Page 10 of Want Me
“What? Guide hot roommates to the promised land of full-body orgasms?”
“Is that what I had?” My mouth moved, but my brain was stuck on the fact that he’d called me hot. He’d said it throughout the night, but it was always tied into what was happening between us. Now the vague compliment sent little flutters through my stomach that I wasn’t sure what to do with. Wasn’t even sure I liked. Eric was proving to be an anomaly in almost every way.
“Sure looked like it. Whatever it was was fucking amazingly intense. But no, I don’t make a habit out of entertaining someone’s bicurious side. Though, to be fair, I think only one other person has ever asked me to.”
“What happened with that?”
“Nothing much, really. It happened a few times and didn’t go anywhere after that.” Eric shrugged, gaze cutting down to focus on his fly as he zipped, buttoned, and buckled himself back into place, but there was something about the way he avoided my gaze that made me suspect there was more to the story. I didn’t have the energy to harass him about it right then, though, and I also didn’t think it was really my place to. Even if we’d gone way beyond what I had initially wanted to happen, intended to happen, there was nothing about tonight that suggested this hookup was anything more than solely the experiment it began as. Except…Eric was looking at me again. I was still on the bed in a boneless heap, but the way his gaze sketched over my body started flustering me. I rolled up to sit, and Eric glanced around before tossing me a towel lying on my floor.
I thanked him and mopped at my spunk-coated torso. This had to have been the most I’d ever popped off, and if he wasn’t still watching me like a damn hawk, I’d probably have sat there and reveled in it for a while. I mean really, it was that impressive.
“What?” I asked.
“So the experiment was a success, right? Or you’re not sure?” He had his T-shirt over his forearms but paused before pulling it over his head, like he wanted to see my face when I answered the question.
I sucked on the inside of my cheek. “Success. Not really sure what I’m measuring it against, though.”
He shrugged and cut me a devious grin as he tugged his T-shirt back into place. “I’ll stick with success, regardless.”
“You would. You really are a cocky fucker.”
Both brows arched, and he made me jump a little when he dropped his hand to my knee and leaned in, invading my space. I froze, thinking he was about to kiss me, but he stopped just shy of my mouth, narrowing his eyes in a tease. “Did I not earn it honestly?”
Before I could think of some snark to lob back at him, he snapped back upright and walked across the room to open my door. He paused there, resting one hand on the doorframe as he looked at me over his shoulder. “If you need a study partner for calculus again”—a slight tilt of his head and a meaningful quirk of his lips—“or anything else, let me know. I’m down.” Then he pushed off the doorframe and left. He chuckled quietly all the way down the hall and into the bathroom, where I heard the shower turn on before he shut the door.
I finished cleaning myself off and then made myself go over my notes and formulas again, but my head was a mess, replaying everything that had happened. Could I really consider my experiment satisfied, check it off the list, and move on? I wasn’t sure, but I was going to try. And if not, well, hadn’t Eric pretty much left it open-ended?
I kept seeing him kneeling in front of me, over me. Feeling the echo of his hands, his mouth, his cock inside me. It was seriously the best sex I’d ever had in my life. And it was with a guy. A guy who also happened to be my roommate.
Fuck. Things had suddenly gotten very interesting, and the more I thought about the night, the more I thought it was less experiment than beginning.
2
Take Me
One night with Eric hadn’t been enough. In fact, I was probably worse off now than I’d been before. Because now I knew for sure what it felt like to have Eric’s hands on my cock, his mouth on me. His fucking dick in my ass.Jesus. I couldn’t believe I’d let him do that. And not just let him, I’dbeggedfor it.
But the worst thing of all was that I wanted it again. Desperately.
A week and a half went by. I’d passed my calculus exam. I’d gone out with Mark, and we’d hopped from bar to bar, this almost frantic zeal in the way I scoped out the girls, looking for a hookup that would set me back to rights. But nothing held my interest.
A couple of nights later, I half-heartedly made out with a cute redhead at one of my fraternity’s mixers with Theta Gamma Beta. When she snuck her hand down my pants in the hallway of the bar, I thought for a second that maybe I could make it happen. But her delicate little fingers wrapped my dick, giving it a light, ineffective tug, and all I could think about was how differently Eric would have done it. There would have been none of her hesitation, just the self-assured pressure of his grip. I’d begged off in a total wuss moment with a cop-out excuse, telling her I wasn’t feeling well.
I hadn’t gone out since. I holed up in my room with my textbooks when I wasn’t in class, figuring if I was going to become a hermit, at least my academic career might benefit from my full-blown sexual crisis. I’d already finished a paper and a book report, neither of which were due for another two weeks.
Eric was gone a lot, too. I wasn’t sure whether or not it was on purpose, and the moments I saw him in passing he acted the same as he always had—polite, if aloof. Somehow I’d been expecting more. Some kind of acknowledgment of our hookup in the glances we exchanged—a kind of heat, or a wink and a smile.Something. But there was nothing. Nothing that remotely resembled the erotic intimacy that had existed between us that night in my room. And it was doing a number on me.
Eric had said he’d be down for another go, but I didn’t know how to go about getting what I wanted, which messed with me because, with a girl, I would have just flirted for a while, or bought her a drink, then asked her out. Easy. Trying to figure out how to approach Eric threw me for a loop. The simple answer was to just lay it out straight, stop him in our hallway sometime, and tell him what I wanted. But so far, every time I’d tried, all the saliva in my mouth dried up, the words got stuck in my throat, and I ended up grunting out a lameheyor ahow’s it going?instead. It was irritating as hell. And finally I decidedfuck it, I’d just give up. Time healed all, right? Hopefully that applied to blue balls, too.
My latest haven aside from the gym was the U’s massive library. Four floors of quiet, testosterone-free anonymity. I’d started spending afternoons after classes there, finishing my homework, studying, sometimes just watching dumb YouTube videos with my earbuds in.
It was a Tuesday, and I was muddling through Plato’s story of the ring of Gyges. The weather was garbage. Nothing but gray skies and intermittent downpours all day. I was leaning back in my chair at my study carrel, looking across the room at the angry churn of the sky through one of the windows near the front desk, when Eric walked in. He carried an umbrella that he collapsed and leaned against the doorframe with a bunch of others, but he’d still gotten wet. He raked a hand through the damp ends of his hair, glanced around quickly, then turned to speak with the student assistant manning the front desk. I didn’t think he saw me, but my heart sped up regardless. The student assistant wrote something down on a slip of paper, and Eric took it, sweeping another look over the banks of study carrels before he disappeared behind a stack of books.
I inhaled, exhaled, then picked up my earbuds and stuck them in, turning my attention back to Plato.
* * *
“Fuck!”I’d caught the movement from the corner of my eye but still jumped as Eric plucked one of my earbuds out, leaning in close to say, “What’s up, knucklehead?”