Drawing in a deep breath, I said, “So you want to know about the Tank, do ya? Let me bore you to death with all my dark and dangerous secrets.” So I started talking. At first, it was to try to take my mind off how hot and hard my cock was but then it gradually morphed into something else. He was actually listening to the gibberish I was spewing like it might be interesting. He asked questions and laughed at shit in all the right places of my nonsense life. Gradually I found myself talking about more serious subject matter—like how totally awesome my parents were but how lonely my life had been because of their awesomeness. My father was an all-time favorite quarterback for the Dallas Cowboys and my mother was a Cowboys’ cheerleader. Their romance was nothing short of modern-day fairytale material, their fans and the media ate it up, making their popularity and pocketbooks grow in leaps and bounds. By the time I came along, mother had stopped cheering and was coaching the squad and my father was a few short years away from retirement. One would have thought a new kid, since I did show up late in life, would have been a perfectly good reason to step away from the limelight, bask in your glory, and raise your family. It hadn’t worked out that way though. Dad had turned to sports casting and mom had followed him everywhere he went.
I was not a whiner—I knew they loved me and I’d never wanted for anything. Well, anything material. My worldly possessions had been endless and had known no dollar limits. My parent’s time and attention was a different story altogether. When I was younger, I literally starved for it. I acted up to the point where I could only be described as a complete shithead. When that didn’t work, I tried to be the perfect child. Nothing. Finally, I stumbled upon what gained me at least some of the attention I’d been craving—football. If I could mold myself into the exact image of my father, I drew the attention of the media. When I had the media’s attention, I had the attention of my parents.
I shared all of this with Dakota as we lay in my over-sized bed with a romantic fire burning in the background. Instead of loving his body physically, I whined over my sucking childhood…and he clung to every damned word like it was some kind of hidden treasure. I told him things I’d never told another human being, not even Alex, and it felt fucking good. Sharing this part of myself with him had my stomach and heart doing funny things—like riding a roller coaster. I was terrified of the freefall that I knew is coming, but the thrill was worth the risk.
“Are your parents okay with you being…bisexual?” He asked at one point in my ramblings.
I thought about it, trying to remember if my dad had given me any grief at all. My mother’s reaction was unforgettable. She’d looked at me and said ‘I’m not at all surprised, Trystan. You’re such a greedy little cutie pie. It would be like you to want sex from both men and women!’ My father’s reaction? It had been a bit more mature. He’d lectured me on the fact that leading an openly bisexual life would more than likely place me under the microscope of the media and fans, and wanted to make certain that it was something I wanted enough to fight for. Being young at the time, I’d arrogantly boasted that I didn’t give a fuck what other people thought about me. Yeah…I hadn’t really grown out of that stage yet.
“My parents are definitely okay with me being…me. My mother would claw anybody’s eyes out that dared to say something about her angel. My father, always sporting for the next controversy, supported me then and supports me now.” I shrugged nonchalantly, but realized how incredibly lucky I was to have parents that stood by me—even if they’d started out slow in the parenting department.
“That’s good,” he answered quietly.
“How about you?” I asked.
“My father ditched years ago, so even if he showed back up, he wouldn’t be allowed to give his opinion. My mom is always supportive.” He laughed softly. “I think most mothers have that whole claw their eyes out mentality when it comes to their children.” He relaxed even more against the pillows, but didn’t attempt to get any closer to me. “Tell me more.”
Somewhere around three in the morning, I noticed that my words were a bit slurred and his eyes were blinking slowly. I could normally pull an all-nighter without batting an eye and following that up with classes all day and football practice to top it off. I assumed sharing a portion of your heart with another person must zap a person’s strength away from them.
When I noticed his eyes had been closed for more than a minute, I whispered a soft, “Good night, Guppy.” I was pissed that I didn’t seem to have the strength to keep my eyes open because there was not another damned thing I would rather do than watch this sexy man sleep, but I just couldn’t seem to make it happen. With a jolt, I realized that I was content. For the first time in my life, I actually felt content.
I was drifting off when I heard him say, “Ulcers. The meds are for my ulcers…and depression. Good night, Trystan.”