Page 26 of Not That Guy

Brenner

Weston Lively sucked my dick.

Five words I would never have imagined uttering, yet here I was, half-naked in his bed, having exploded in his mouth. And all over his face.

Tension crackled between us as he crawled up to lie next to me.

I reached out a hand and trailed a fingertip along the cut of his cheekbone, then traced the perfect outline of his lips.

He teased it with his tongue, and incredibly, my dick twitched, still in recovery from my shocking orgasm only moments earlier.

I slid my finger fully into his warm mouth, and he sucked, adding flicks of his agile tongue.

“Let me do for you,” I whispered, still in disbelief that I was in bed with a man—with Weston—and he’d made me come. There was no denying it, or the fact that Weston was just as turned-on, evidenced by the thick cock outlined in his pants.

“What do you have in mind…uh…yeah…that,” he grunted as I cupped his erection and squeezed it. “Do that.”

My ribs prevented me from moving too swiftly, but Weston helped by wriggling out of his pants to lie fully naked.

I stared at his body—the hard dips and cut of muscle, the golden hair on his chest and his strong thighs.

All of which I’d seen in other men in locker rooms at the gym or on the beach.

None of which had ever held my interest or turned me on.

Until now.

Weston’s dick was hard and thick, with a pulsing vein running up the side, inviting me to touch.

I wrapped my fingers around the thick length, and hearing a sigh of pleasure escape Weston, I began to stroke him.

I picked up some sticky precome to help lubricate, watching in fascination as he writhed and thrust into my hand.

“Faster,” he grunted, and I did as he asked, never taking my eyes off him. A curious ache stole through me, and a throb hit me low in my belly.

Damn, I wonder what he’d feel like in me.

I ached and, half-hard, I tried to shift closer, but it hurt, so I stayed in place, my hand working his shaft. When I jerked off, I liked it hard with a little twist on top, so I gave that same treatment to Weston, who hissed.

“Good or no?” I murmured, continuing to apply pressure.

“Yeah, do it, Bren, oh fuck.” He arched off the bed, hips snapping, head flung back, giving me a vision of passion I’d never imagined.

“Bren,” he cried out and lost it, his hot come streaming through my fingers.

The sight of Weston Lively coming undone sent me reeling, and I grabbed my cock.

Another orgasm ripped through me, and I joined him on the bed, the two of us lying flat staring up at the ceiling, chests heaving.

“Are you okay?” I asked, curious if he’d try to downplay it. Prepared to accept it if he did.

“You’re kidding, right?” he murmured, and rolled on his side.

Even in the shadows of the bedroom, I could see the haze of lust in those incredible green-gold eyes.

He ran his fingers along my leg, and I trembled.

“It was fantastic. What we did that night when we were drunk rarely left my mind. Then last week, when we almost kissed…” He bit his lip.

“I couldn’t stop wondering what you’d taste like.

I don’t know what’s happening here, but are you okay with it? ”

I reached out to touch his hairy chest. Who could’ve guessed I’d like it?

But I did, and Weston’s hum of pleasure let me know he was into it as well.

“I-I don’t know either, but it’s like you said.

I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you…

and me. It’s never been like this with any other man. Only you.”

He winked. “I am one of a kind.”

I rolled my eyes, enjoying the banter. “You, me, and your ego. Good thing you have a king-sized bed to fit us all.” Realizing I might be getting ahead of myself, I bit my lip. “I didn’t mean I’d be sleeping here with you. I don’t want—”

“I do. Please stay.”

My fingers curled over his heart, and I felt its rapid thumping. “Okay. I’d like that.”

“Me too.” He hesitated, then swooped in to kiss my cheek. “I’ll get your pants for you.” He pulled on his sweats, picked up mine, and helped me on with them. “Are you feeling any better with the ribs?”

“I think so. I haven’t needed the painkillers since last week. They made me dopey.” I pulled up the covers and watched Weston climb in on the other side. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Do you have any regrets that this happened?”

Concern spread across his face, and a tiny line bisected his forehead. “Why are you asking? Is that how you feel?”

“No.” I exhaled a relieved breath. “There’s been something in the air between us for a while now.”

“I never regret what I do.” To my surprise, Weston snuggled closer.

I hadn’t counted on him being affectionate and sweet.

“Or whom.” He grinned, and ran a foot over mine.

“But just so you know, I have no intention of this happening with anyone else. We might’ve started out hating each other, but somewhere, it got turned around, and now I can’t stop thinking about you.

I’m not looking to question or analyze it.

I want to see where this takes us. If you’re ready. ”

Stunned by his revelation, I licked my lips.

“I-I think I am.” Who was I kidding? “I definitely am. I think that’s why I didn’t fight you about going home after my first doctor’s appointment.

” The heat of my secret truth warmed my cheeks.

“Maybe I was hoping this would happen since that first time.”

West’s soft eyes crinkled half-shut with laughter. “As if I’d let you leave. And no need to figure it all out tonight. Right now we should go to sleep because I’m tired, and you must be as well.”

Of course as soon as he said it, I yawned. “Kind of, but I need to wash up.” I wiggled my fingers. “I’m a little sticky.”

With a rueful smile, Weston flung off the covers and circled the bed to my side.

“I’ll help you. Plus, I have to clean up in the living room.

” He offered me a hand, and I gingerly swung my legs to the floor and stood.

I made to reach for my crutches, but Weston held me.

“You don’t need them. Not while you’re here.

Lean on me.” At my hesitation, he squeezed my shoulder.

“I’m not asking you to marry me, Brenner. Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

“I’m not.” I glared at Weston, and he snickered.

“Has anyone told you you’re cute when you’re annoyed?”

“That means I must be fucking adorable whenever I’m with you,” I shot back, but of course Weston ignored me.

He left me in the bathroom to wash up, and after I finished, I thought I heard the television on low.

Holding on to the wall, I crept to the hallway and peeked into the living room, where Weston sat on the couch, watching his father’s victory speech for the second time.

Try as he might to deny it, the hurt ran deep from his father’s words.

There were different types of abandonment.

Some of us were rejected by our parents, or put in impossible situations that risked our lives.

Others, like Weston, had to learn to deal with a parent who gave everything except what a child most desired and needed—unconditional love; a parent whose main concern was himself, his wants and needs, not those of his child.

I returned to the bedroom as quietly as I could, and with my ribs and heart aching for both of us and what we’d lost, got into bed.

I closed my eyes, waiting for Weston to return.

I must’ve fallen asleep because I awoke to complete darkness and Weston lying curled up in a tight ball, miles of empty space between us.

**

It had been odd between us since that night together.

There’d been no repeat, no kisses or touching.

In fact, it almost seemed as though Weston had been going out of his way to avoid me, and now, at the end of the second week, I made the decision to return to my apartment.

There was no need to stay with Weston any longer, and I needed my life to return to normal, whatever that meant.

My doctor appointment went smoothly. The bruising around my ribs looked worse than it felt, and he put me in a small, soft brace for my ankle and said I should be able to put weight on it again.

Before returning to the office, I stopped at a sandwich place and picked up something for lunch.

At first it was weird not using the crutches, and I moved slowly, but when I didn’t fall, I gained more confidence and waited for a car.

This proved to me I’d made the right decision to go home. I couldn’t depend on Weston anymore.

But Weston didn’t see it that way. “Why did you go without me? I said I’d take you. My meeting got held up but only by a few minutes.” His eyes shot fire at me from across the desk.

“It wasn’t a big deal. The bruising is healing nicely, and my ankle is much better.” I made an attempt at a joke. “Look, Dad, no crutches.”

“You’re not funny.”

“I think I’m hilarious.” Struggling to understand why I was so afraid to tell him I was leaving, I decided to blurt it out and get it over with. “I’m going home tonight. I appreciate everything you did, but I think it’s time.”

Expecting an argument, I received a shock when all Weston did was shrug. “Suit yourself. If you need help bringing anything, let me know.”

“It’s not much. I can handle it.”

Weston opened his mouth as if to say something, then changed his mind and gave a sharp nod. “All right.” He turned to leave.

“West, please wait.” Using the desk to brace myself, I got to my feet and walked to where he remained standing, stiff and still as a soldier. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, sure, why wouldn’t it be?”

“That’s why I’m asking. Ever since…that night, you’ve changed. I thought…I don’t know. I thought things were going to be different between us. Better.”

“Nothing’s changed. It’s been a busy week, and I’m tired.”