Page 18 of Coming Clean

Connor

M y heart thudded as I watched Jeremy through the window. He looked more stunned than angry, but he hadn’t moved to open the door.

“Can I come in?” I asked.

Finally, he nodded and came toward the door.

As I stepped into the foyer, David appeared like a fucking ghost. I hadn’t seen his car, but he lived close enough to walk.

Jeremy might still be figuring out what the hell he felt, but David wasn’t confused at all.

His red face, the ice in his eyes—he was furious.

Were they together now despite what Jeremy had said? No. Jeremy wouldn’t have done what he did with me if he was with someone else. Right?

“What are you doing here?” David snapped.

I didn’t flinch. “I came to talk to Jeremy.” And you’re not going to stop me.

“We’re having breakfast,” he growled.

Yes, that was a get-the-hell-out if I’d ever heard one, but I wasn’t budging—not unless Jeremy asked me to. I turned to him instead. “I’m just asking for a chance to say what I need to say. Then I’ll go if you want me to.”

David shot Jeremy a look like he expected backup.

“We’d finished eating, actually,” Jeremy said, voice even. “And David needs to go soon.” Then he looked at his friend. “I have to deal with this on my own.”

David nodded, but not before taking a few threatening steps toward me. “You hurt him, Marine, and I don’t care how tough you think you are, I’ll tear you apart. You got that?”

My fists stayed clenched at my sides, but I didn’t move. Starting a fight with David would only make things worse with Jeremy. Still, I hated the smug expression on his face—the one that said he’d be waiting to pick up the pieces when Jeremy kicked me out.

David finally stomped out and slammed the door behind him.

“I’m sorry about last night,” I said, turning to face Jeremy.

“Come on, let’s go into the kitchen,” he said flatly, like he was being polite out of habit. I followed him, growing more uneasy with each step. “If you want some French toast or bacon, there’s plenty left.”

I glanced at the food, and my stomach twisted. No way I could eat right now. “No thanks.”

Jeremy sat down. “Okay, talk.”

I couldn’t sit. Not with this much adrenaline pumping through me. I paced the length of the kitchen, hands still tight at my sides.

“I’ve been with men before,” I began, “but it was always fast, always with the threat of getting caught hanging over us. Then I moved here and… I don’t even know how to explain it.

Coming back to civilian life after everything I saw and did over there—it screws with your head.

I know it’s okay to like men. I’m not on some recon team anymore; this is a liberal city.

But it’s like I shoved that part of myself down so deep that when it came back up… ”

My heart raced. I couldn’t breathe. The edges of my vision started to go dark. No, not here. Not in front of Jeremy. Fucking hell.

He was at my side in an instant, guiding me to a chair. I dropped into it and bent over, head between my knees. At least that was better than collapsing.

“Would it help to have some water?” Jeremy asked.

I managed a nod. If I weren’t so mad at myself, I might’ve laughed. Here we were again—me falling apart in his kitchen, him trying to help.

“I’ll go if you want me to,” I rasped, choking the words past the tightness in my throat.

“I don’t want you to go.” He set a glass of water on the table. “I’ll put this here for whenever you’re ready.”

I sat up slowly and took a few sips, letting the cold water distract and ground me.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” I said. “I should’ve stopped things. But—God—it felt so good, and I’ve wanted you since I first saw you.”

“I knew better than to start something like I did,” he said. “I assumed you were straight, but then after the play, the way you touched me when you were here, I had this crazy idea that maybe I could push you to admit how you felt. It was stupid and childish and insulting and?—”

“Don’t say you deserved what happened. You didn’t.” I looked at him hard. “I froze like an idiot.”

He shook his head. “No, you froze like someone who’s scared.”

I wanted to deny it, but that would’ve been a damn lie. “Fine. I’m scared.”

He nodded slowly. “So what happens now?”

We stared at each other. The air between us tightened. My body reacted first—need flooding me, my cock aching. I knew exactly what I wanted to do, but if I acted on it, then lost control again, we’d both end up wrecked.

“I don’t know,” I said.

“What do you want to happen?” he asked, voice low.

My face went hot. “You probably don’t want me to tell you that.”

“I do,” he said. “I really do. God, I sound pathetic but?—”

“No, you don’t.” I leaned forward. “Last night I was afraid—but not of what we did. I was scared of how strong my feelings were. I need this.”

He tilted his head, like he was trying to figure me out. “How can you be so innocent and so tough all at the same time?”

I blinked at him. Was that how I came off? Tough? I didn’t feel tough—not with him. The armor I wore during missions, the calm and cool—that was fake. Most days I felt like I was barely holding it together. “Are you calling me innocent?”

Jeremy moved closer, eyes dark and hungry. "Yes, I am.”

The heat in his voice went straight to my dick. That same look he’d worn yesterday—the one that made me feel like prey and safe all at once—it was back, and I was helpless against it. Did I even want to resist?

“You asked me what I want,” I said, voice rough. “I want you, but you’re a professor. You write poetry and teach Shakespeare. I’m a Marine who cleans houses and hides in the closet. I don’t know if I can be the man you want.”

Jeremy

But he was. Connor was everything I wanted, even if my brain told me this was a mistake. I couldn’t take my eyes off him—he looked so lost, so damn scared. Maybe I was a fool, like David thought, but I wasn’t going to walk away. Not now. “I want you too.”

“Even after last night?” he asked, eyes darting away from mine.

God help me, I still wanted him. Yes, even after last night.

The truth was, I’d been madder at myself than at him.

“Yes,” I said. “I don’t care if we’re different.

I want a relationship where we can be honest about who we are, but…

” I paused. This was my line in the sand, the one I’d sworn I’d never cross, and here I was, toeing it. “I’m willing to wait and see.”

The words rushed out, almost tripping over each other. Did he even hear me?

Connor stepped toward me. “I’m gay.” He took a deep breath, chest rising like he was bracing for impact. “I’ve never said it out loud before, but I’m Connor McMurtry and I’m gay.”

Something cracked open in my chest. I grabbed his hand and tugged until we were almost touching. “Show me just how gay you are, Connor McMurtry.”

The way he looked at me—raw, hungry—sent shivers racing down my spine. Then something shifted. His shoulders squared, his stance widened, and just like that, the Marine was back. Confident. In control. And holy hell, it was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.

He gripped my hips, pulling me tight against him. The message was clear—he was taking charge. Should I trust him? Could I? After what happened last night, part of me hesitated. But he’d come to me. Humbled himself. Told me he didn’t think I’d want him. He’d let himself be vulnerable.

And I was dying to know what it would feel like to have him inside me, to be completely taken by him.

He leaned down, his lips barely brushing mine. “Are you sure about this? Because once I start?—”

“I’m sure.” God, please don’t let me regret this.

Then he kissed me. No hesitation. No holding back. Just raw, consuming heat. He grabbed my ass and ground our bodies together, and I felt the press of his hard cock through his jeans. There was no question what he wanted.

I matched his kiss, tongue sliding against his, pushing for dominance. I was used to being the one in control, but this time, I wanted to surrender. That was new. Scary. And intoxicating.

Connor didn’t mind. He opened for me, letting me suck on his tongue, our mouths slick and hot. A moan escaped me as the pressure built—low and pulsing in my gut. Could I come just from this?

By the time he pulled back, I was breathless and dizzy. I leaned my forehead against his, needing the contact to steady myself.

His breathing was just as ragged as mine. “I’d never kissed a man before you,” he said softly.

Warmth bloomed in my chest. “Really?”

He held my arms and looked into my eyes. “Never.”

“Did you like it?” I couldn’t help the tension creeping in. I needed to hear him say it.

“Very much. Or at least, I like it with you.”

I swear my heart skipped a beat. How could I not fall for this man when he said things like that?

Connor kissed me again—slower this time, like he wanted to memorize my mouth. I gave myself over to the sensation, letting his lips and hands say everything he didn’t yet know how to put into words.

When he pulled back, something shifted again. His expression darkened—hesitation, maybe. Fear trying to creep back in.

“We don’t have to do this now,” I offered, not sure if I meant it. “We could… I don’t know… talk, or eat, or something.”

He looked down at the bulge in his jeans, then back at me. “I don’t think I can talk right now.”

That made me laugh. “Come here.”

I liked him shy just as much as I liked him bold. This time, I stopped when our lips were a breath apart. “We don’t have to rush anything.”

“I don’t know if I can be patient,” he said, his voice rough and low.

I kissed him again, cupping his face, enjoying the scratch of stubble under my palms. I worked my way across his jaw, then down his neck. When I nibbled, he tensed, hands tightening on my hips.

“Good?” I asked, my lips brushing against his throat.

“Not enough,” he growled.

“No,” I said, “not nearly enough.”

His hands went to my fly. One hand popped the snap on my jeans while the other traced the length of my cock through my underwear. I gasped and bucked into his hand. “Please.”

He stroked me—slow, teasing—and I couldn’t help the whimper that escaped. I needed more. I needed him.

My hands fumbled for his jeans.