by Kora Knight
He cleared his throat, eyes darting toward the door, then warily took a step backward.
Scott’s grin turned lopsided as he moved slightly closer. “Where you going?”
Tad shook his head and shrugged. “Nowhere.” Again, he inched back—until he bumped into glass. At which point, he sheepishly scooted away from his “mess.”
Clearly amused, Scott’s lips curved higher. He literally had Tad’s back against the wall—and the smug bastard fucking knew it. Once more, he closed the distance between them. “Tad,” he murmured, all husky and low.
Cheeks heating fast, Tad fought to control his breathing. “What?”
Scott splayed a hand on the glass beside Tad’s head, effectively blocking any more sidestepping. “Something wrong?”
Tad shook his head a second time. “Nope.”
Again, the guy’s gaze dropped to his mouth.
Instinctively, Tad licked his lips—which curiously made Scott’s sultry smile fade. His glittering eyes grew dark and hot. Tad shifted against the window, utterly clueless about as to how he should act.
“You sure?” Scott murmured, glancing back up.
Again, Tad cleared his throat and gave a nod. “Yeah. I’m just… still recuperating.”
Scott’s free hand reached out and brushed the bangs from his eyes. “Mm.” Slowly, his fingertips traced the line of Tad’s jaw.
Tad stiffened. Why the fuck did these innocent affections feel more intense than sex?
Scott’s hand stilled on its way back up, a small frown darkening his features. Quietly, he mused, as if talking to himself. “You’re okay with me fucking you, stroking your cock, and yet you can’t handle touch here.”
Inwardly, Tad cringed. Yup, that pretty much summed shit up. Hell, since obviously Scott was so damn astute, maybe he could tell Tad what was up. Lips parting, he struggled for what to say. But before he muttered a single word, Scott settled his hand against the side of his neck, his thumb applying slight pressure.
Two seconds later, the dude’s smile returned, fresh light flickering in his eyes. “Jesus, babe,” he murmured. “Your pulse is fucking hammering.” He shifted closer, his tone turning smug. “I’m totally making you nervous.”
Oh, fucking great.
Blushing like mad, Tad shoved at his hand. “Shut up. You are not.”
But Scott’s grip only tightened. “Stop, Tad. Let me touch you.”
Thud.
Tad clutched Scott’s wrist as the guy stroked his pulse, and tried to feign utter calm. “Whatever, dude,” he murmured. “Fine. Touch away.”
A happy little purr thrummed in Scott’s throat as both hands skimmed along Tad’s jaw and into the hair past his ears. Slowly, he moved his big body closer. “You can touch me, too,” he breathed, thumbs stroking Tad’s cheeks.
Oh, God.
They were inches apart. And face to face—something Tad definitely wasn’t used to. His internal turmoil went bat-shit crazy, torn on what to do next. Beat himself over the head or snap his arms around Scott’s ribs. Sadly, both would make him look like an ass. So instead, he settled his free hand on Scott’s hip.
Scott sighed at the skin-on-skin contact. “Fuck, that feels good.”
It donned on Tad then that he rarely ever touched Scott, even when they sexually engaged. Yet, that hadn’t been the case with Scott. Whenever their crazy little freak train got rolling, his hands were constantly on Tad.
But damn, the sound Scott just made when Tad touched him? It was like the guy’d been starving for his touch. Which kind of made Tad feel like shit. He hadn’t meant to deprive the dude, or intentionally withhold physical contact. God knew, on the flip side, he loved Scott’s hands roaming all over his body.
Well, except for the kind of stuff the guy was doing now, like moving his fingers all tenderly through Tad’s hair. Intimate shit like that was definitely what jarred him. But why, when they’d already had so much raw, carnal closeness. Why did calm-and-cozy make Tad so mental?
Yeah, deep down he was pretty sure why. Because all those other times had a single goal, one common end game agenda. To get down and dirty for some blistering-hot sex. To make each other crazy ‘til they both gave up their loads.
But this? This kind of intimacy was gunning for something else. Something quintessentially different. This type of slow and smoldering seduction had its crosshairs trained on his heart. Which, truth be told, was territory he’d never actually explored. In all his relationships, no one had ever pushed that boundary. But now that he suspected he was skirting its perimeter? Jesus, it felt way too potent. Talk about pushing one out of their comfort zone.
Tad sucked in a breath as Scott leaned slowly closer. “Don’t be nervous,” the guy whispered, rubbing their noses. “On my honor, I swear it won’t hurt.” His lips curved into an impish smirk. “My dick’s a lot rougher than my lips.”
Cheeks flushing hotter, Tad laughed and looked away. “Fuck off. I told you, I don’t know what I’m doing.”
And wasn’t that the gods honest truth. Apparently being this close to Scott was like getting a lobotomy. He couldn’t think. Couldn’t reason. Could barely fucking breathe.
Scott pressed his brow to Tad’s and grinned. “I’m telling you, it’s not that complicated.”
“Yeah,” Tad grunted, meeting his eyes. “Says the guy who’s done this before.”
Scott smiled. “You’re brave. And daring. I’ve seen you be both firsthand.” Lazily, he pressed kisses from Tad’s ear to his cheek. “Trust me when I say you’ll survive.”
Though a fresh wave of trembles threated, Tad couldn’t hold back his laugh. “You’re mocking me, you asshole. That’s seriously rude as shit.”
Scott chuckled softly. “My shortcomings know no bounds.” His lips stopped to linger at the corner of Tad’s mouth.
“S’okay,” Tad rasped, fingers fidgeting against Scott’s hip. “Guess I could overlook it.”
Scott laughed, pulled back slightly, then tilted his head and brushed his lips across Tad’s. Just like he’d done so many times before. A barely-there whisper of fleeting contact.
Tad clutched the dude’s wrist tighter, his insides going berserk. Fuck, this was really going to happen.
Scott was seriously about to kiss him.
And Tad was seriously about to kiss him back.
Heart hammering, he swallowed and closed his eyes.
“Ah, babe,” Scott murmured. “My bold and beautiful man...”
Soft, warm lips gently pressed—
“Yo, Scott!” Max shouted, swinging the door wide. “I need your help with the—Whoa.”
Tad’s eyes snapped wide as his whole body froze.
Oh, shit. Oh, fuck. Oh, Jesus God.
Scott stilled, then slowly turned his head, hands still cupping Tad’s face. “Knock much?”
Max stiffened at his terseness, mouth snapping shut. Flashing green eyes shot between the two men. Confusion and shock were clear on his features, but so was a welling anger. Jaw muscle ticking, he narrowed his eyes. “It reeks of sex in here.”
All blood promptly drained from Tad’s face.
Realizing his hands were still clutching Scott, he yanked them back and quickly slid out from his confines.
Scott looked at him, frowned, then turned back to Max. “You need to leave. Now. And shut the fucking door.”
Max’s brows dipped low, holding Scott’s glower… until he glanced over and got a look at Tad’s face. Ginger boy damn near did a double take. “What the fuck is wrong with him? He’s white as a fucking—Oh, Jesus.” Incredulous eyes shot back to Scott. “Seriously, bro? Are you fucking stupid?”
Tad bit back a groan, fumbling for his shirt. The disdain in Max’s eyes was like fast-acting venom. His stomach twisted violently, threatening to puke.
“Max,” Scott muttered between clenched teeth. “Shut the fuck up and leave.”
Visibly bristling, Red gestured at Tad. “Scott. Fucking look at him. He’s a goddamn—”
“Max!”
Tad yanked on his tee and held up his hands. “It’s okay. I’ll go. I was leaving anyway.”
Scott grabbed his arm as he shuffled by. “I thought we were gonna hang out.”
Stiffly, Tad turned and met his eyes, wordlessly begging him to just let it go. He wasn’t prepared to deal with this shit. Had somehow forgotten all the other stuff involved when it came to “hanging” with Scott. Evidently that month-long episode of hard-core jonesing had him overlooking everything else. As if the shit didn’t matter. So, now all this animosity was seriously throwing him. He needed time to contemplate what the fuck to make of it.
Scott stilled at his expression, face shifting from pissed to grim. Sighing, he let go and motioned to the door. “C’mon. I’ll walk you out.”
Cursing, Max pivoted and stalked from the room. And thank fuck for that. All that bad-attitude snarling was getting fucking annoying. Though, why the guy was so pissed off, Tad didn’t understand. What had he done? Let Scott kiss him? Fuck him? Did Max feel like he had some kind of claim on the guy? With the way he’d been fuming, Tad couldn’t help wondering.
Whatever. Dick the Dom was nowhere to be seen and Tad was fucking leaving.
Swinging by the gym, he snagged his duffle and was outside in no time flat. Scott walked silently beside him, hands in his pockets and eyes on the ground. Tad tugged out his keys and chirped his Jeep to life, which got the guy to finally look up. Didn’t do anything to get him talking, though.
Tugging open the door, Tad tossed his bag inside, then forced himself to turn and look at Scott. He was leaning against the Jeep, arms crossed and looking unhappy.
“I’m sorry about Max. He can be a real douche.”
Tad shrugged. “The guy’s entitled to his own opinions.”
Scott’s face tightened. “Not about shit he doesn’t understand.”
Tad met his eyes and warily held them. “You sure he doesn’t? Sure sounded like he knew what he was talking about.”
“No,” Scott bit out, adamantly shaking his head. “He doesn’t know shit. He just—” He stopped and pinched the bridge of his nose, inhaling slow and deep. “He just doesn’t fucking know.”
Tad frowned and looked away, not sure he bought that. The way Max had glared at him down in that room? It made Tad feel like some kind of fraud. Or one seriously naive prick. Too self-absorbed in his own little mind fuck to see what he was doing to Scott.
An icy chill slithered through his veins. Jesus. What if the guy was right? What if he was nothing but a detriment, some no-good habit Scott would be better off kicking. God knew he’d been a head case from the moment they met. Was he dragging Scott down in the process?
Bile surged in his throat. He swallowed. Swallowed again. Then flat out groaned.
“Tad,” Scott groused, voice sad, subdued. “For the love of God, please stop thinking.”
Ugh. He was doing it again. Overanalyzing every aspect of their convoluted, fucked up deal. Clearly he’d mastered the art of beating a dead horse deader.
Exhaling heavily, he looked at Scott. He was watching him. Warily. Tad forced a chuckle and held up his hands. “All done. Promise.”
Scott narrowed his eyes, lips curving into a grin. “Mm hmm.”
Tad rubbed his brow and sighed. “Sorry. I think I’m just overwhelmed. By your place. Your roommate. And especially you. You’ve got this way of making me wonky.” He dropped his hand and stared at the guy. “You seriously need to cut that shit out.”
Scott lifted a brow, then barked out a laugh. “Alright. I concede. No more making you wonky. And next time we’ll hang out somewhere else.”
Next time.
Despite all the craziness, Tad still liked the sound of that. Nodding, he smiled. “Cool.”
Scott shoved off the Jeep and stepped closer. Tad stilled. As much as he loved when the guy got close—close enough that his scent made Tad’s mouth fucking water—Tad just couldn’t go there again. Not yet, at least. Max had been just too big of a buzz kill.
Scott growled, grabbed Tad’s nape, and pressed their brows together. “Don’t worry,” he murmured, as if reading Tad’s mind. “You’ve dodged the bullet… for now.”
Tad smiled. “Okay. I’m good with that.”
“Mm.” Scott nuzzled his cheek then stepped away, a genuine smile taking shape. “I’m glad we hung out.” His grin turned boyish. “For reasons other than the obvious. So, I’m gonna have to insist we do it again. And soon.”
Tad didn’t object. He wanted to hang out again. Besides, Scott had already made him promise not to stay away like before. Not that he’d ever try and do that shit twice. He suspected Scott knew that, though, considering how Tad fessed up to missing his punkass. Fresh heat thrummed beneath his cheeks.
Fuck it. Scott was awesome. He deserved to know how he felt.
Giving the dude a playful shove, Tad climbed into his Jeep and shoved his key into the ignition. As his engine fired up, he shot Scott a smirk. “Next time. My turf. Just so we’re clear.”
Scott laughed with a nod, then gave a salute. “Drive it safe, my man. I’ll see you soon.”
As Tad pulled away and headed toward home, he couldn’t help noticing how different this goodbye felt from the previous two. For one, Scott hadn’t left it up to Tad whether they’d keep in touch. He’d flat out put his foot down and insisted. Which Tad found… yeah, super-hot.
And even though Max had pissed on his “happy parade,” enough other positives remained to counteract. Like how well things had otherwise gone tonight, before shit hit the fan. He and Scott had clicked like champs. The guy had shared a bit of his life and Tad had eaten it up. And he was pretty sure Scott had sensed his overall “shift.” Approaching their deal with a go-with-the-flow mindset had made a world of difference.
Which, in turn, had made the entire evening utterly enjoyable. Tad honestly felt like he’d crossed some big bridge, and regardless of what exactly that meant, it felt fucking great to be across. For the most part, the night had been a win. Even the workout had been amazing. The first as well as the second.
Taking a left at the stop sign, he acknowledged his aching body… and smiled. He’d be sore for a week, and not just from weight lifting. Scott had left his mark again. Tad lingered on the memory, suspecting the guy truly enjoyed making sure Tad thought of him for days.
Not that he wouldn’t have anyway.
That choice was no longer Tad’s to make. It was like the guy had tattooed himself deep beneath his skin. And for reasons that were still a little bit hazy, Tad was cool with that. It seemed kind of appropriate, really. If Scott was going to be in his head, have his smell all over his body, then he might as well be in Tad’s bloodstream, too.
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SIDELINE SUBMISSION?
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Continuation of Tad’s journey in:
PRIZED POSSESSION
VOLUME FOUR
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UP-ENDING TAD:
A JOURNEY OF EROTIC DISCOVERY
LOSER TAKES ALL
TEST OF ENDURANCE
SIDELINE SUBMISSION
PRIZED POSSESSION
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