Yours All Along

by Roni Loren

  Devon held his breath for a second, knowing that being touched by a guy was a different mental place than being the one doing the touching. But after only the briefest of hesitations, Hunter tucked his hand into Devon’s open fly and wrapped curious fingers around his erection.

  The hot feel of Hunter’s palm on his bare skin made Devon groan aloud. “Jesus, fuck.”

  Hunter stroked a hand over him, tentative at first and then with more confidence. Devon pressed his forehead to Hunter’s shoulder, rocking into the delicious friction.

  “Damn,” Hunter said against the top of Devon’s head.

  “What?”

  “I was hoping you’d be smaller. No way is this gonna fit.”

  Devon laughed and looked up. Hunter was smirking, but a hint of apprehension lingered there.

  Devon put his hand over Hunter’s, slowing the stroke into a teasing, sensual glide as he met his eyes. “I’m not going to fuck you tonight. We’ve got lots of other things we can do. No need to go that far yet.”

  Surprise flickered in Hunter’s gaze. Surprise, relief . . . and maybe a little disappointment.

  Devon eased their hands from his pants. “Come on. There’s a big bed waiting, and you’ve still got too many clothes on.”

  “So do you.”

  Devon smiled. “Grab my bag and meet me in there.”

  Devon started undressing as he headed toward the bedroom. The lamps were on in the room and the design was minimalist. All white linens and gray everything else. A platform bed stretched across the middle of the room, made with sheets that didn’t have a wrinkle in them—a smooth white canvas he couldn’t wait to destroy. He stripped down to his boxer briefs and sat on the end of the bed.

  Hunter walked in a few seconds later and tossed the bag at Devon’s feet. His shirt was off and his jeans hung open and loose on his hips. His erection hadn’t flagged, and the view of all that honed flesh made Devon’s blood rush south. For a second, Devon wondered if this was all some erotic dream. This couldn’t be his best friend, half naked and hard and wanting him. Devon reached into the side pocket of his bag and pulled out what he needed, tossing the packet onto the bed. Hunter’s eyes followed the movement, but he didn’t ask questions.

  “Take everything else off,” Devon said, the urge to take control an impossible one to fight. He always liked to be in charge in the bedroom, but with Hunter the desire beat even stronger. Something about Hunter’s strength and size made Devon want to break him down. His mind fast-forwarded to nights down the line—nights after they’d built trust, nights where Devon could show Hunter just how rough-and-tumble he liked to get in the bedroom. But he had to reel those thoughts in. He wasn’t stupid. Tonight was a onetime blip in the universe. Hunter wanted to experiment. This wasn’t the start of a relationship. Hell, Devon didn’t do relationships. And he especially didn’t do them with closeted guys.

  Hunter held the eye contact as he toed off his boots and socks and then reached for the waistband of his jeans to shove them off. He kicked the clothes to the side and then stood, naked, proud, adorably nervous. “Girls don’t usually make me strip for them. They want to be the ones stripped.”

  “Well, they’re missing a helluva show.” Devon sat forward and reached for him, tracing his fingers over the deep V of Hunter’s pelvic muscle, making Hunter’s cock twitch. “You’re fucking gorgeous, man.”

  “You gonna strip for me?” he asked, his gaze going to Devon’s boxer briefs. “I think I’m at a disadvantage being the only naked guy in the room.”

  Devon gave him a slow smile as he stood. “You know, sometimes it can be hot for one person to be naked and the other fully dressed. But I’ll play fair tonight.”

  He slipped off his briefs and tossed them to the side.

  Curious eyes coasted down Devon’s body as Hunter took in the view. Devon could only imagine what he was thinking. They’d seen each other in various states of undress living together. But he doubted that Hunter had ever looked at another guy’s body through a sexual lens. Devon took himself in his hand and gave a casual stroke.

  Hunter rubbed his lips together.

  “You okay?”

  Hunter ran a hand over the back of his head, expression chagrined. “I guess this is where it gets real.”

  “Hey,” Devon said, getting Hunter to meet his eyes again. “If you’re not into it and want to stop here, it’s completely fine. We’re running an experiment, right? Results can come in at any time.”

  Hunter shifted nervously but then quickly shook his head. “No. I’m not not into it. Obviously.” He swept a hand indicating his unflagging erection. “I just—I’m not sure what to do.”

  Devon let out a breath, not realizing until then exactly how much he didn’t want the night to end. “If I were a girl, what would you do right now?”

  Hunter glanced at the waiting bed. “Lie down with you, kiss you, feel you up. Maybe tell you how hot you are.”

  Devon reached for Hunter’s hand and guided him toward the bed. “Sounds like a winning plan.” Devon sat on the bed and pulled Hunter down with him. “Want me to turn the lamps off? Might make it easier.”

  Hunter put a knee on the bed, crawling next to him as Devon lay back on the pillows. “No, I’m not a chickenshit. I don’t want any smoke and mirrors. I’m not going to hide from what this is, who you are. Eyes wide open, man.”

  Devon stared at him in wonder. This guy had no idea. No. Fucking. Idea. How goddamned amazing it was that he was so open and accepting. Devon had spent so much of his life hiding, feeling shamed, feeling broken. When he’d realized he liked guys, it’d been a death to the life he’d known. He’d gone from the kid with the big, loving farm family to an outcast—alone, afraid, abandoned. His family would never accept him. All of his ties to his hometown had been severed. And though he’d found a great group of friends here in California, he still got the side eye from some of the other students over how he was. But this kid, this man from the Deep South, whose family had raised him to abhor people like Devon, hadn’t flinched. He’d welcomed him as a brother from the start. Even if there was something sexual between them now, Devon knew that at the start that wasn’t the motivation. Hunter was just a good soul.

  And now he was here in this moment with Devon—vulnerable, open, and free of judgment both for Devon and for himself. Devon slid a hand into Hunter’s hair and dragged him down for a kiss. The tension in Hunter’s body relaxed the instant their lips met. Like all he needed to shrug off the nerves was that simple reminder—oh yeah, this. This is good. We’re good.

  They both sank into the kiss, their tongues twining and tasting, and after a few long seconds, Devon felt a hand coasting down his side. Hunter was exploring, mapping the unfamiliar terrain of his body. Devon shivered beneath the warm touch, the eager curiosity in it, and then indulged in some exploration of his own. He wrapped his arms around Hunter, letting his fingers run over the flexing muscles in his back all the way down to the curve of his ass.

  Hunter shifted, positioning himself fully over Devon, his erection brushing against Devon’s thigh, and he reached between them, cupping Devon’s balls and stroking. Devon groaned.

  Hunter broke off the kiss but kept his hand moving, his fingers dipping maddeningly close to Devon’s taint. “Guess I shouldn’t be on top, huh? I’m not sure what to do next.”

  “You’re good,” Devon said, reaching out to the side to grab the packet he’d tossed on the bed earlier.

  Hunter’s eyes tracked the foil square. “I thought you said—”

  “It’s not a condom, just lube.” Devon tore open the corner of the packet with his teeth and shifted beneath Hunter so he could use his hands. He greased up his own cock and then ran his hand over Hunter, making him slippery and hot in his hand.

  Hunter pressed his forehead to Devon’s. “Fuck that feels good.”

  “This is going to feel even better.” He adjusted himself beneath Hunter, aligning their now-slick erections, and then gripped Hunter’
s ass, guiding him against him, dragging their cocks against each other in a slow, heavy glide.

  Hunter shuddered. “God.”

  “I know.” Devon pulled him down for a kiss, and Hunter rolled his hips against him, the friction making Devon’s eyes want to roll back in his head. “Now we just have fun.”

  ***

  Hunter couldn’t stop the motion of his hips if he tried. The feeling of Devon’s shaft rubbing against his was unfamiliar and forbidden and fucking awesome. The sensations took him straight out of his head. It no longer mattered that he was getting off with a guy. It didn’t matter that he had no idea what he was doing. He wasn’t worried if he would look stupid or awkward. All he could focus on was slick, hot skin and the sounds Devon was making beneath him—those same filthy grunts Dev made in the dark when he thought Hunter couldn’t hear him jerking off. Dev was losing himself to this as much as Hunter was.

  Hunter broke away from Devon’s mouth and kissed down his neck, enjoying the taste of salty skin and exertion. Everything was so different—new. Devon was hard where Hunter was used to finding soft with women. And everything was rougher, wilder. Part of him wished he had more experience, because he had this urge to flip Devon over and just fuck him into the mattress—or maybe let Devon fuck him. He wasn’t sure which place he’d rather be. All he knew was that he wanted to hear him lose it. But based on the sounds Devon was making, he might get a chance to hear that anyway.

  Devon’s slick fingers gripped Hunter’s ass as he dragged Hunter against him over and over, their pace increasing, the mattress springs protesting beneath them. Everything felt alive, his body humming with sensation and his brain spinning. They grappled with each other, kissed, rutted. It was messy and sweaty, and Hunter didn’t want it to stop. He wanted to roll around with Dev and experiment, explore things he’d only thought about secretly in the dark. But his body wasn’t going to last for him. It all felt too good, too intense, too in the moment.

  Devon let loose a grinding moan, and Hunter braced himself on his forearms to look down at him. The man beneath him was transformed. His easygoing best friend was a beast—sweat slicked and primal, the desire burning in his eyes breath-stealing.

  Hunter could feel everything drawing up, going urgent at the sight. “Fuck, I’m close.”

  “Me, too,” Devon panted. “Can I touch you?”

  Hunter swallowed hard, knowing what Dev was asking but unable to drum up much resistance at the moment. “Go for it.”

  Devon’s lubricated fingers tracked over Hunter’s backside, easing between Hunter’s cheeks. Hunter automatically tensed, but then Dev rubbed over his rim, fingers slippery and skilled, waking up nerve endings Hunter had only recently discovered he had.

  A whole-body quaking worked through him. “Christ.”

  “Come with me, Hunt. I want to feel you blow all over me.”

  The dirty words and the feel of Devon’s fingers exploring Hunter’s most private spot left him hopeless in holding off things any longer. His hips thrust with a frantic, almost-painful rhythm, and a rumbling sound filled his throat as pleasure swelled, his release jetting out of him in a rush. Thick, hot fluid spilled between them, making everything slicker, messier, and then Devon was bowing up beneath him, his cock pulsing against Hunter’s belly as he got lost in his own release.

  Devon called Hunter’s name, burying his face against his shoulder, and holding him tight as he rode out the end of his orgasm. Hunter had never seen Devon so undone, and it did something to him, knowing he was seeing this private side of Dev, knowing he had done this to him.

  They jerked against each other in a few, tired aftershocks, and then Hunter rolled to the side, collapsing onto his back and sucking wind. Devon was taking labored breaths next to him as well, and neither of them said a word for a few long minutes, as if both were afraid one word would break the spell.

  Maybe it would.

  Hunter finally breached the silence first. “Well, that was . . .”

  Devon popped up. “I’m going to grab us some towels and get the shower going. You can have it first.”

  The words were simple, but awkwardness swept between them like a strong, cold gust of wind. Hunter cleared his throat. “Okay. Thanks.”

  Devon pushed himself up off the bed. “Be right back.”

  Hunter turned his head to watch him go. His best friend, his roommate, was bare assed and sticky with Hunter’s come. It was too much to process. His head hurt, like the pressure of water building behind a dam—all these thoughts he didn’t want to pick apart and make sense of demanding attention. And based on the stiffness in Devon’s movements as he walked into the attached bathroom and grabbed towels, the guy was freaked out, too.

  “Why are hotels so stingy with towels?” Dev said, his words too fast, too stilted. “We’re going to have to call for more in the morning. You would think at a place this nice—”

  Hunter swallowed past the tightness in his throat. “Dev.”

  Devon paused and peered back over his shoulder, wariness in his eyes. “Yeah?”

  “If we let this get weird, we’re going to fuck up everything.”

  Devon’s jaw twitched and then he let out a loud breath. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m not trying to make it weird. I just don’t know what I should say. I’m the experienced one here. I should be asking if you’re okay, right? Are you okay?”

  Hunter draped an arm over his eyes, the adrenaline from their encounter cooling and reality settling in. He’d just had some version of sex with his best friend. “Not sure.”

  “Fuck,” Devon groaned. “See. I knew this was a bad idea.”

  Hunter lifted his head, any remaining afterglow blinking out of existence at that. “What?”

  Devon swiped the towel over his chest and then turned around and knotted it around his waist. He stepped back into the room and tossed a fresh towel Hunter’s way, tension tightening his features. “This is my fault. I let things go too far. Look, seriously, you don’t have to panic. I—this doesn’t have to mean anything. This doesn’t mean you’re—”

  “Gay?” Hunter’s stomach wrenched at the word, but he tried to keep his expression smooth as he grabbed the towel and cleaned himself up.

  “I was going to say bi. We’ve already established you like women.” Devon sat on the edge of the bed. “But all I’m saying is that it doesn’t have to mean anything. I slept with a girl in high school. Didn’t mean I was straight or bi. I was just trying things out to see what I liked.”

  “And did you like it?”

  “It wasn’t terrible. We both enjoyed ourselves well enough. But it also wasn’t for me.”

  And that was part of the problem. Hunter’s skin hadn’t gone clammy and his heartbeat jumpy because he’d hated what he’d done. He’d enjoyed the hell out of it. But what that could mean about him hit him with more force than he was expecting. In the privacy of a hotel or their room at the frat house, he could be whoever he liked with Devon. But outside of those walls, the impact of that kind of relationship on his life would be far-reaching and potentially catastrophic.

  “Hey,” Devon said softly, giving Hunter’s knee a squeeze. “You’ve gone ten shades of white. Take a breath and look at me.”

  Hunter looked up.

  “Listen to me, Hunt. You don’t have to make it a big thing. We drank a little too much. We fooled around. That’s it. Even if you decide you might be bi, it doesn’t mean anything has to change. Bi means you have another option—an option that people readily accept. I would never tell anyone about what happened between us. No one ever has to know you went there. Your friends, your family. They’ll never know. And I don’t expect anything more from you than friendship. Just because we did this once doesn’t mean we have to do it again. You wanted to experiment. We did. Now we can just shower, get drunk, and eat our way through the room service menu.”

  Hunter gripped the towel tight in his hands, letting all of that sink in, trying to keep the anxiety at bay. Devon was right. This
didn’t have to change things. The question was—did he want it to? He let out a long, tense exhale. “A drink sounds fucking fantastic.”

  Devon smiled. “You jump in the shower. I’ll make the call.”

  Devon moved to get up, but Hunter grabbed his forearm. “Dev, even if this was a mistake, I’m glad I made it with you.”

  Devon’s smile stayed in place, but something sad flashed in his eyes. “What are friends for if you can’t make mistakes with them, right?”

  “Right,” Hunter said without any enthusiasm.

  Devon slipped out of his grasp then and headed to the living room without looking back.

  That’s when Hunter finally let the panic fully take over. Bright, blazing panic.

  He might have been able to handle the idea of being bi.

  He might’ve been able to handle that he’d fooled around with his roommate.

  But what he couldn’t handle was the realization that he was falling in love with him.

  Chapter 9

  College—2 weeks later

  Devon should’ve skipped the goddamn party. He rarely put in more than an appearance at Thursday night keggers at the frat house. It was all about getting wasted and getting laid, which meant cheap beer and lots of girls. Not his scene. But he’d promised Ahmed that he’d introduce him to Jory, the girl from his accounting class. So until Jory showed up, Devon had parked himself on the couch with a beer in an attempt to look like he was participating.

  It had all been going fine until an already-buzzed Hunter had plopped onto the couch across from him with some blond chick hanging off him. The girl was wearing white pants that looked like they’d need to be surgically removed from her skin and a shimmery top that kept catching the light and making Devon’s eyes hurt. She had a Solo cup clutched in her hand and was rambling on about how hot Hunter looked when he wore his baseball uniform, her syrupy accent dripping all over him. Hunter had a drunken, tilted smile on his face that either represented interest or complete oblivion. Devon couldn’t tell.