Page 58 of Topping the Jock

Quinn:How was your Sunday? Have fun with Zane?

Yeah, because he’d totally ask me about my day if he didn’t like me. Smiling, I typed back a response.

Me:It was good. How was yours?

Quinn:Reed dragged me to costume shops and made me try shit on and model it for him. Dracula, a whacky scientist, and a gladiator. It was embarrassing.

Me:Do I get any pics?

Quinn:Only if you want to die.

Me:lol so you have plans for Halloween?

Hard to believe Halloween was only about two weeks away. Time had flown by.

Quinn:Reed wants me to go to a party with him, but I don’t know if I’ll go or not. Parties aren’t really my thing.

Me:We could always hang out. It’s on a Saturday this year.

Quinn:Maybe.

Better than a no. I set my phone facedown on the nightstand, and then I went to sleep, dreaming of a scantily clad Quinn in a gladiator outfit.

***

Quinn tasted like coffee as I kissed him in my office Wednesday morning before school. He had come down the hall, and I’d pulled him into my office and shut the door, cutting off his complaint as I melded our mouths together.

A breathy sigh left him as he gripped my shoulder blades and returned the kiss. I backed him up against the desk, pressing my body to his.

Little by little over the weeks, he had given me control when we were intimate. He let me pin him down and kiss him in bed. He had even let me take on a more dominant role when we had sex; he was still the top, but I had ridden his cock fast and hard several times and had sucked him off—two things he hadn’t been comfortable with in the beginning.

“I needed something to hold me over until later,” I said, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. His glasses were crooked, and I smiled as I fixed them.

“Students are on the other side of that door.” His pupils flared with exhilaration as he softly panted. “You should be ashamed.”

“But I’m not.”

And to prove it, I kissed him again.

My conversation with Zane on Sunday replayed in my mind. I had meant what I’d said. What had started out as something purely physical with Quinn had quickly turned to something more. I craved his kiss, his touch, but I also craved his laughs and the rare instances when he genuinely smiled at me.

I cravedhim. All of him.

“Monty,” he said against my lips. “We… we shouldn’t do this.” But even as he said the words, his fingers tangled in the material of my shirt. Holding me close.

“Do what?” I asked before slanting my mouth over his again, our noses bumping. “Kiss?”

“No.” He swallowed noisily. “Any of this. The kissing. The hooking up. It needs to stop.”

“Why?”

“Because… I…” His gaze searched mine before he averted his eyes. “We both got what we wanted, so we should end it now before things get too messy.”

“Don’t say that. You don’t mean it.” It was obvious in how he held me like he didn’t want to let go. “It’s okay if you’re scared.”

“I’m not scared.”

“Liar.”