#Junkie (GearShark #1)(55)

My hands clutched at his waist, but it wasn’t enough. I wanted more. I wanted to give as good as I was getting.

His tongue wrapped around mine, and I reached up to delve my hands into his hair, but his hat got in the way. I made a sound, and he ripped his mouth free, only long enough to rip the hat off and throw it away.

Then he was on me again, and I welcomed him.

I didn’t have to bend over to deepen the kiss. I didn’t have to hunch in around him, because he was bigger than me. All I had to do was grip his head and dive in.

What was supposed to be an experiment turned to desperation. The floodgate of feelings suppressed so long was now burst open, and I declared to never go back again.

Holy f*ck, I was overwhelmed.

Kissing him was like seeing the ocean for the first time. Meeting something so big it made you feel small. It was like standing beneath a galaxy or being the red “you are here” dot on a map of the world.

It was like finally understanding the answer to an impossible question.

His lips were thick and soft. He used them to completely assault mine while his tongue stroked and f*cked the inside of my mouth. His hair was short beneath my palms. I loved the way it felt. Different, but in a good way. Kind of prickly when I rubbed my fingers over the back of his head.

My knees went weak, and I actually (embarrassingly) began to sag toward the floor.

Trent was there. He tightened his grip on my waist, and I discovered I was right. He was a really strong net and with him I would never fall.

Our mouths made a slight gasping sound when we pulled apart. Or maybe that was just the pair of us trying to catch our breath.

Soon as he lifted his head, he spun and walked backward so I was pressed against the wall, so I had somewhere to lean. My chest was still heaving when Trent started to pull back.

“Wait,” I ground out, breathless.

He came back.

“Do it again.” My voice was so raspy I barely recognized it.

His lips, which were actually slick and swollen-looking, tilted up.

He wasn’t gentle or tentative when he came at me this time. This time he approached like the football player he was.

Honestly, it was probably good he’d put me up against the wall, because I’d never been with someone with so much strength before. I wasn’t prepared for the way he was able to bulldoze into me.

Been with someone… Was I with Trent?

The thought was fleeting because this time I was able to feel more than just an overwhelming sense of rightness.

Trent’s entire body rubbed against mine. I shifted, spreading my legs so his thigh could slip between them. His tongue curled around mine at the very same moment I felt his hard-as-steel dick against my hip.

My chest rumbled with pleasure. The sound caused me to still.

Did I just enjoy—no, revel—in the feeling of my best friend’s dick against me?

Trent sensed the change and lifted his head.

He backed up just a fraction, enough so I couldn’t feel his rock-hard erection or the solid wall of his pecs against me.

“Umm, wow,” he said, swiping at his lower lip with his thumb.

The action tightened my stomach and made my own cock twitch.

In the same moment, I had two realizations:

1) Holy shit… I was rocking a raging boner just like him.

and

2) I hadn’t even noticed my own horniness because I’d been so wrapped up in a single kiss.

No kiss had ever—not even for a fraction of a second—made me forget other things (really good things like orgasms) sometimes came with kisses.

We kissed just to try.

To see if maybe there was something more between us than friendship.

We had an answer now. An unequivocal, resounding reply.

There was definitely more between Trent and me than just friendship.

Way, way much more.





Trent

The scruff on his face nearly did me in.

I couldn’t stop looking at his jaw, thinking about the way it felt when my lips and chin rubbed over his.

You ever take a sip of freshly brewed iced tea? Where the drink is still slightly warm and super sweet from being boiled to dissolve the sugar. But your glass is filled with ice, so you get the combination of warm and cold swirling together as it hits your tongue. That first sip while the temperatures mix is always the best.

That’s what it’s like to kiss someone with a scruffy jaw. Except every sip from their lips tastes like that. The ice never melts; the temperature never changes.

Drew was like an endless glass of that perfect liquid.

His lips were smooth, but the hair around them was textured. As we kissed, the sensation of his stubble moving against me was addictive. Soft but rough. Itchy but soothing. It added a layer to a simple kiss I never knew existed.

One.

That’s all it took.

One and done.

I was done wondering. Done trying to tell myself this was wrong. Done attempting to convince myself I didn’t really love him.

I did.

I loved Drew. The kind of love I thought only men and women could have. The kind of love I saw between Romeo and Rimmel. Between Braeden and Ivy.

I wanted more.

The urge to grab his face and rub my lips all along his jaw and fill my arms with his body was almost too much.

Not yet. Maybe not ever.

As urgent as it felt, there was an urge even stronger. To protect Drew. To shield him. There was no way in hell he didn’t feel at least half of what I did a few moments ago. I’d felt his hard-on, though I tried not to rub against it.