Project Hero

by Briar Prescott

  “Technically, there are blood vessels and capillaries in a penis, so it should be possible,” Andy says thoughtfully.

  “Okay,” I say with a choked voice. “Just to clarify, you were about to give me a blowjob, but you got sidetracked by dick hickeys?”

  Andy blinks and looks down at my, by now only half-hard cock. “Oops,” he says, but just as quickly, a determined look appears on his face. “We can fix this.”

  “I don’t think I’m in the mood any—” I start, but Andy wraps his fingers around my shaft and sucks the tip into his mouth, and I take back everything I was about to say because he’s absolutely right. He can—and does—fix it in an instant.

  Andy’s tongue slides over my hard flesh as he licks me. He pumps the hand that holds the base in synchronized rhythm with his tongue, and my hips snap forward. “Shit! Sorry,” I mumble, but Andy seems only more determined by whatever he sees on my face and hears in my voice. He pulls off me with an audible pop, and even that simple sound is turning me on like nobody’s business. “Don’t think,” he orders. “I can handle myself, just let go.”

  I nod because I know Andy is capable of anything he sets his mind to, so why not blowjobs, right? If he says he can handle it, he can handle it, and he’ll stop me if it’s too much. I start pushing into his mouth as he sucks me.

  Andy might never have given a blowjob before, but he’s a damn quick learner. He observes my reactions, taking in every moan and sound, adjusting his pace and the tightness of his grip according to whatever he sees on my face and hears in my voice. I’m mindless with pleasure and need in no time at all, pumping into his mouth with abandon.

  “Andy,” I choke out. So close. I’m so close.

  Andy locks his gaze with mine, and I feel his other hand between my thighs as he cups my balls and rolls them between his fingers.

  “Andy,” I repeat. It’s a warning and praise in one because his name seems to be the only thing in my mind. Andy looks nervous for a second, but then the same determination that was there at the beginning takes over once again. He doesn’t pull off. He sucks harder, and I let go. I throw my head back and my spine arches as I come into his mouth. My dick spurts so much cum that some of it runs down from the corner of Andy’s mouth. It’s the hottest thing I’ve seen in my life.

  It takes forever for my body to relax, and when it does, I slide down onto the floor. My ass hits the cold tile, but I don’t care. I’m in orgasm heaven, and it’s fucking spectacular.

  Andy kneels in front of me, a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. “Was that okay?” he asks.

  “Jesus.” I swallow hard before I pull him to me so that he can straddle my thighs. I take his face between my palms and kiss him hard. “That was incredible,” I say, and Andy smiles brightly like the sun, as my insides go all gooey and happy.

  Later, we lie on the couch and talk about nothing in particular.

  I’m not in the market for a boyfriend. Relationships take time and effort and all my energy goes into hockey right now. I may not become an NHL superstar, but I damn well intend to leave my mark as a coach. To do that, I can’t afford any distractions.

  But when Andy looks at me with hesitation as he starts to leave sometime around noon and asks, “So… I’ll see you around?” with that hopeful expression on his face, my heart beats faster and excitement bubbles in my stomach like a fizzy drink.

  I pull Andy to me and plant a firm kiss on his lips. “Tonight,” I say and the smile he sends my way is blinding.

  17

  Andy

  Before I know it, it’s the beginning of July. Where has the time gone? The summer classes end at the beginning of August, so I effectively have about four weeks to help Law’s hockey players pass Shaw’s class.

  The tutoring is going better. I haven’t fallen on my face again. Nor have there been any episodes of fainting or puking. I’m far from okay with standing in front of the makeshift classroom, and the thought of my tutoring sessions usually makes my throat dry and my palms sweaty, but it’s getting better. The process is slow, but there is some progress.

  It doesn’t hurt that every time I get nervous, Law is there to distract me. And while I’m still struggling with my tutoring role, Law is a natural when it comes to our very own, private tutoring sessions. We’re taking things slow at Law’s insistence. I guess he doesn’t want there to be any regrets, which is probably smart. If it was up to me, we’d probably already have gone the whole way, but Law has a different approach. We’re learning each other’s bodies and preferences slowly, in the most enjoyable way imaginable, and I’m not complaining one bit. The things Law can do with his hands and his mouth should probably be illegal. Hell, who am I kidding? They probably are illegal in some parts of the world.

  I’ve always been a good student, but under Law’s skillful hands, I excel. I love teasing him and tasting him. I love the way his breath hitches when I lick over an especially sensitive spot. I love finding erogenous zones on Law’s body. I love to watch him lose control and know that I was the one who helped him get to that point, where the only thing he can feel is mindless pleasure.

  Today, however, even the images of our nights together can’t quell my nerves. To mark the halfway point of the summer courses, Shaw gave the guys a test, and they’re getting the results back today. So I’m sitting in the library, but instead of working, I stare at the clock on the wall, counting down the minutes. Even though I’ve only been tutoring them for about a month, I still feel like they’re my students. So if they fail, it’ll also be my failure, which would really be a nail in the coffin of the teaching career I’ve tentatively started to consider again. I mean, I haven’t puked on anybody, so it must be a sign from God that He approves and is nudging me in that direction.

  Well, I should say I haven’t puked yet, because when my phone rings a minute later, and I see Law’s name on the screen, I definitely feel queasy.

  “So?” I croak into the phone instead of a greeting.

  “You in the library?” Law asks.

  I nod for several long seconds before I realize that Law can’t see me. “Yeah,” I manage to say.

  “I’ll be there in five.” And then he hangs up.

  I stare at my phone because, what kind of a depraved monster leaves another person hanging like that?

  Law’s saving grace is that it only takes him three minutes to get to my desk. Then again, it’s three minutes too long, which means I’ve let anxiety overtake my brain, and am now certain that they’ve all failed.

  Law takes a seat next to me and raises his brows at whatever he sees on my face. “Dude, why do you look like you’re about to pass out?”

  “I’m fine,” I mutter, even though evidently, I don’t look the part.

  “You sure about that?” he asks.

  I swallow hard. I’m not ready to hear how badly I’ve failed. Maybe if I can postpone it just a little bit it will be easier? I fan myself with my hand. “Is it hot in here? I feel hot. Let me just get myself a bottle of water. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  Before I can stand up, Law has placed a bottle in front of me. “You’re in luck. I just filled it up.”

  There goes my plan of climbing out the window and hitchhiking to Canada.

  I take my time drinking, but I can’t guzzle the whole thing, so all too soon, I’m forced to face the music. I cross my fingers and send up a quick, silent prayer. “Okay, lay it on me.”

  “They passed. Every single one of them.” The words rush out, accompanied by the biggest smile I’ve ever seen on Law’s face. “There were even two A’s,” he adds, looking dazed.

  I’m one to talk. I’m not in better shape. I’m having a hard time even hearing Law through the roar of blood in my ears. “Really?” I need to confirm that he said what I think he said, because I can’t seem to believe it.

  “It was a total triumph. Well, Kevin triumphed with a D, but that was better than everybody expected, so we’ll call it a win for now. And it’s all thanks to you.”r />
  I let out the breath that I’ve been holding for what feels like hours. I’m ridiculously relieved by the news. I don’t think I had as much to do with those grades as Law seems to think I did, but at least I didn’t make things worse.

  “Congrats,” I say. My smile could probably rival the Cheshire Cat’s.

  Law slumps in his chair. It looks like he’s relaxed for the first time in weeks. “I don’t know how to thank you,” he says.

  “We still have four weeks to go, so you’re not allowed to express any gratitude yet.”

  Law laughs, happy and carefree, at least for today, and I smile. I’m not going to rain on his parade with any more of my realism. Let him feel good about how things are going.

  He stretches out his legs and places his hands behind his head. “And now I’m going to sit here and watch you work. It’s the best way to relax, and after the summer I’ve had so far, I feel like I deserve it at least a tiny bit.”

  I laugh and push my laptop away. “Sounds festive.”

  “Sounds lame, huh?” Law grins, but then he straightens himself. “You know what we should do? Go out.”

  I don’t know what’s wrong with my mouth, or my brain for that matter, but the first thing that comes out is, “On a date?”

  Law looks confused for a second, and why wouldn’t he, when the tutor he’s hired is twisting his words to score a date? But then Law says, “Exactly.”

  My mouth falls open. Surely Law has better options for celebrating? I imagine the team is having a wild party tonight to let off some steam, so why would Law want to spend the evening with me?

  “It would be like practice,” Law adds. “If I’m going to help you with Asola, I need to see you in action.”

  Oh. So not really a date, then.

  “In action,” I repeat. This does not sound good.

  “Yeah. We’ll go on a pretend date. We’ll do the whole thing.” He ticks off items on his fingers. “Dress to impress. I’ll pick you up, or you can pick me up, whichever works for you. We’ll go to a nice restaurant. Talk. Flirt.”

  I swallow hard. “Flirt?” I ask with a faint voice.

  “You’re going to have to be on top of your game for Asola, so we need to practice.”

  “I don’t know how to flirt.”

  “Hence the pretend date.” Law stands up and stretches. “It’s a plan. I’ll pick you up in two hours.”

  “But…”

  “What?” Law asks.

  I have nothing to use as a good argument against doing this, other than the fact that I’m afraid I’ll make a fool out of myself, and I don’t think Law would consider that an acceptable reason to cancel the date.

  “Nothing,” I mumble.

  There’s no way I’m going to do well on this date.

  Law is buzzing the intercom precisely two hours later, and I drop the bottle of styling oil that I’ve been staring at for the last ten minutes, trying to remember what the hair stylist told me about using it. I buzz him in and curse as I’m forced to crawl under a bench by the door, where the bottle has rolled.

  There’s a knock on the door, and I slam my head against the underside of the bench. “Shit!” I crawl out from underneath it and open the door.

  And then I stare.

  Because, man, Law cleans up nice.

  It’s not like he’s been a slob so far. He always looks good, but now that he’s dressed in a nice pair of dark gray slacks and a purple button-down, it becomes painfully clear just how devastatingly handsome Law Anderson is.

  He quirks his brow at me and his lips twitch. “Hi. Can I come in?”

  “Uh. Sure. Of course. Step right into my humble abode,” I say and step aside, gesturing toward the inside of the apartment with a flourish. There might be something resembling a curtsey there as I watch him pass me. I can’t be sure since I immediately block that embarrassing part of the evening from my memory for good. Law gives me the side-eye, and he makes a valiant effort to restrain himself, even though he can’t help letting out a stifled laugh.

  The start of this date is super promising.

  I follow Law to the living room, but as I pass the mirror on my way there, I glance at myself, and I almost choke at the sight. The front of my dark blue shirt is covered in dust. It looks like I’ve been practicing my tie-dye techniques only in boring blues and grays. I guess it sums up my personality quite well.

  Nevertheless, I hold my head high as I face Law. “I’m gonna go change real quick. Wouldn’t want to show up on our date in my lounge wear.” And then I let out a shrill laugh.

  “Sure.” He manages to keep an almost straight face, bless him.

  I start for my bedroom, but when I pass Law, he stops me with his hand on my elbow.

  “What—” I don’t get to finish my question because Law kisses me softly. It’s a short kiss, almost chaste, and Law pulls away way too soon for my liking. He presses his lips to my cheek in another quick kiss, and his low voice rumbles through me as he says just one word.

  “Relax.”

  And I do.

  I take a deep breath and force my shoulders to drop. My nerves, which were wound tight like guitar strings, loosen a bit and the tight knot in my stomach eases. I nod as he smiles at me.

  I head to my bedroom and leave Law to wander around the apartment. I shuck off the dusty shirt as I open the door to my closet. Thanks to Tricia’s shopping trip I have a small selection of new clothes that a stylist has pre-approved. Since I told her my makeover was something I needed to better my chances of getting a job after I graduate, my new wardrobe is heavy on button-downs and slacks. I just grab a new shirt in a slightly different shade of blue.

  “So this is your room.” I whirl around at Law’s voice. He’s standing in the doorway, shoulder leaning against the frame, and he lets his eyes scan over me slowly and unashamedly. “It’s nice.”

  “Thanks.” My voice is husky as I return the favor. I can’t help it. I enjoy looking at Law. I like that he’s strong and tall, but somehow also possesses a kind of unexpected grace as he moves around. He commands attention. I don’t think it’s possible to look at anybody else when he’s in the room.

  “Sorry,” he says with a small smile. “I couldn’t let the opportunity of seeing you half naked pass me by.”

  I blush. It’s one of those chest-goes-red-like-a-tomato type blushes, which is most likely highly unattractive, so I quickly pull on my shirt. I drag my hand through my hair to get it out of my eyes. Curls flop around my face, and there’s a good chance that I look like I’ve just stuffed a pair of scissors into an electrical outlet, but it’ll have to do.

  “Ready,” I announce as I grab my jacket. Law is still staring at me with an unreadable expression on his face. “Shall we?” I prompt, not sure what’s with the intense look.

  “Absolutely.” Law smiles, and we head out.

  Even though Montpelier isn’t exactly a booming metropolis, it has a wide selection of restaurants, most of which I haven’t visited because of my less-than-excellent monetary situation. But I have some savings left even after Tricia’s shopping trip, so for once, I’m going to let loose, and not worry about my finances.

  Law has made us a reservation. The restaurant is small and cozy with lots of nooks and corners that make the dining experience feel more private. It’s a very nice place, which immediately makes me feel self-conscious, but then Law places his hand on my back as we follow the hostess through the restaurant to our table. My loud, nervous, I-don’t-know-how-to-behave-in-a-place-like-this heartbeat pounds even harder, and for a whole new reason. The fuck-I-hope-this-night-ends-in-Law’s-bed reason.

  We take our seats and that is when things turn awkward as hell, because I’m very much aware that Law is going through all this trouble for me, and I feel like I should repay him by being the best date ever. So I’m trying to think of something interesting to say to get the conversation rolling, but nothing good comes to mind. I read a fascinating article about the Crimean-Congo hemorrhagic fever
the other day, but I feel like depressing isn’t the mood I should go for here. I could flirt, but I’m not good at that, so I’m not banking on that option.

  Law is sitting there, a small smile on his face, and he doesn’t seem that bothered by the silence that has gone on for a long time by now.

  “So,” I eventually say. “Here we are.”

  Law’s lips twitch. “Yes.”

  “Umm… how exactly is this supposed to work?”

  “Well, we’ve safely arrived at the restaurant, so I’d say we’re on the traditional route so far.”

  “Ha. Very funny. I meant, what’s next? Should I just… say something sexy? How do these things usually go?”

  Law chuckles softly and looks me in the eye. The low lighting of the restaurant makes his emerald eyes dark and intense. “Just relax, Andy. You’re supposed to have fun on a date, not hyperventilate and worry.”

  “Really?” I say drily. “Because in my, admittedly, limited experience, dating is supposed to make you sweat like a pig and babble nervously until the guy you’re with suddenly gets a phone call informing him that his best friend has been in a helicopter accident and needs him to be there right that second to whisper faintly where a hidden treasure has been buried before he dies.”

  “Has that ever actually happened?”

  “Maybe not verbatim. I might have added the helicopter crash part to make myself feel better.”

  Law purses his lips. “On a good date, you’ll have fun,” he says with a solemn nod. “I’ll prove it to you.”

  Law takes the lead and starts asking me about school and my studies, and before I know it, I’m so into the conversation that any nervousness I might have felt has disappeared.

  I feel comfortable with Law. He’s seen me freak out over tutoring. He’s seen me embarrass myself. He’s seen me first thing in the morning. He’s seen me late at night. We’ve seen each other naked, for crying out loud. This guy knows me, the good and the bad, so I don’t have to try to be something I’m not.