by Roni Loren
Devon gave him another once over and then peered out the window as if to verify where they were. He unhooked his seatbelt. “Move the jacket and unzip your pants.”
“What?” Hunter’s stomach clenched. “Dev.”
“I keep trying to stay on my side of the line, but I think we’ve already passed the point of no return tonight. After that kiss, we’re not going to go home tomorrow and have things go back to normal. Maybe we passed the point a long time ago. I was going to tell you tonight that I’m moving into my own place off campus.”
“What?”
Dev slid off his seat and went to his knees in front of Hunter. He grabbed the jacket and tossed it to the side, revealing Hunter’s now rock hard erection. “You won’t have to share space with me much longer. You’ll have an out. So tonight, let’s go with what we know. For whatever reason, you want this. And I want you. Tell me no and it stops.” Devon’s fingers hovered over the fly of Hunter’s jeans. “Tell me to stop.”
Hunter wet his lips. Stayed silent.
Dev unfastened the button on Hunter’s jeans and then pulled down the zipper, keeping his eyes on Hunter’s face as if expecting him to throw up the red flag. Blood rushed through Hunter’s ears at the simple contact, and his heart thumped against his ribs, but he didn’t say a word. The moving out thing they could talk about later. Right now, Devon was right. Hunter wanted this. It scared the hell out of him, but it didn’t change the facts.
Devon slid his hand into the fly of Hunter’s boxers and wrapped velvet fingers around his cock, making Hunter shudder with so many needy things, he couldn’t pick a sensation to go with.
“Jesus,” Devon said, losing a little bit of his own composure. “You’re big everywhere.”
It should’ve felt awkward, having another guy comment on his dick size, but somehow it only made him hotter. “I get that all the time.”
Devon snorted. “Cocky asshole.”
But before Hunter could respond, Devon was tugging down Hunter’s jeans and boxers. Hunter’s erection bobbed between them. And for one crystalized moment, everything seemed surreal. His best friend was between his thighs about to suck him off. Devon was about to suck him off. A dart of panic went through him, but then Dev dragged his tongue over the head of Hunter’s cock with a slow coaxing lick, and the fear dissipated like bubbles in soda pop.
Hunter’s fingers gripped the edge of the limo seat, a choked noise getting caught in his throat, and Devon eased his mouth down over him. Wet, hot suction and a talented tongue engulfed him. Hunter tilted his head back against the seat and cursed as pure, untempered wanting washed through him.
Devon pulled off, his breath balmy on the crown of Hunter’s cock. “Look at me.”
The loss of the stimulation was so acute, Hunter had to fight the urge not to grab Dev’s hair and push him back down. “What?”
“A blow job is a blow job if you have your eyes closed. If you want your questions answered, watch who’s doing it to you.”
Hunter sucked in a deep breath and lifted his head to look down at what was happening. When his eyes met Devon’s, Devon held the gaze and took him back into his mouth. Hunter’s lungs stalled, the connection almost too intense. But then Dev closed his eyes and gave Hunter the space to take in the view without pressure.
Hunter almost couldn’t process the scene, the violet-streaked hair, the scruff of a five ’o clock shadow scraping his thigh, the broad shoulders flexing as Devon worked him over. Tentatively, he reached out and cupped the back of Devon’s head, letting the strands brush over his palm. It felt like he’d entered some bizarro world. But in some odd way, the whole thing felt natural, too. His closest friend was making him feel good. Really good.
Devon slipped his mouth off Hunter’s shaft, replacing the absence with his hand, and his head dipped lower. A hot tongue stroked over Hunter’s balls and probing fingers scraped along the tender underside of his sac.
“Christ.” Hunter’s feet arched from the sensation, spikes of pleasure working up his spine. He was going to come before he blinked at this rate.
“Damn, Hunt,” Devon said, desire heavy in his voice. “I want to taste you everywhere. You’re so fucking sensitive.”
Devon licked his way up the bottom of Hunter’s length and blessedly took him in his mouth again, but his fingers continued to work over the now slick spot behind Hunter’s scrotum. The limo slowed, but Hunter was too forgone to care. “I’m close, Dev.”
Hunter expected him to pull away, finish him with his hand. But Devon didn’t back off, he just took Hunter’s cock deeper, tapping the head against the back of his throat and humming in appreciation.
That did it. Hunter’s back bowed, his fingers tightened on Devon’s head, and release slammed into him. He pumped his hips, rocking into Devon’s mouth like a desperate man, as stabs of blissful sensation ripped through him, and he spilled onto Devon’s tongue. Devon took it all, swallowing him down and gripping his hip to keep him steady.
It was one of the most erotic sights he’d ever seen, Devon’s throat working as he took every bit of Hunter. He couldn’t tear his gaze away, and he pushed himself past the point he’d normally be able to handle to enjoy the moment a little longer. But soon everything went overly sensitive and almost painful, and he had to force himself to pull away. He collapsed back onto the seat in a heap of limp muscles, his hands dropping to his sides.
Devon sat back on his heels and rubbed a thumb over lip to catch a remnant of Hunter’s come. He sucked it of his thumb, and Hunter’s dick gave a final kick at the sight.
Dev nodded at Hunter’s exposed state. “Better get yourself together, big man. I think we just pulled into the drop-off line at the hotel.”
“Oh shit.” Everything snapped back in Hunter’s brain like a rubber band, sending each part of him in motion all at once. He fumbled to tug up his pants, but his limbs were like wet spaghetti and everything took twice as long.
Devon climbed back onto the seat and adjusted the front of his pants where the outline of his erection was impossible to miss. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
“What are you doing?” Hunter asked as he finally got his button fastened.
“Thinking of that time I got kicked in the nuts in gym class. Kills a hard-on without fail.”
There was a tap on the window, like the limo driver knew they needed a warning shot. Great. God only knew what the guy had heard.
Devon took one more breath and then leaned over to open the door.
“We’re here, sir,” the driver said, taking the handle and opening the door the rest of the way.
“Thank you.” Devon was the picture of calmness.
They both climbed out while the driver grabbed their overnight bags. The driver handed them their luggage, accepted his tip, and then left them on the curb in front of the posh Carmichael Hotel. Hunter hooked his backpack over his shoulder with a shaking hand and tried to regain some shred of his composure as he took in the front of the hotel. “Damn, looks like your sister set you up good.”
“No kidding. I bet a night here costs as much as a month’s housing at school. Oakley said she’d told them to get me a nice place. I thought she meant the Holiday Inn.”
A doorman was heading their way, asking if they needed help, but Hunter waved him off. He wanted to get to the room as quickly as possible. Even though he had his clothes back in order, he felt like he was wearing a billboard that announced what had happened in the limo. His face was hot, his legs were wobbly, and his thoughts jumbled.
He followed Devon into the lobby, his shoes squeaking on the gleaming white marble floor as they made their way past brightly colored modern furniture and metal sculptures. High-tempo wordless music played low in the background. This definitely wasn’t the Holiday Inn. Not that he’d ever actually stayed in one of those. Hunter had grown up staying in swanky hotels, but his parents usually preferred the ornate historic ones. This place was all sharp angles and pulsing energy, matching how Hunter was f
eeling inside at the moment.
Devon made his way to the front desk and gave the attendant his name. She typed in a few things on her computer and then gave them each a friendly smile. “Would you prefer two queens or a king, Mr. Crowe?”
“Two—”
“A king is fine,” Hunter interrupted.
Devon glanced his way, brow lifted.
Hunter shrugged, unsure where the flash of bravery had come from but standing by it nonetheless.
“Okay, then, a king,” Devon said, turning back to the woman.
“Absolutely,” she said brightly. “We’ve got a junior suite with a great view and a Jacuzzi tub on the sixteenth floor. Is there anything we can send up for you? Fruit platter or maybe some wine?”
“No, I think we’ve had enough to drink,” Devon said, returning her smile and bumping his shoulder against Hunter’s.
It was something Devon would’ve done playfully before tonight. But right then it felt so much more intimate, real, like he was announcing to the girl that they were together. The publicness of it made knots gather in Hunter’s neck. Since Devon had come into his life, he’d never cared what people thought. More than one person had joked that he and Devon were secretly dating. But because it hadn’t been real, it had been easy to brush off. Now he felt exposed.
This was happening. He was spending the night in a hotel room with one bed with Devon. They’d fooled around in the car, and Hunter had just made some kind of promise for more when he’d asked for a king. Pterodactyl-sized butterflies crashed around his stomach. What the fuck had he gotten himself into? His body was warring with his good sense.
The clerk got them set up with their keycards and gave them directions to their room. As they headed toward the bank of elevators, Devon glanced over at him.
Hunter could feel the gaze burning into him, making his skin itch. “What?”
“Nothing. You just look like dead man walking. You haven’t signed a contract, you know? Just because we messed around doesn’t mean you’re obligated to anything. Seriously.”
Hunter punched the button for the elevator and one instantly dinged open. “That’d be pretty shitty of me—to take and not to give back.”
They stepped inside and thankfully no one else followed them in. Devon pressed the number for their floor and then turned to Hunter, his gaze shrewd. “This isn’t a flea market, Hunt. We’re not exchanging goods and services. I gave you head. We both enjoyed it. We can leave it at that. I’m not going to hold it against you if you call this experiment done.”
The elevator dinged before getting to their destination, and a big group of women and men in business attire streamed in, chattering loudly. Their lanyards announced they were there for some tech convention. Hunter shifted closer to Devon until they were crowded into the corner—shoulders pressed awkwardly together.
“Can you fit one more, Jim?” a lady asked, hurrying for the door.
A man held the door and another sardine got on. Hunter tried to make room but there was nowhere else to go. The elevator doors shut, and the car began to rise. But after only making it up two more floors, it jolted to a stop halfway to the third. The car made a dreaded groaning sound—unhappy metal.
Oh, shit.
One of the ladies up front jabbed the button for her floor but nothing happened. She jabbed again. The air in the small space suddenly felt scarce, and a murmur of unrest went through the group.
“I think we’re between floors. This happened earlier,” one of the men said. “Give it a second and it will probably fix itself.”
“No, press the alarm,” someone else demanded. “We’ve probably exceeded the weight limit. The car can’t move.”
“Is it gonna fall?” asked a lady from the back, fear in her voice.
In the corner of his eye, Hunter caught Devon close his eyes and take a wavering breath. Uh-oh. He knew the guy had a touch of claustrophobia. During rush week, they’d had an activity where the pledges were locked in a room, and Devon had panicked.
“You all right?” Hunter asked under his breath.
“Could be better.” His Adam’s apple bobbed.
Damn, the kid was going to freak out.
People were arguing.
“Press the alarm. They’ll fix it faster if they know it’s stopped,” Hunter said louder than the others, his tone brooking no argument, and then he forced his way behind Devon. He wrapped his arm around Dev’s waist and gathered him against his chest. Devon stiffened in surprise but didn’t pull away. Hunter leaned down next to his ear, keeping his voice just loud enough for Dev. “You’re fine. Breathe it out. There’s enough room in here for all of us, and they’ll get this fixed. And when those doors open, I’ll get you off in a hurry, even if I have to knock everybody else down to get there.”
A few glances cut their way, but Hunter ignored them. Right now, he didn’t give a shit what any of these strangers thought.
Devon turned his head and whispered, “Stop promising to get me off in a hurry. I’d rather you take your time.”
Hunter snorted and squeezed Devon tighter against him. The alarm was pulled and someone from maintenance came over the loudspeaker and told them they were getting things fixed. It took a few minutes, but Hunter didn’t let go of Dev. At first he told himself that he was doing it simply because it was keeping Devon calm. But as time passed, his body grew all too aware of what was pressed against what, and then he was just holding on because he liked having Devon against him.
The elevator ground to a start again, earning relieved noises from the group, and people streamed off on the next few floors. He expected Devon to hop off on the first stop, but he didn’t move a muscle. And by the time they reached their floor, no one was left on the elevator, but Hunter still held Devon close.
“You can let me go now,” Devon said softly.
“I don’t think I want to.”
“I don’t think I want you to either.”
Chapter 8
College
This was such a bad idea. Such a fucking disastrous idea. Wasn’t going to stop him, though. Devon grabbed Hunter by the front of his shirt and yanked him into the hotel room. The door clicked shut behind them, and he pushed Hunter against the wall.
He’d given the guy the out. He’d seen the wheels grinding in the hotel lobby. Post-blow-job brain had been clearing, and reality was settling over his friend. Devon had seen the shift. Had accepted that Hunter was about to freak out over their whole lapse in judgment. But then in the elevator, Hunter had surprised the hell out of him—grabbing him and talking him down from a panic attack—in front of all those people, no less. Despite the trapped quarters, one of Devon’s biggest fears, he suddenly hadn’t been able to think of much else besides wanting to tear Hunter’s clothes off right there. And now the adrenaline from their time in the elevator was pushing hard at any remaining self-restraint he had.
Devon pressed his lips to the cord of Hunter’s neck and nipped him. “Tell me to stop, Hunt. Tell me to slow down. Tell me to leave you the hell alone.”
Hunter tilted his head back, giving Devon better access. “Don’t wanna.”
God, he was so fucking beautiful. All muscles and mussed hair and hungry eyes. Devon had imagined touching him like this for so long that he didn’t know where to start. He wanted to gorge on the guy. But he had to be careful. This wasn’t a normal hookup. This was Hunter. Hunter. God, such a bad idea. “Lose the shirt.”
Hunter reached back without hesitation and pulled his T-shirt over his head, revealing that ridiculous body of his. Baseball had been good to this man. Devon’s fingers curled into his palms, the need to explore a burning thing inside him.
“Tell me what you want tonight,” he said before he allowed himself to touch again.
“What?”
“How far? I need to know.”
Hunter’s gaze was full of want but indecision hovered there, too. “I may not be sure until I get there.”
“Swear to me you’ll say stop if
things go to a place you don’t want to go.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Promise me.”
Hunter grabbed Devon’s belt and dragged him close. “I promise, man. Now shut up.”
Hunter kissed him then, hard and hot, and Devon lost all thoughts for a moment. It was just lips and scruff and hands grappling. Hunter may have never been with a guy before, but he definitely knew how to kiss. Devon’s hands slid down Hunter’s bared back and then sank lower. Hunter’s grip on Devon’s head tightened, the only sign that Hunter was bracing for what was coming, but he didn’t pull away.
Devon slipped his hands beneath Hunter’s jeans, his fingers running over the cotton of his boxer shorts, and then he squeezed Hunter’s ass in a hard grip. The muscles tensed in Devon’s hands, but Hunter groaned into Devon’s mouth—a groan that said Hunter was doing the opposite of freaking out.
Hunter’s tongue probed deeper, a frantic edge to the kiss, and Devon slid his hand lower, finding the place where Hunter had never been touched and rubbing the fabric of his boxers over it.
A shudder moved through Hunter, and he broke away from the kiss with a gasp, the back of his head tapping against the wall. “Fuck.”
Devon had gone hard the instant they’d stepped through the door, and now he couldn’t help but rub his cock against the hard outline of Hunter’s erection as he teased Hunter with firm fingers. “I’m going to make this so good for you.”
Hunter’s eyes squeezed shut, the muscles in his neck straining. “I have no idea how to do any of this. I don’t know how to make it good for you.”
Devon smiled and kissed Hunter’s collarbone. “I’ve got you. It’s not rocket science, I promise. You’re already making me feel good.”
Devon lowered his head and dragged his tongue over Hunter’s flat, brown nipple, then sucked, inspiring Hunter to let out a string of curses. Devon found the buckle on Hunter’s belt and worked on it while he teased Hunter’s other nipple.
Hunter helped things along by knocking Devon’s hand out of the way and undoing the jeans completely. Then to Devon’s surprise, Hunter reached out and unbuckled Devon’s pants as well.