#Rev (GearShark #2)(37)

Let the f*ckers who worked me over get a nice heap of oh f*ck. Let them hear it all, see it all, and get nervous. I saw one of the four on campus. The second he saw me, he turned and hiked the other direction.

The second classes were over, I went to the frat, did some obligatory shit, and then swung by a drive-thru on the way home. It wasn’t dark yet when I pulled into the driveway, though everything outside was shrouded in shadows and the sun was nowhere to be seen.

The garage door was open, and the Fastback was parked inside. The hood was propped up, and I smiled because I knew Drew was there leaning over the engine.

Almost as if he heard my thought, the top of his blond head poked up and stared out through the heavy rain to my car.

I cut the engine and pulled my black baseball hat a little lower to shield my face. Rain pelted me the instant I lurched out of the dry interior of my car, and water splashed up my ankles as I ran into the garage. Once there, I stopped and shook myself like a dog fresh out of the bath.

“What took you so long?” Drew griped, coming around the car. His blue eyes slid up my body and latched onto my face.

From beneath the rim of my hat, I watched him, taking in his familiar, welcome form. “Brought you some fries.” I held up a white paper sack. The coffee I’d gotten myself was still in the Mustang, long forgotten. Who needed caffeine when I had a dimple-wielding car addict in front of me?

Drew snatched the bag out of my hand and reached in to pull out a bunch of fries. I watched him shove them all into his mouth. The side of his cheek puffed out with the food, and his eyes rolled back a little while he groaned. “I needed these.”

Just like that, my day didn’t seem so long anymore. In fact, I stood there and prayed the minutes—no, the seconds dragged by from here on out because I wanted as much time with him as humanly possible.

“What about me?” I scoffed, mock indignation in my voice.

Drew shoved another huge bite of fries into his mouth. “Fries before guys.”

“Your priorities suck, Forrester,” I told him.

He set aside the sack and wiped the salty grease from his food on the shoulder of his shirt. Correction, my shirt.

The toes of his shoes hit mine when he stepped up close. His hands reached for my hat and spun it around backward on my head.

Excitement curled low in my belly, and I had to force myself to stand there and not grab him close. I liked the anticipation. Of waiting to see what he would do. Of not being the one to always make the first move.

I wasn’t opposed to it. In fact, if someone asked, I would likely answer I made a lot more first moves than he did.

That’s what made this moment so much sweeter.

“My priorities are exactly as they should be.” His voice was low. I had to strain to hear him over the pounding of the rain.

I lifted an eyebrow. “Fries before guys.” I reminded him.

“You’re not a guy.”

“No?”

He closed the distance between us. Our chests bumped when he advanced. Any bystander might glance at us and assume we were measuring the other, possibly even challenging the other… but there was no challenge here.

Only desire.

His lips came close. “No,” he whispered. I felt the brush of his mouth more than I actually heard the word.

Then he was kissing me, and I forgot all about fries and anticipation. I sank into the kiss. I actually felt my soul tug inside me, swaying toward Drew.

Unable to help myself, I wrapped one arm around his shoulders and held him tightly against my body. Drew’s hands wound around my waist and dipped low, fingertips pulling at the hem of my shirt, and my back muscles contracted waiting for his touch.

Instead of going up beneath the fabric, his hands slid down, diving right into the back pockets of my jeans so he could palm my ass.

I groaned into his mouth and tilted my head a little farther. Drew intensified the kiss, his tongue delving deep, and we battled it out for who could explore more of the other.

A crash of thunder literally shook the roof, but it didn’t matter. We were creating our own storm right here in each other’s arms. When at last he retreated, he did so slowly, pulling my lower lip as he went, tugging it out and sucking gently.

My heart was thumping when we pulled apart and the air brushed over my kiss-slicked lips and made them feel cold.

Drew smirked like he was proud of himself for kissing the shit out of me and reached down to adjust the hardness beneath his jeans. When he was done, he reached over and adjusted mine.

Blazing hot need pulsed through my veins. “Be careful, Forrester,” I said, hoarse. “Your virginity is at stake.”

He scoffed and grabbed the bag of fries to shove some more in his face. His lips were slightly swollen now from kissing.

“I hate to break it to you,” he said, chewing loudly, “but that ship sailed a long time ago.”

“Not the ship I’m talking about.”

He paused in chewing. The second he realized what I meant, he glanced down at my cock.

“I took your virginity.” The possession and pride in his tone was just a little arrogant.

“I gave it to you.” I corrected.

“Would you do it again?” His voice was curious, if even a little abrupt.

Was that a little vulnerability? I smiled. “That’s something I can only give once.”

He made a face, and the white sack crumpled when his hand clenched around it.