Rocket Science

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Rocket Science Page 9

by K. M. Neuhold


  My lungs feel too tight as I attempt to drag in a complete breath. All I can do is shake my head as I reach for the railing, wrapping my fingers around it so tightly they start to go numb.

  “Hey, hey.” Pax reaches for me again but draws up short like he’s not sure how or where to touch me. “It’s okay, just breathe.”

  I shake my head again and squeeze my eyes closed.

  “I don’t want to do this.”

  “All right, why don’t you sit down for a second and catch your breath first,” he suggests, using his hands to steady me as I slide down to plop myself down on the step. I lean forward, putting my head between my knees and forcing myself to draw in deeper breaths, holding them for five seconds each before releasing them. Pax sits down next to me, his hand going to my back, rubbing circles right between my shoulder blades. I lean into his touch, enjoying the warmth of it, even if I know I shouldn’t.

  Once my breathing returns to normal, I lift my head and look over at him, his expression patient but filled with concern.

  “In high school, there was this party,” I say, figuring the least I can do is explain my freak out. “It was the same weekend as your college graduation, so Theo was out of town with your parents. Normally, I wouldn’t have gone without him, but for some reason I thought it might be fun.” My throat tightens, and I swallow hard, leaning into Pax’s touch.

  “What happened?”

  “As soon as I got there, the guy who was throwing the party, Patrick, got me a drink and took me over to talk to his friends. I thought it was going really well. I was proud of myself for putting myself out there for a change. Then Patrick started flirting with me.”

  Pax’s expression darkens but he doesn’t say anything, just waits for me to go on.

  “I didn’t particularly like him, but he was cute enough, and since I’d never even kissed someone before, I figured it couldn’t hurt anything to go with it and see what might happen. He kept giving me drinks, touching me…it was nice.” I swallow around the lump in my throat again, licking my lips to try and moisten my dry mouth. I tug at the sleeve of my blazer, dropping my gaze because I don’t think I can look at Pax while I tell him the next part.

  “Did he…force you to do something?” he asks, his voice low and dangerous like the rumble of thunder from a distant storm.

  “No, nothing like that,” I assure him. “He took me out on the back porch, and I thought he was going to kiss me. When I leaned in, someone came up behind me and yanked my pants and underwear down. Patrick laughed and started taking pictures, making fun of the fact that I’d tried to kiss him and that I was hard, calling me…well, I’m sure you can guess.”

  “That little prick,” he growls.

  “Yeah,” I agree with a sigh. “He sent the pictures to everyone and people pretty much made fun of me for it for the rest of high school. I also got grounded for the summer for coming home drunk. That was the last time I went to a party.”

  “Those guys were fucking assholes—it doesn’t mean everyone is,” he says. “Maybe this is one of those times when you need to try getting back up on the horse? I’m here, and there’s no way I’ll let anything like that happen to you. We can go in there, and you can see that parties don’t have to end with years of torment.”

  I bite my bottom lip and finally look over at him again, torn between wanting to run home to the safety of my apartment and wanting to do something as painfully normal as going to a college party. It’s not like this is a frat party, and Alex doesn’t seem to be anything like Patrick or his friends. And I do trust Pax to protect me.

  “Can I use the code phrase if it sucks, and I want to leave?”

  Pax chuckles, his hand drifting from my hand to the back of my neck, giving it a small squeeze that manages to heat my entire body all at once.

  “Yes, you can use the code phrase,” he agrees.

  “All right,” I agree, taking a deep breath and grabbing the railing again to pull myself up. “Let’s get this over with.”

  We climb the last few steps and head down the hallway until we find the right apartment number. The sound of voices and soft music filter out into the hallway, and my stomach flips and twists itself with nerves.

  “You’ve got this; it’s going to be fine,” Pax encourages.

  I take another deep breath, raise my fist, and knock. It only takes a few seconds before the door swings open, and Alex greets us with a huge smile.

  “Oh my god, I’m so glad you made it,” he says, throwing his arms around me in what’s probably the most aggressive hug I’ve ever experienced. I shoot Pax a panicked look.

  “Pax is a genius,” I gasp as Alex squeezes me, and Pax hides a laugh behind a fake cough.

  “What?” Alex asks, finally releasing me and cutting his gaze over to Pax. “Oh my, who do we have here?” He looks Pax up and down like he’s a dessert I brought with me.

  I bristle and step in front of Pax in an attempt to shield him from Alex’s view.

  “This is my friend, Paxton. I hope it’s okay I brought him with me.”

  “It’s more than okay,” he purrs, and Pax does the coughing laugh thing again behind me. Something tells me this is going to be a long night.

  Alex leads us into the kitchen, introducing us to several people along the way. It’s nothing like Patrick’s party. Yes, everyone seems to be drinking, but it’s not rowdy like I expected. I recognize a number of people I’ve seen in passing on campus or in class, and the rest look like they fit in with the same crowd. This isn’t a frat party; it’s a nerd party, and I can get on board with that.

  I take a wine cooler when offered, but Pax sticks to water, which relaxes me a bit. I know he’ll be clear headed if anything happens.

  “Sorry, this party doesn’t seem much like your scene,” I say to Pax once Alex leaves us to go answer the door again.

  He shrugs. “You’re here, that makes it my scene.”

  Heat rises in my cheeks, and I take a sip of my drink to hide my smile. I know he doesn’t mean it the way it sounds, but it’s difficult to tell my heart that as it tries to leap out of my chest.

  Alex returns a few minutes later, and he’s all smiles and fluttering eyelashes for Pax again. The worst part is, Pax doesn’t seem to mind it at all. He flirts right back, seeming to forget I’m standing there at all as he jokes and laughs with Alex.

  The knots in my stomach are back. I can understand Pax not wanting me, but what is it that makes Alex different? I study their interaction, trying to figure out what exactly it is, but eventually I can’t take it anymore. I set my empty wine cooler down and slip out of the kitchen without anyone even noticing.

  Pax

  I manage to break away from the flirty twink Elijah introduced as Alex, and I realize Elijah is gone. I check the living room and the kitchen, where everyone seems to be congregated for the most part. It’s definitely a nerd party, that’s for sure—I swear to god a game of D&D seems to have broken out at the kitchen table, and that’s the kind of shit you just can’t make up. I have to admit, there’s a nice vibe in the place though. Sure, people are drinking, but it’s not the kind of raucous, alcohol fueled sex-fest that all the college parties I went to were.

  When I find the bathroom unoccupied, the only place left to check for Elijah is in the bedrooms. I find the first two totally empty—again, weird for a party if you ask me—but strike gold on try number three.

  The room is dark, an outside streetlamp the only light illuminating the dark shape on the bed. He sits up as I step into the room but doesn’t say anything.

  “Everything okay?” I check.

  “Fine,” he answers.

  “Are you sure? Because you’re kind of sitting alone in a dark room instead of enjoying the party,” I point out. He scoots to the end of the bed and stands up. I can’t make out his features, but his jerky movements as he drags his hands through his hair gives the distinct impression that he’s upset about something.

  “I know we’re just friends,�
� he says, taking a step forward. I can smell the alcohol on him, but he seems steady enough on his feet, so I’d guess he’s tipsy but not drunk. My stomach knots at his words, and I brace myself for whatever might come next. “But could you tell me what it is about Alex? Like, why him but not me? Is it just because you haven’t had him yet? He’s kind of fun and flirty, that’s it, right?” he rambles.

  “Whoa, Alex?” I ask. “What are you talking about?”

  “You were flirting with him. It’s okay, you can flirt with him, I just thought this would be a good learning experience for me, to know what I could do differently with other men in the future.” A slight quiver in his voice belies his otherwise calm tone.

  “Oh, Elijah,” I say his name delicately, reaching out for him before I can think better of it. My hand lands on his waist, and I pull him a little closer so I can finally see his face in the dim light of the room. I brush my thumb over his cheek and look into his eyes, searching for the right way to explain it. “It’s not about you.”

  He snorts a laugh and starts to pull away, but I tighten my grip on his hip.

  “Come on, Pax. I may be awkward and inexperienced, but even I know the whole it’s not you, it’s me thing is bullshit.”

  I’ve never heard him swear before, and it catches me off guard. He tries to pull away again and I grit my teeth in irritation.

  “Will you wait one goddamn minute and let me explain?” I snap, and that stills him. “I don’t do relationships. You heard my friends last weekend; I’m a slut. I fuck anything that moves. You deserve better than that.”

  “That’s all? You think I deserve more than you’re willing to give?”

  “Damn right you deserve more,” I say. “You should be with someone who knows how to do all the hearts and flowers bullshit, who will take you on a proper date and woo you. You don’t want to waste your time with me, Einstein, you really don’t.” The words are like glass on my tongue, but they have to be said.

  “I can do casual,” he says.

  “What?”

  He shrugs and moves closer. “We’re adults; it’s no big deal,” he reasons, leaning closer until I can practically taste the sweet smell of liquor on his breath, my heart beating faster as I resist the urge to reach out for him. “It doesn’t have to be complicated,” he goes on, pressing me into the door with his body against mine, small but somehow commanding in this moment. I shouldn’t want him, but fuck, he’s not making it easy. My breath hitches, and heat flares in his eyes. “We’re nothing more than atoms crashing into each other.”

  And then we do crash into each other. His mouth claiming mine in a bruising kiss, his tongue sweeping past my lips to slide against mine. The timid man I kissed a few weeks ago is gone. There’s no awkward fumbling or shaky hands clutching the front of my shirt. Elijah’s arms loop around my neck, his hips pressed to mine as he grazes his teeth against my bottom lip before licking into my mouth again. A moan falls from my mouth into his, and I seal our lips more firmly together, digging my fingers into his hips to keep him in place.

  The hard outline or our cocks press together, sending sparks of electricity up my spine. It’s all I can do not to throw him down on the bed and rut against him until we’re both sticky with sweat and cum, just like before.

  Some distant part of my brain sounds the warning bells, telling me this is a bad idea, but I’m not sure I could give less of a fuck right now about right and wrong, smart or stupid; all I can think about is the smooth feeling of Elijah’s skin as I slip my hands under his shirt and the wet slide of his tongue against mine.

  The distant sound of chatter from the party is drowned out by our harsh, rasping breaths and the quiet sounds of pleasure that Elijah makes as he rubs against me. Goosebumps form in the wake of my fingers as I run them up the curve of his spine.

  “Oh god, Pax,” he breathes against my lips, his words sounding like a prayer. “Please,” he whimpers as I drag my teeth along his jaw.

  “Please, what?” I murmur, sucking at the soft skin of his throat, feeling his pulse thunder against my tongue.

  “I don’t know,” he pants, twisting his fingers in the front of my shirt, still thrusting against me in a clumsy, desperate sort of way that has my cock impossibly hard, my underwear growing sticky with precum. “God, I don’t think I’ve ever thought of all the things two people can do together. Like, what we did before? I never knew people did that,” he confesses.

  “What have you thought of?” I ask with interest, guiding him backward toward the bed he’d been lying on when I first came in.

  “Just the basic stuff,” he answers, a tremble in his voice as I push his blazer off and then guide his shirt over his head, exposing the pale, creamy skin of his torso to the moonlight.

  “Like?” I prompt, mostly to hear filthy words on his tongue.

  “Like, um, blow…blowjobs,” he stumbles over the word and then rushes it out. I can’t tell in the dark, but I’d put money on his cheeks being a bright shade of red right now.

  “Mmm,” I rumble the sound in my throat as I work the button on his pants open. “Is that what you want, Einstein? You want your cock inside my hot, wet mouth?” I drag my nose along the column of his throat, pulling his zipper down and slipping my hand into his jeans to palm his erection through his boxers. He lets out a strangled whimper, his chest rising and falling against mine with rapid breaths. “You want me to suck you and run my tongue all along the head of your cock until you spill your load down my throat?”

  He squeezes his eyes closed, and I feel his cock swell in my grasp, his whole body trembling.

  “Paxton,” he moans my name. “I can’t—I’m too close,” he pants.

  “One day I want to keep you naked for hours, playing with your cock, edging you until you can hardly think straight before I finally make you come. You won’t believe how intense it is when you drag it out like that,” I tease, still stroking him, but no longer keeping up a constant rhythm so he won’t finish too quickly. I know my words are a promise of something that likely won’t ever happen, shouldn’t ever happen, but it’s too fucking hot not to fantasize about, even if that’s all it can ever be.

  “Pax, please,” he gasps, burying his face in the crook of my neck. His hot breath fans over my skin.

  I stroke him faster, tightening my grasp on his shaft, getting drunk on every shaky breath that hits my flesh, every quiet moan that falls from his lips as he sags against me.

  “Tell me you want me to suck your cock,” I command, wanting to hear the filthy words on his lips before I get on my knees.

  “I want…oh god…” he groans.

  “Say it,” I demand again, slipping my thumb through the piss flap of his boxers and running it over the head, drenched with his precum, of his cock.

  “Suck my cock,” he pleads. “Please, Pax, suck my cock.”

  I drop to my knees and tug his underwear down in a smooth motion, his erection bouncing out and slapping against his stomach. Last time I didn’t have much of a chance to look and enjoy, the entire encounter a blur of intense lust. He’s not huge, but there’s plenty to work with. His shaft is thick, the head slightly curved upward, the tip glistening and red. He threads his fingers through my hair, holding on like his life depends on it as I wrap my lips around the head of his cock for the first time.

  “Oh my god, oh my god, ohmygod,” he chants as I lap at the salty, tangy precum trickling from his slit, my lips sealed around him. His thigh muscles are tense, his balls already tight against his body. I’ll be surprised if he makes it more than a few seconds, but that’s okay, it’s not like we have all night to fool around in his friend’s bedroom anyway.

  I slowly pull him deeper into my mouth, savoring every inch of his cock as it slides along my tongue, his fingers so tight in my hair my scalp starts to burn, incomprehensible babble falling from his lips. He’s so hard I can feel his pounding pulse in the thick veins along his shaft. He’s harder than steel, the head of his cock dragging against the roof of
my mouth as I stroke the underside with my tongue.

  “I can’t, oh god, I can’t,” he warns, yanking my hair.

  I suck harder, his cock hitting the back of my throat, and that’s all it takes. He starts to pulse in my mouth, spurts of hot seed spraying like a firehose down my throat. I grab onto the globes of his ass, sucking him, keeping him buried deep as I milk every drop of cum from his balls until he starts to soften in my mouth, and I’m forced to release him.

  As soon as I let him go, Elijah’s legs give out and he collapses onto the bed behind him. I lick my lips, savoring the tangy flavor of his release before crawling onto the bed beside him.

  My own cock is still hard and aching, but surprisingly, it’s the last thing on my mind as I brush Elijah’s sweaty hair off his face and wait for him to catch his breath.

  “Experiments are exciting, even if they end up blowing up in your face in the end,” he says after a few minutes, his eyes flickering to mine before looking away again.

  “Is that what this is? An experiment?” I roll the idea around in my head, examining it from all angles. If this isn’t a relationship or even a fling, maybe it’s safe, at least for a little while.

  Elijah shrugs and catches his bottom lip between his teeth. “It can be.”

  “And what exactly is this experiment, Einstein? It’s fooling around, not rocket science.”

  His cheeks tint pink, and his shoulders sag a little. I’m coming to recognize the look of embarrassment, and I wish I could snatch the words back.

  “I wish it was rocket science, then maybe I’d be good at it.”

  I want to tell him he seems to be plenty good at it, with a little practice and confidence he won’t have a problem blowing anyone’s mind between the sheets. But maybe that’s exactly how I can help him, by giving him the practice and confidence. At least that’s what I reason, and it seems to be good enough to shut up the part of my brain that’s panicking.

  “Okay, it’s an experiment,” I agree, and a shy smile spreads across his lips.

  “Really?”

 

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