Page 8 of Accidentally Joining His Cult (Chicago Awakenings #1)

CHAPTER EIGHT

Cody

“C ody, are you straight?” Beck asks, sounding so disappointed.

The truth is, until this morning, I’d never once questioned it. I’ve always considered myself an ally of the queer community—fully supportive and open-minded. But being part of it? That’s never been something I thought applied to me.

I’m twenty-eight years old, and I’ve exclusively dated and slept with women. Being straight seemed like an obvious part of who I am.

I’ve always been able to identify if a man is attractive, but I’ve never looked at one and thought, “I really want to see him naked”.

Until maybe now .

As I had that thought, it was quickly followed by, “I wonder what Beck looks like naked” and my dick is definitely a part of this conversation. It’s been thickening since he slammed the door and backed me into it.

I did have a frat brother who’s gay who used to talk about his hookups very openly, and they always sounded really hot, but talking about sex is always hot, right? It doesn’t matter if it’s with a girl or a guy. That doesn’t sound very straight either. Huh.

Beck is still staring at me, waiting for an answer I’m not sure I can give him. “I thought I was,” I finally choke out.

He somehow looks even more confused. “You thought you were straight?” he clarifies.

I nod stupidly as I continue to think about Beck and all the nerves I’ve had around him today. All of the excitement about seeing him again, and how much I’ve enjoyed talking to him over the last few weeks. Was that just normal friendship stuff… or is something else happening here?

He said that he asked me on a date. And now that I think about it… okay, yeah, that dinner at that fancy restaurant could have totally been a date. And the way we were smiling and laughing the whole time…

Fuck. Are we dating ?

Am I so oblivious that I didn’t even realize I’ve been dating a man?

More importantly, why does the thought of dating Beck make my stomach all fluttery? Do I want to be dating him?

All of these thoughts and questions fly through my head as he slowly takes a seat at the dining table. I’m way too hyped up right now as I think through all of this to sit down, but I go to the table and hold on to the back of one of the other chairs.

“So, does that mean you were questioning your sexuality?” he finally asks, sounding a little hurt as he continues, avoiding looking my way as he stares down at the table. “Was I an experiment, and now that the moment is here, you’ve confirmed that you’re straight?”

“What? No!” I sit down next to him and take his hand, needing him to hear and see me as I say, “The opposite, I think.”

That gets him to look up, and he hasn’t pulled his hand away, so I think that’s a good sign that I haven’t completely offended him. “What’s the opposite of that? You were gay until you went out with me, and now I’ve ruined men for you? Awesome. That’s a real confidence boost.”

Fuck. I’m somehow continuing to make this worse.

“No! Not that! I’ve always thought that I was straight. Up until today, actually,” I admit. I wish that I could explain this better so that he wouldn’t still look so disappointed and confused. “But now that I know you want to kiss me and that we went on a date, I’m reevaluating the feelings I’ve been having around you and about you. I’m realizing that I’m an idiot,” I say with a laugh.

“You’re not the idiot,” Beck scoffs as he stands abruptly. He starts pacing the room, running his hands through his hair.

“I can’t believe I almost kissed you when you’re straight,” he mutters, his voice thick with disbelief. “I really thought you were flirting with me that first day. I thought you were checking me out.”

I stay silent, unsure of what to say as he shakes his head. His voice rises slightly as he continues, “I even thought you were implying I was your type—dark hair, blue eyes—when we were joking about that bartender.” He drops his hands to his sides, looking utterly defeated.

“And now I’m trying to put the blame on you for all of this,” he says, his voice breaking. “God, I’m such an asshole. I’m so sorry.”

He sounds so distressed that I can barely stand it.

I know that I’m not doing a good job of expressing myself right now with words, but I really want him to understand what I’m feeling.

Before I can think about what I’m doing, I’m out of my chair, grabbing the back of his neck, and crashing my lips to his. He’s frozen for a moment before giving into the kiss, opening up for me. His lips are softer than I expected, and the rough scrape of his stubble is surprisingly hot.

I tease his lips with my tongue, wanting him to give in entirely. With a moan, he tangles his fingers in my hair, pulling just a bit until I give an echoing moan, and he finally fights me for control. His tongue is in my mouth, exploring and making my head spin.

There’s no denying that I’m kissing a man as we both attempt to eliminate the space between our hard bodies, grabbing onto each other desperately. The firm muscles of his back and arms are hot as hell.

Why have I never kissed a man before ?

I bite his lower lip before sucking it between mine, and I love how rough we’re being. I seriously don’t know if my dick has ever been this hard from just a kiss. I try to grind my aching cock into him to get some sort of friction, but he pulls away with a gasp.

“What are you doing?” I ask desperately.

“What am I doing?” he echoes, still sounding so confused. Can’t we move on from that part and agree that we should be kissing? “What are you doing?”

“Trying to kiss you, duh ,” I say with some amusement that our answers have swapped in so little time.

“Cody, you just told me you woke up this morning thinking you’re straight, and now you’re making out with me like it’s no big deal!” His voice wavers between incredulity and amusement, like he can’t decide whether to laugh or question everything. “Shouldn’t you be freaking out?”

“Do you want me to freak out?” I genuinely ask. "If I need to have some sort of sexual identity crisis before we can get back to kissing, just let me know. I’ll make it quick.” I give him a cheeky grin.

“I don’t want you to freak out,” he says, ignoring my kissing suggestion, still looking amused but concerned. “But, I also don’t want you to change your mind tomorrow and wish we hadn’t done anything. I don’t want you to feel like I pressured you at all, in any way.”

I smile even bigger at him. He really is such a great guy. No wonder I like him this much.

“Beck, I thought that I was straight because I’d never wanted to kiss a man before today. Right now, I’d very much like to be kissing a man. Specifically you. So, I must not be as straight as I’d previously assumed,” I shrug. “Seems pretty simple to me.”

I’m sure that for many people, this situation would lead to a more significant moment of self-reflection or a possible identity crisis, but I’m not feeling any distress over this.

“Kyla has taught me to just accept things as I learn them about myself, to not let them hold me back from my future happiness. Kissing you made me very happy, Beck,” I tell him. I know that my smile is obnoxious at this point, but I can’t help it. “You didn’t pressure me to do anything I didn’t want to do other than stop,” I tease and quirk my brow.

He finally gives me a small smile in return. “This is so not how I thought tonight was going to go,” he chuckles.

“Me neither,” I agree and join in laughing. “Can we get back to kissing now?” I ask hopefully, stepping closer to him and placing my hands on his hips.

He grabs my hands to remove my hold, squeezing them in his own before meeting my gaze. “As much as I’d love to continue kissing you and so much more, believe me, I really want to.” He takes a deep breath, then goes on. “We need to stop.”

I feel my smile drop, and I know my face isn’t hiding any of my disappointment right now.

“Or at least pause. We need some ground rules,” he continues, and I perk up at the pause clarification. That means we can start again.

Yes, please .

“What ground rules?” I ask, trying to hurry him along.

“Like, if you’re really sure that you want to do this, what this even means?” he says, sounding like he still expects me to back out.

No fucking way.

When I get excited about something, I can’t focus on anything else. And I’m very excited about the idea of making out with Beck again.

“I’m very sure,” I agree, trying to sound confident and calm, but I think I’m too eager.

“So what does that mean to you, Cody?” he looks at me expectantly like it’s my turn to talk. “Do you want to kiss for a while, get used to the idea of making out with a man, and then go to sleep?”

That does sound nice, but based on how hard my dick still is, I’m not sure it will be enough.

“Beck, I just want you . That's all I can think about right now,” I admit.

“Cody, I’m trying to be a good guy here. Act responsibly. But you’re making it very difficult not to throw myself at you.”

“So throw yourself at me,” I agree enthusiastically. I might not have done anything sexual with a man before, but as I imagine what hooking up with him might look like, each image is hotter than the last. I definitely want to have sex with Beck.

Beck lets out a frustrated groan, pulling at his hair before spinning and plopping back into a seat at the table. He gestures to the seat next to him for me to sit down, so I do.

“Cody, my previous partners have all been men very comfortable having sex with other men well before they met me.”

I look down, suddenly worried that my lack of experience will be a deal breaker.

“Cody, look at me,” he says in a firm tone that has me immediately doing what he asked. He waits for our eyes to meet before continuing. “There’s nothing wrong with being curious or realizing that your attraction isn’t what you’d previously thought,” he tries to reassure me. “I’m simply explaining my own lack of experience with this specific situation.”

He pauses briefly, making sure I’m following his train of thought. “I feel like we need to clearly discuss what you would and would not be comfortable with doing. If you do want to go any farther than the kissing, which I think you have already confirmed you enjoy.”

“Yes, very much,” I enthusiastically agree.

Beck lets out another small laugh before trying to relax his smile. “There are a lot of things that you have never done before. Or at least never done with a guy,” he begins, and I nod because I feel like we’ve already gone over that. “I just want to make sure you won’t freak out if I touch your cock or pull out my own. That you won’t run for the door,” he adds.

Hearing him say ‘cock’ makes my own twitch in response.

He really is the best, going over consent like this. Everyone should probably be more focused on it the way he is.

“My dick has been hard since you backed me into the door,” I admit. “Even during this entire, confusing conversation, it has not lost interest in touching you, or you touching it.”

He’s starting to look a little more hopeful, so I continue. “I can’t promise exactly how I’ll react to every situation because, as we’ve established, it will all be new for me. But I trust you. I know you won’t do anything I don’t want.”

“Of course, I wouldn’t. But, if you want me to stop at any point, you need to be comfortable telling me that,” he says with conviction, determined for me to believe him, which I obviously do.

I get up and walk to where he’s sitting, grab his hand, and pull him up to stand with me. Still holding that hand, I place my other on his jaw, meeting his eyes with a playful smile. “Beck, I’d really like to kiss you now. If that’s all that you think I can handle tonight, then I want to spend the night making out like teenagers,” I say with a smirk.

He looks like he’s trying so hard not to smile as he bites his bottom lip, and ugh, I want to be the one doing that. “But, if you can trust me to know my own limits, then I’d like to do more than just make out,” I add.

His gaze drops to my mouth for only a moment before his lips return to mine.

Finally.

The desperation between us is electric. We’re both frantic, grabbing and trying to pull the other closer, hands roaming, exploring the other’s body with urgency. His hands find my ass and squeeze. My mind is racing with ideas of what he might want to do with it and what I want to do with his. Does he ever bottom? Will he want me to right away?

This could be what he was trying to talk about before we jumped in.

Then he grinds his hard erection against mine, and it feels so good that all other thoughts disappear. I feel like I’ve won the lottery. Some sort of sex lottery where my prize is Beck showing me everything that I’ve been missing out on by not being with men.

I can’t wait.