#Junkie (GearShark #1)(63)

He didn’t look grossed out. If anything, he looked turned on. His lips were slightly red from being around my cock and his tongue darted out and slid over his lower lip.

Trent wrapped his fingers around my head and squeezed gently, milking the rest of my release out of my cock. The bead of white balanced the tip, so he released my skin to wipe it away with his fingers.

I collapsed back, totally f*cking spent.

That had been better than some entire sex marathons I’d had with a few old girlfriends.

I wrinkled my nose. Thinking about them and what we’d done made me a little queasy. It felt wrong now. Having anyone but T touch me now felt wrong.

The soft touch of fabric on my stomach caused me to look down. He was cleaning me up.

Something about the action made my heart turn over. He was using his shirt. Soaking up my jiz on his shirt. The same shirt he just came all over.

We were mixing together.

Maybe I should have been put off.

I wasn’t.

Without thought, I ran my fingers through his hair. He glanced up and smiled. It was relaxed and almost shy.

Butterflies erupted in my stomach. No shit, genuine butterflies.

He just affected me that much.

“You okay?” he asked.

He seemed to ask that a lot tonight. Like he cared a lot more about how I felt than him.

“Actually, I’m kinda pissed,” I replied.

Trent drew back, and his eyes widened. “Why?”

“A couple reasons.” I held up a finger. “There was no way that was your first BJ.”

Relief made him grin; his crooked tooth charmed me. “I think I’d know if I’d sucked another dude’s cock before.”

I narrowed my eyes. “I’ll beat their f*cking ass.”

He patted my leg and stood up. “Yours is the only one I’m interested in.”

I grunted. Better be.

“What else?” he asked, moving across the room.

I watched his back muscles bunch as he walked and the long length of his arm when he bent down to pick up my jeans.

“Huh?” I said, distracted.

A smug looked crossed his face. “Like what you see?”

I wagged my eyebrows.

He held up his arm and flexed his impressive bicep.

“Now you’re just being cocky,” I told him.

Trent laughed. It was my favorite sound.

“Why else are you pissed?” he asked, not even concerned.

“Because all this time, we could have been blowing each other.” I shook my head sadly. “I’ve missed a lot of f*cking orgasms.”

Trent straightened and looked at me seriously. My jeans dangled from his hand. “You’d want to do that to me?”

The question kind of made me feel like shit.

Like maybe I should have paid more attention to the way he was feeling. After all, I did find him in a gay bar tonight. He’d gone there because he was tore up inside and felt alone. He’d wanted to find someone who might understand.

“Yeah, frat boy,” I answered soft. “That’s definitely something I want to do.”

He blinked and swallowed thickly, suddenly overcome by emotion. I pushed off the couch and stepped around the coffee table. Trent wasn’t looking at me, but was very involved with his task.

“Trent.”

His shoulders stiffened, and he pulled my boxers out of my jeans. “Here.” He extended them between us.

I quickly pulled them on. “Hey.” I touched his wrist when I was done.

He still wouldn’t look at me.

“You’ve been carrying this around a long time, huh?” I asked gently.

He nodded.

Trent wasn’t a very vocal guy. He was good at blending in with the background, with being the friend everyone loved, but no one knew quite as well as everyone else.

It didn’t matter to me. But now I knew why.

Judging just from where I found him tonight and everything that happened since, it made me even more in awe of him. Goddamn, he was so brave.

Brave even though he was clearly barely holding it together. Strong in the face of a hurricane. Solid in a crumbling world.

He still made you his top priority tonight.

I reached for him, pulled him close. My arms wrapped around his waist and clutched his back. Even though he was wider than me, I still hunched around him. I still tried to make him feel less alone.

His face pressed into the side of my neck when he hugged me back.

I held him tighter. My sister always said I gave the tightest hugs of anyone she ever knew.

I held as tight as I could in that moment. If he were crumbling, I would hold every single piece of him in place.

He lifted his head a fraction, just enough to rest his chin on my shoulder. “I thought I was going to lose you.”

It surprised me to realize as scared as I was about what was happening between Trent and me, it seemed I just might have been a little less afraid.

He’d been the one to admit how he felt first.

He’d been the one to kiss me.

He’d been the one to give the first blowjob.

But I was the one standing here holding him.

One of my hands slid up the back of his neck to palm his head.

Trent was a paradox, and not many people saw.

He was strong. But there was something impossibly vulnerable about him.