by Susan Laine
“Huh?” Merry muttered in confusion—a breath before Boone bit into the morsel and kissed Merry on the lips, carefully using his tongue to ensure Merry got a good taste of the sweet treat too. French kissing was hard enough, Boone thought, without adding assorted goodies.
For a while they kissed leisurely, savoring the intimate touch and the sugary flavor. He had to admit, kissing Merry was awesome. Whatever mysterious appeal making out had, it had been there each time Boone got to enjoy this special treat with his best friend.
And that scared the bejesus out of him.
Merry pulled back, chuckling, and swallowed. “Gumdrops?”
“Nuh-uh. Sorry. That’s not an acceptable flavor. Plus they’re jelly beans.” Boone traced the shape of Merry’s lips with his fingertips because… well, because he had to, wanted to, didn’t think he’d survive not doing so.
Merry giggled, his eyes still closed, and tried to chase the fingers with his teeth. “That’s cotton candy. Was I right?”
Boone had eaten a pink one. “Yeah.” He left unsaid that an actual cotton-candy kiss was when you put a piece of cotton candy in your mouth, kissed your partner, and waited till it melted. They could always try that later—on their next kissing lesson.
Merry opened his eyes, clapped his hands, and smiled eagerly. “Awesome. My turn.”
With happiness buzzing in his heart and lust humming in his veins, Boone had never been so sure of any moment being perfect than the one they were sharing right then. Obediently, he closed his eyes and opened his mouth, waiting for the kiss and the flavor that came with it. He heard the small crunch of the candy’s soft shell breaking.
Then lips pressed against his own, and an insistent tongue made a foray into his mouth. If Boone could have purred like a petted cat, he would have. He kissed back, tasting not only the jelly bean but Merry as well. Their tongues dueled, but it was a friendly match, with neither seeking to be the victor.
When Merry pulled back, he giggled. “Well?”
Boone floated the last piece of candy over his tongue before swallowing. “Hmm, berry smoothie?”
“Correct.”
Boone opened his eyes and became spellbound by the light of joy dancing in Merry’s eyes. He really was… beautiful. “S-so… th-that was the candy kiss, also known as the mystery kiss. Did you like it?”
Merry laughed, a low, seductive sound that was quite uncharacteristic for him. Perhaps all the kissing was making him bolder and more self-confident. “Did I like the candy or the game or… you?”
“All of the above.”
“Loved it.” Merry sighed a little, his lewd grin morphing into a shy smile. “It never would have occurred to me that kissing could be… this much fun.”
Boone nodded. “It’s not all about technique or skill. Kissing’s supposed to be fun and sweet and hot, and… anything else two people can think of.”
Merry gestured to the jelly beans and strawberries. “Could a kiss work with other things too? Like… ice cream or whipped cream, chocolate or peanut butter, bubblegum or breath mints, or soda and Pop Rocks, maybe?” His tone got higher as his enthusiasm built.
Boone chuckled. “Yeah. And all those kisses have their own name.”
Merry cocked his head, studying Boone carefully. “How do you know them all? Have you done them all?”
Boone shook his head. “No. Since we did this last time, I’ve done research. I wanted to be ready if and when you wanted a second lesson.”
Merry smiled, his cheeks reddening a bit. “You’re such a Boy Scout.”
Boone acquiesced to Merry’s interpretation of his character with a gentlemanly bow. Merry pressed their foreheads together, exactly the way he had a week ago, and he traced the shape of Boone’s lips with his fingers, just as Boone had a moment ago. “You have the most perfectly kissable lips I’ve ever seen.”
Boone blushed at Merry’s sexy praise. “Thanks. I’d hate to be a poor kissing teacher.”
Merry laughed. “You could teach a master’s course, I assure you.” Then he gave Boone a fake-bashful glance behind his fluttering eyelashes, an act Boone had never seen before. “What’s next?”
Oh, Boone had plans all right. Lots of them. And he fully intended to carry out each and every one of those delicious kisses he’d spent the week learning.
Chapter 8
MERRY HOPED in his heart that Boone would do what he’d hinted at and actually make love with Merry. He wanted to believe he was reading between the lines correctly, that Boone really did want Merry.
“Hmm, more jelly beans?” Boone asked.
Merry shook his head. They’d done that kiss. They could practice it more later. Right now Merry needed to get serious. He’d spent the whole week thinking about this. He craved actual sex, hated being the only guy not having any. Of course, most of the guys were probably boasting and not getting any either. But Boone was here, and Merry trusted him and… loved him.
That love for a friend had changed. Merry wasn’t stupid; he knew that much. But how to convince Boone that they should take their relationship further? A kissing lesson was a good start and a great idea in every respect. In all honesty, Merry had forgotten about the girl he was supposed to be taking to the prom ages ago.
No, this was all about him and his best friend.
“Y-you….” Merry’s voice cracked, and he cleared his throat to start again. “Earlier you made a… you hinted at….” God, why were the words so hard to say out loud? Merry was growing frustrated by his inability to voice his wishes and desires.
As usual, however, Boone seemed either to be able to read Merry’s mind or be one step ahead of him. “I suggested we take this kissing lesson forward to a sex lesson. That the one you meant?”
Silent, Merry could only nod. Thank God Boone understood him so well. Saved him a lot of time and effort in the long run.
Boone smiled—a bit shakily if Merry read the expression right. He leaned forward, buried his face in Merry’s hair, and inhaled deeply. Merry gulped. The act felt intimate and bold. Boone’s nose brushed against Merry’s temple, and he placed a soft kiss there, so light it was as though Merry had been kissed by the wind.
“That was a sniff kiss and a temple kiss,” Boone explained as he withdrew.
Merry squirmed a little with impatience. But in his heart, he knew he didn’t want to rush this. These little teaser trailers shocked him to the core, turning him into a live wire. “How can that be a kiss? You didn’t even touch me.”
“In some cultures, kissing in public is frowned upon. A sniff kiss is… a compromise of sorts.” Boone winked at Merry, his irreverent grin widening to become wolfish. “Are you telling me you didn’t like it?”
Merry flushed. “I… it was fine.”
Boone chuckled. “Just fine? Hmm, maybe I’m doing something wrong.” Merry hustled to deny the mere idea, but Boone got there first. “Okay, how ’bout this?”
He leaned in again, and Merry closed his eyes with a sigh, the buzz of anticipation spreading heat through his body. Boone’s lips skimmed over Merry’s, the tickling touch driving Merry mad with lust he had never experienced before. Well, once before. Last week, actually, and with the same guy.
“What’s long and hard and has cum in it?” Boone whispered softly against Merry’s lips, startling him out of his sensuous reverie. Merry was sure he’d misheard, and he blinked at his best friend. Boone pressed a kiss to Merry’s lips, grinning like a loon. “A cucumber, of course.”
Merry broke into uncontrollable titters while Boone kept them close, their mouths still teasing each other until the touch turned into a full-blown kiss, as difficult as that was with both of them giggling like mad.
“What the hell was that?” Merry demanded to know as he pulled away and wiped tears of joy from his face.
“The laughter kiss or the joke kiss,” Boone replied. He leaned in to deliver more tender closemouthed kisses to Merry’s lips, the corners of his mouth, one lip, two, and sometimes missing entirely
, landing on Merry’s cheeks or jaw. “Your turn, sweetheart,” Boone added between kisses. “One-liners work best.”
Merry glanced upward, lost in thought. Then he grinned and flicked Boone’s lips with his own while murmuring, “If a dove is ‘a bird of peace,’ what is ‘a bird of love’?” He teased Boone with more little licks across his lips, determined to keep Boone in a state of constant arousal. “A swallow, of course.”
Boone started laughing, and Merry took the opportunity to try and kiss him silent. It was unsuccessful, but the kiss was awesome, with shared amusement and mingled breaths, lovely slurps and soft suction.
“You picked up the gist of that fast,” Boone praised.
Merry blushed. It wasn’t uncommon for Boone to say complimentary things. But in this context, with Merry sitting on his lap? Every word and deed took on a new meaning. “Thanks.” He yearned for more. Not just kisses, but Boone’s touch. “Next, please.”
“Oh, you’re so polite,” Boone purred. “Here we go.”
Boone embraced Merry tightly, kissed him on the lips—and then started tickling Merry’s sides, causing him to wiggle hard and burst into helpless guffaws.
“No. Stop.” Merry tried to get away from the poking and prodding fingers while trying simultaneously to stay close to Boone’s lips. Because no matter where Boone’s hands were, his mouth remained joined with Merry’s.
“That’s the tickle kiss. You like?” Boone needled mercilessly.
“You’re a fiend,” Merry accused him, but he couldn’t help smiling. He felt so good inside, as if all the joy, sensuality, and love in the world had been condensed into a bubble with the two of them tucked within, safe and sound.
“Am I now?” Boone quirked an eyebrow, and Merry had a bad feeling.
Boone kissed Merry on the lips, parted his own, softly sucked on Merry’s lower lip, and flicked his tongue tentatively at the seam. Merry craved a deeper kiss, so he moved forward, trying to catch Boone’s tongue.
Then Boone abruptly pulled his head back a couple of inches. Merry frowned. He leaned closer, managed to sweep his mouth across Boone’s—and then Boone drew back again, just a little bit but enough that their lips were parted.
“What are you doing?” Merry asked in vexation, his grip on the shoulders of Boone’s shirt tightening in a vain effort to keep him close.
Boone grinned mischievously. “That’d be the frustrating kiss.” Merry gasped. So Boone had given him a hard time on purpose. Boone chuckled seductively. “Don’t call me a fiend again.”
Merry was mightily tempted to test his luck but in the end decided against it. He wanted to kiss Boone, not chase him around the room. Although… that idea had merit in its own right.
“Fine. I won’t call you a fiend again, even if you’re being a cruel, sadistic dickwad who can’t stop being a—”
Boone stopped Merry’s rant quite effectively by kissing him silent. His tongue slipped into Merry’s mouth and lingered, teasing and coaxing a hot, desirous response out of Merry, who tilted his head, fused their lips together tight, and allowed his tongue to entangle Boone’s as their breaths mixed and they got used to each other’s taste.
When Boone finally pulled back, Merry was breathless, hot, and hard, and all the available evidence implied Boone was nearly there with him. Merry stared into Boone’s eyes. Boone’s pupils were blown and black.
“Th-that was the… the surprise kiss to… to prevent you from finishing your sentence,” Boone stammered. “After all, you were being mean to me.”
Merry drew in a sharp breath, eyes wide. “I was not! You weremmm—”
And then Merry’s mouth was full of Boone’s tongue, their lips fastened together as if with superglue. Merry sure didn’t mind, and he wrapped his arms around Boone tighter. Even through Boone’s T-shirt, Merry felt Boone’s body heat and the rippling of his strong, taut muscles, smelled his woodsy cologne and the spicy scent of soap on his skin—
Wait. Since when had Boone worn cologne… with Merry? And was that some fruity hair gel Merry caught a whiff of? And was Boone even wearing guyliner?
The answer to all of the above? Boone was behaving out of character. He did use aftershave and deodorant, like any decent, clean-cut young man, but rarely hair gel or guyliner, even if he did dye his hair in weird colors sometimes. Why had Boone gone to such lengths to groom himself tonight?
In the midst of the kiss, Merry had his epiphany.
Boone had wanted to look good and smell good for Merry on purpose. He’d wanted to make a favorable impression. A hot, sexy impression.
If someone had suggested that possibility to Merry a month ago, he would’ve laughed out loud. Boone primping for a guy he’d known since kindergarten? Impossible. Inconceivable. Yet the facts seemed to be self-evident.
That conclusion, however, implied that Boone cared about what Merry thought of him. And not just on the friend level. They’d dared each other to eat worms and held fart challenges under the covers during sleepovers when they were kids, for God’s sake. They’d seen each other in the buff, peeing, even jacking off. They exercised together nearly every day—running and swimming and lifting weights—so they’d seen, smelled, and touched each other at their worst: sweaty, gross, and disgusting.
In short, there was no reason for Boone to gussy up for his best friend.
Unless…. What if Boone cared about his appearance and presentation for some other reason?
The only motivation Merry could think of at that moment was… falling in love.
Boone’s in love with me.
Am I in love with him?
Chapter 9
“HEY, MER. Where’d you go?” Boone broke the kiss when he felt Merry going passive. He worried he’d done something wrong. “You okay? Was I too rough?”
Merry gave him a shaky smile and shook his head. “No, of course not. Sorry.” But he wouldn’t look Boone in the eye, and alarm bells went off in Boone’s head.
“You wanna stop?” He relaxed his hold on Merry’s back, resting his hands on Merry’s hips to show him he could leave anytime he wanted.
“No.” The emphatic tone and nearly frantic headshakes told Boone that Merry at least meant that. “Sorry. Just got a little lost in my headspace.”
“No problem. It happens.” Boone smiled reassuringly, hoping to alleviate whatever had made Merry grow so anxious.
Merry glanced between Boone’s eyes and lips, appearing fidgety and agitated again, as if he’d misplaced his relaxed mood somewhere along the way. “Is-is there more…?”
Boone was undone by the shy, hopeful tone Merry used. “Yeah. Plenty. Got tons more up my sleeve.”
Merry bit his bottom lip, looking coy and playful at once. “Really? ’Cause I was kind of hoping we’d… you know, ditch these sleeves. Or in our case, short-sleeve shirts.”
Boone’s heart thudded harder. His cock went from warm and half-hard to hot and rock-hard in a heartbeat. His innocent and inexperienced little Merry suggesting they get naked was the most awesome thing that had happened to Boone in ages. He could scarcely draw breath.
Before Merry could change his mind, Boone sprang into action.
He kissed Merry with all the passion, need, and love he felt at that moment. He ensured their lip-lock remained tight and fast and then gave the kiss his all, with lips, tongue, teeth, suction, breath, nibbles, and everything else he could think of. Yes, they’d done the french kiss many times by then, but it never stopped being freaking amazing.
As he kept kissing, Boone slid his hands underneath the hem of Merry’s T-shirt. Skin—warm and silky smooth and pliant. Boone damn near came in his pants. He lifted the hem slowly to reveal new patches of flesh: Merry’s sides and flat belly, his hairless chest and the curves of his pecs, his collarbones and neck. Finally Boone broke the kiss just long enough to yank the shirt off completely.
“Ahh,” Merry gasped a second before Boone conquered his mouth again, ravishing Merry with a pent-up yearning he’d not known boiled withi
n him until that exact moment.
“Can you guess what this kiss is called?” he asked, taunting his lover-to-be.
“Hmm? Nuh-uh.” Merry had no strength in his voice; it was a mere breathless exhale.
Boone watched him even as they kept kissing. Merry’s eyes were open, same as Boone’s. Their lips touched and their eyelashes fluttered as they blinked, but they never broke eye contact. A connection beyond words seemed to form between them, a magical bond they’d only had hints of as friends.
“Open-eyed kiss?” Merry suggested in a husky whisper, his voice and expression raw, exposed, and vulnerable. Boone’s protective instincts kicked into high gear, and he swore to himself he’d never hurt Merry or allow any harm to come to him.
“Yup.” Boone slipped his hands lower to pop open the top button of Merry’s jeans. “But taking off your shirt and… and this right here? The strip kiss.”
Merry chuckled, looking perfectly edible and cute. His gaze wandered down to where Boone was busy unzipping Merry’s fly. As soon as Boone had finished, Merry’s boner pushed the flaps aside. They gasped simultaneously, and their gazes met.
“S-still wanna do this?” Boone asked and swallowed hard.
Merry blinked. Then he nodded slowly, hesitantly. Boone figured they were both unsure if they should proceed. Yet both of them clearly wanted to.
Taking charge, Boone gripped Merry’s waist, lifted him up from Boone’s lap, and then lowered him onto the floor on his back. Merry panted harshly, his cheeks flushed, his eyes dark, and his lips glistening and red from all the kissing.
Boone clutched the waistband of Merry’s jeans and slowly eased them down past his hips. Merry obliged by bending his knees a bit and raising his butt off the floor to help. Boone enjoyed the experience, inching down the jeans leisurely, allowing his fingertips to follow the downward path over Merry’s skin, his legs cool.
Soon, though, Merry’s pants went flying over Boone’s shoulder, as did his socks.
