I shift even closer, the air between us charged. Every breath feels electric, every inch of space collapsing until there’s nothing left. I press my leg against the bulge in his pants, and he lets out a muffled moan.
The tension that’s been simmering between us finally breaks, and I stop fighting it. Whatever I’d tried to bury bursts to life, unstoppable.
It all goes up in flames.
“Oh fuck,” he gasps, and I can’t help but let out a dark laugh.
He has no fucking idea.
My fingers flex against his throat, and I feel his Adam’s apple bob against my palm. “Magnus has a big mouth and a nonexistent filter. Did he tell you I like to fuck men?”
“Yeah,” he says as his hands skim up my arms and grab onto my biceps.
The feel of him against me, even over my shirt, is too much to bear.
I fucking hate it. I fucking miss it.
“Do you like to fuck men, Caleb?”
He lets out a shaky exhale, his breathing slightly erratic.
I push against him harder, and he lets out a delicious whimper.
I shouldn’t ask. I shouldn’t know any of this. It will only make it harder to resist him.
“Or do you like to be fucked?”
He doesn’t answer, just writhes against me, setting me alight. I can’t do this. And yet, I don’t move. I stay, my words drifting across his lips, his pink cheeks, his fluttering lashes.
“Did he also tell you you’re not my type?” I say, trying to convince myself more than him.
“I’m everyone’s type, asshole,” he grits out.
I let out a huff, and with a willpower I wasn’t even aware existed, I let him go, pushing away from him. I don’t want to, but I fucking need to stop this.
“Not mine,” I lie.
As he stares at me in disbelief, I run my shaking hands through my hair and force myself to take measured breaths. It’s impossible to do when he’s sucking all the air from the room.
Not my type, indeed.
I pinch my nose as I will myself to calm down. “I’m going to ask Magnus to leave.”
I don’t want my friend to witness my downfall.
“No,” Caleb bites out.
My eyes flash up to his. “Why?”
He pushes away from the wall and squares his shoulders. “Apparently, he likes to be torn up during sex with big cocks. Sounds like fun.”
Jealousy and anger roar inside of me. Absolutely not.
“I thought you were straight,” I bite out.
“Apparently not as straight as I thought,” he replies as he adjusts his hard dick in his pants.
I can’t help but look down at it.