Riding With Brighton(38)

But kissing is definitely my favorite thing.

And, Jesus, the way Jay kissed me at the park, like he was trying to devour me but at the same time just barely tasting me, was by far the best kiss I’ve ever experienced. That kid’s mouth is the best thing I’ve ever experienced, period. Jesus, I can still taste it and feel it.

I’m so lost in my euphoria it takes me a minute to realize that I’m not dreaming about his ass pushing into me, but that it’s really happening. A low moan seeps out of his mouth, and his hand reaches around to grab on to my ass and pull me up tighter to him. I grind my hips into him, using my arm that’s still wrapped around his waist to pull him to me. “Fuck,” he mutters, moving his hand and wrapping it around my neck, turning his torso so that I can get to him with my mouth.

I close my mouth over his, the angles our heads are at creating a perfect suction. And I lick him. And he licks me, and our tongues are engaging in a wicked lust-filled battle where the end goal would be a release of this, now seriously painful, desire to get off. I grind my hips harder, and Jay whimpers into my mouth and pulls on my hair. I get it—this is fucking frustrating. I told myself I wasn’t gonna go here with him—not yet. But what the hell am I supposed to do? I mean, I am only human.

I move my hand under his T-shirt, and I drag my fingers across his ridiculously perfect abs. Seems like he’s even less patient than I am because he grabs my hand and pushes it down and, trust me, I don’t need direction. My fingers snake under the waistband of his boxer briefs, and I run them over the rough hair that’s there, which causes Jay to pull harder at my hair. I push down farther and feel the warm, smooth skin on his head, and now I’m the one who’s groaning.

The ache in my stomach is real, and I’m pretty sure it’s caused by the overwhelming desire I have to wrap my fingers around his shaft. As I slide my hand down, and his length rubs against my palm, I’m growling like a damn animal. I stroke him as efficiently as I can under the restraint of his jeans before pulling out and quickly getting his button and zipper undone. Frantically, I push down his boxer briefs and we both stop kissing for a moment when I wrap my hand around him properly. I give him one more kiss before lifting my head so I can look at my hand on him. He turns his head and groans when he looks down. God, it’s a beautiful sight: my hand wrapped fully around him, stroking him up and down.

“Fuck, that feels good,” he groans.

“You’re so damn sexy.”

“This is sexy… watching you.”

I totally agree. I move my hand off him long enough to lick my palm and fingers. When I start rubbing him again it goes much smoother, and I can tell, by the sound of his moans and grunts, that he’s having a hard time holding his shit together.

I could do this all day, but I don’t blame him when, just a few minutes into the hand job, he says, “Shit, Brighton, I’m gonna come.” I just pull his T-shirt up to his chest and jerk him harder until his body goes stiff before he does as promised and comes all over his bare stomach.

When he’s done, he collapses onto my arm and closes his eyes as he tries to catch his breath. I kiss him on the corner of his mouth and he smiles. “Holy shit,” he whispers.

I’m still admiring the view when I hear the telling creak at the top of the steps. “Shit,” I mutter, sitting up and practically pushing Jay on the ground. He sits up and pulls his shirt down.

“Dammit,” he mumbles, probably because he’s covered in his come as someone from my family comes down the stairs. I shift the blanket so it’s on top of his chest and kick my legs up on the coffee table, dropping an arm over his shoulders. I’m not an idiot; if my parents came down here and we were on opposite sides of the couch, they would definitely know something was up.

But when the perpetrators, because yes, there are three of them, come down the stairs, it’s not my parents but my best friends: Molly, Nico, and Shaw. “What the hell are you doing, asshole? We’ve been trying to get ahold of you all day,” Nico says, smiling easily. All three of them plop down—Molly and Shaw on the love seat and Nico right next to me. None of them are acting surprised by Jay’s presence—I’m guessing Mom tipped them off—but Jay stiffens under my arm.

Normally, this would be the time I would panic—straight-to-the-world Jay just got busted on my couch with my arm wrapped around him. But all I can think about is the fact that he’s sitting here, covered in his own jizz, and I start laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Molly asks, and I try really hard to stop, but it just makes it worse. And then I hear Jay laughing too, and my friends are looking at us like we’re lunatics.

I look at Jay, and he looks a little stunned, but he also looks pretty damn happy. “Jesus,” he mutters, shaking his head at me.

All I can do is raise my eyebrows at him and smile.

“So what the hell’s going on here? Did you seduce the poor kid?” Nico asks.

I’m about to tell him to mind his own business when Jay says, “He totally seduced me… then took advantage of me.”

“What an asshole,” Nico says, slapping my arm and laughing.

“Is there any way you guys can give us a minute?” Jay asks.

“Sure,” Molly says suspiciously before standing. “Come on, boys.”

When the three of them are all safely stashed in my room, Jay sits up and laughs again before saying, “I’m a total mess, asshole.”