Page 39 of Try Me

I did so reluctantly and felt Chet’s body shift to absorb and balance my weight. I didn’t mean to, but my eyes met his and he was right, we both stopped wobbling immediately.

“Good.” His murmured praise moved through me like a warm current. “The trick is staying in sync with each other. You feel my weight shift, shift yours, too. I’ll do the same. Perfect,” he purred as I inched sideways another step to keep pace. “And you’re right.Fast and Fearlesswas awful.”

“Damn straight.”

His gaze held mine, intense and focused, and a little uncomfortable at first. I mean, how often did people actually gaze deeply into one another’s eyes for an extended amount of time?

But as we started moving across the rope, our steps synced, our bodies found a natural give and take, and the tension in my limbs loosened. Chet’s eyes were a deep, molten brown, but I’d never noticed how much variation of color actually comprised them. Slivers of gold, like delicate filigree, and softer milk-chocolate striations mixed in with darker hues, all ringed in mahogany. His pupils shrank when the sun broke through the leafy canopy overhead and hit the side of his face, then widened when the breeze scattered the light. Watching the ebb and flow was hypnotic.

Chet’s fingers tightened around mine, and instead of worrying about the ground below, I found myself imagining him hovering over me, fingers twined just like this, pressing down on either side of my ears as he moved on top of me. Or maybe the other way. Maybe him beneath me, my cock sliding against his. Slick and hard and hot, his hands gripping tighter as I kissed lower and lower. His throat, his stomach, his—

“Farrow.” Chet’s voice was a sexy growl that tightened my balls. “Quit giving me the fuck-me eyes.”

“I’m not.” Denial. And a weak one that wouldn’t hold up under even modest pressure.

“What’s the picture in your head? Who’s on top?” His thumb went rogue, sweeping over the side of mine, the simple movement somehow as potent as if he’d reached down and run his fingers over my cock. “Or maybe it’s who’s on their knees. Is it me, Farrow? That what you wanted in the file room the other day?” Images of him in the backseat of my car with Cam flooded my brain, how Cam had rested his head against Chet’s shoulder, how Chet had lifted a hand to stroke briefly over his temple. I hadn’t been able to stop watching him. For a split second, I’d wished it had been me. Maybe longer than a split second. “I bet you like a lot of head action,” he mused. “Tight grip on your base, and someone that will slurp the fuck out of your crown, then deep-throat you right before you come.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, stop talking,” I hissed.

“Or are you the one on your knees, hmm? I’d be gentle, I promise. I’d let you get a little taste first to see if you liked it. Paint your lips with my cock, then push it just inside. I wouldn’t make you take me deep. Not the first time. I’d let you tease me, get us both nice and worked up until you were begging for more of me.” Chet’s lips curved up, eyes hot. “You gonna bust in your pants again?”

“No,” I growled, unsure whether or not I was lying. The saving grace of a harness was that it bunched your pants up anyway. Otherwise the wood I was sporting would have been embarrassingly obvious.

“You’re pretty sexy when you’re trying to hold your shit together. Now fucking step on the platform we’ve been standing in front of for the last minute unless you really are planning on busting a nut right here. Either-or, I’m game.”

I glanced down at my feet, then the platform an inch away and leapt onto it, yanking my hands free of Chet’s and shaking them out as he chuckled.

Once back on the ground, my dick thankfully having deflated during the descent, I tugged at the straps of my harness. “We need to talk about the other day.”

Surprise flitted over Chet’s features. “Do we, now?”

“Yeah. By my calculations, that puts us at about even.”

“How do you figure that?” His tone was cautiously curious.

“You messed with me that night after Nate’s. I messed with you in the file room. And then we both got off. Therefore, even. So now it needs to stop.”

“Even though you were all worked up less than a minute ago?”

“Stimulus response, dude. That’s all.”

“Uh-huh. By the way, John’s staring at you again.”

I glanced over, ready to tell Chet to fuck off, but he was right. John offered me a smile before shifting his attention elsewhere. I didn’t even have to look back at Chet to know he was smirking. “He’s probably pitying me for being stuck with you.”

“Or trying to figure out whether you’re a top or a bottom.”

I tossed my harness into the pile and smiled sweetly at Chet. “You can ponder it when you jerk off tonight.”

I stepped around him and headed toward the parking lot, inwardly congratulating myself for the first decent comeback I’d had all day. Bad at rebounds, my ass.

13

Mark

John found me in conference room F, folders spread out, laptop opened as I attempted to put together a PowerPoint presentation from an outline Rick had given me earlier. I’d had class that morning and was struggling not to fall asleep because the conference room was warm and going through the outline and making the PowerPoint slides was just tedious enough to make me drowsy. I’d already gotten two papercuts when my thoughts had drifted—mostly toward Chet. The sting of paper slicing into skin felt like penance.

“About done there?” He paused briefly behind my chair to squint down at the screen of my laptop.