Getting Him Back (12 page)

I wasn’t stupid enough to go imagining our whole lives together like I had with Blake, but in my world, sex was awesome. Sex with Wyatt was even better than awesome and I liked being around him. I would settle for him just coming by so we could talk about whatever was bugging him. Though, sex being awesome and all, I couldn’t see why we shouldn’t be doing it every time Connor went to go spend the night at Amy’s. Or say, left the room for an hour. But with my new, improved adult view on things, there were midterms and work-study hours in the Res Life office. And besides, I still didn’t have Wyatt’s number.

At least a week of midterms kept me too busy to complicate my life with guys I was avoiding or wishing were not avoiding me.

By Friday the halls were buzzing with a post-midterm party energy and all I had was dread.

I knew I’d nailed the biology midterm. Freshman comp was a timed writing exercise and I was king of improvised bullshit. The short story test was matching, like junior high, and I only had to turn in some touchy-feely journal observations to please my educational sociology professor.

But calculus.

I wish the campus zombie plague had been real enough because being eaten alive would have been better than that midterm. I swore when it settled in front of me I thought the whole thing was in some combination of Russian and Arabic letters that I couldn’t read at all. I had never failed a test in my life and I honest-to-God thought I would pass out for a minute, drowning in hot and dizzy waves. After the panic ebbed, I managed to figure out about three of the questions. The problem was, there were ten of them and I ran out of time before I could make marks on five.

Even now the unfamiliar sensation of failing, of letting my parents down, of being that kid who didn’t get it, kept me stuck to my bed while people whooped and thumped on the hall walls.

Humans vs. Zombies was starting up again tomorrow. Connor was rabid about the Halloween finale the game runners had planned. “The engineering students design this mega corn maze and the top players get turned loose in it—with paint guns. It’ll be epic.”

Actually it sounded terrifying. It was fun on campus, turned a boring slog over to the bio lab into an adventure, but running through a corn maze whether as a zombie or a human did not appeal. In fact, I think there had been a
Twilight Zone
episode about cornfields that should have been a cautionary tale for everyone. I was glad I’d been eliminated too early to be considered a top player. I’d been rebooted after the bonus game, but I wasn’t as focused as Connor.

At around eight, a lot of the banging and yelling had moved on to specific party locations, and Connor was shoving a couple things into his backpack before going to Amy’s. The knock on our door was quiet, not like the banging earlier. I remembered that soft knock. A bolt of energy shot me off my bed so I could yank it open before Wyatt had a chance to vanish again.

It
was
him. The relief washing through me made me need to hang a hand over the top of the door for balance. “Hi.” It sounded a lot more casual than I felt.

“Hey.” Wyatt looked a little surprised to find me there, in my room, where I had assumed he’d come to see me.

We looked at each other for a minute.

Connor’s voice behind me was a shock because I’d almost forgotten he was there. “So. Hey. I’m taking off. Probably won’t be back till afternoon tomorrow.”

“Yeah. Okay.” I stepped away to let him get out and for Wyatt to come in. “Wyatt. Connor.” I offered the introductions, praying Wyatt didn’t see Connor as a reason to vanish.

Wyatt nodded at Connor who nodded back.

“See ya, Ethan.” Connor edged past our little staring contest and closed the door behind him.

I took a breath, though I wasn’t sure what was about to come out of my mouth. It didn’t matter because Wyatt closed the distance between us, kissing me like his life depended on it. His fingers went right into my hair, and I would have taken it as a suggestion to drop to my knees if his other hand on my back wasn’t pinning me against him. Since he got off on playing with my hair, I shoved his hood back and slid my hands through his. His skull fit perfectly in the cradle of my hands, warm and solid, but fragile when I thought of what was underneath.

Wyatt spent so much time hidden under his hair and sweatshirt. That he trusted me to see and touch all of him made me feel powerful and protective. I tried to share that in the kiss, ease him back from the frantic hunger, but he made one of those moans in the back of his throat and the sound went right to my dick. I stroked my tongue deep into his mouth until we were both desperate for air.

Wyatt let go of me and stepped back just far enough that he didn’t elbow me as he yanked his sweatshirt and T-shirt off. He had a new smile on his face, one that was confident and sexy. He reached for the hem of my shirt and I let him pull it over my head. He ran his hands from my neck to my shoulders, watching my face as his palms settled over my nipples.

I smiled back at him, then my mouth parted on a gasp as he dragged a nail over the nub that shot a tingle to my balls. Holding on to his waist, I let my head drop back.

He kissed my neck and my jaw. “I want to fuck. But don’t—I don’t want to talk.”

I ground my hips into his. I liked bold Wyatt. He made me want him to throw me down on the bed and have his way with me. “Do you want to fuck me?”

His forehead landed hard on my collarbone and he shook.

“What’s wrong?”

When he raised his head, I saw that he was laughing soundlessly. “What part of ‘I don’t want to talk’ did you miss?”

I was glad I could amuse him by offering to let him shove his dick up my ass. “Well, some parts of fucking need a little communication.”

He sighed, but it was more resigned than frustrated. “Fine. I want you to fuck me. That’s all. Though I might want to try sucking your dick first if that’s okay.”

It was more than okay. “All right. Let me move—”

“And I don’t want to talk. At all. I don’t want to think, Ethan. I want to get out of my head, be here with you. Let’s just fuck.”

I started to answer him, then nodded because I wanted that to happen more than I wanted to talk and find out if he was going to take off after again.

He grabbed the waistband of my jeans and popped the button, then slid a hand in over my boxers, pressing them against my cock as his wrist forced the zipper down. My dick was urging my hips to move, to find pressure that would do more for it than a palm on the shaft, but I hesitated. Maybe his no-talking rule also meant not pushing what was happening between us. I didn’t want any of this to stop because I made a mistake. He pulled his hand back, then tucked it inside my boxers.

I tried to make my stomach as concave as possible to give him all the room he needed. A brush of his knuckles, then his fingers were on the head of my straining dick. His thumb stroked me, rubbing under and across the head, then he gave the shaft a few tugs. I was already hard and he dragged me up to full-on stiff and ready. With the strength in my legs compromised by lack of blood flow, I staggered a step toward the bed. His arm around my waist stopped me when I went to sit. There was that grin again as he hauled my jeans down, followed by my boxers with a lot less care than I would have used getting the elastic over my dick.

I hissed, and he didn’t offer an apology as he pushed me back on the bed. But since his next action was to kneel between my legs, I decided to let him make it up to me by kissing it better.

People who say there’s no such thing as a bad blow job have never had one bad enough. Teeth hurt and having someone gag to the point of running to heave is not sexy. We all have to start somewhere though, so despite my apprehension, I stayed still and silent as Wyatt held my dick at the base and lowered his mouth to the head. The first touch was tentative, like he was worried about the taste.

“You don’t have to—”

He stopped me with a glare. I snapped my jaw shut and leaned back on my elbows.

The next attempt was wet and hot and I sank into the sensation of his mouth on me. He went deeper, coughed and scraped me with his teeth as he backed off.

I bit my tongue to stay quiet.

He took a different approach on his third try, kissing the head, using his tongue like he was sliding into my mouth and damn, that would work. It was messy, the pressure erratic, but it still felt good. Then his hair brushed my thigh, rubbed silkily over my balls and I remembered whose mouth it was. It was Wyatt with his pouty lips and prickly attitude and suddenly it was better than good. I looked down, saw that white streak of hair from his forehead and had to pin my hips to keep from fucking into his mouth.

“Yeah,” I breathed the word softly and hoped he wouldn’t stop because I’d broken his rule.

Instead, it made him go harder. He got his hand involved, timing it with the movement of his mouth and things started to approach the point of no return.

“God. Jesus. Wyatt.” I fell all the way back, neck crooked against the wall and slipped a hand through his hair.

The head of my dick hit the back of his throat, slick hard pressure, plus the draw from him sucking pushed me too high. I yanked on his hair. “Wyatt. Stop. I’ll come.”

He pulled off my cock and gave me that smile. Knowing how it felt to make a guy all crazy like that, I smiled back and pushed his hair off his face. He slid his closed mouth back and forth over the slit. He’d come a long way from not being sure if he liked the taste to using my precome as lip balm.

I opened my mouth to tell him that, then shut it. My good behavior was rewarded when he slipped off his jeans and boxer briefs and joined me on the bed. I got him lubed and ready with him on his knees like I had the last time, but when I pulled at him to turn him over he wouldn’t go.

I condensed it into as few words as possible and whispered them in his right ear. “Angle’s better. Plus kissing.”

He shook his head against the pillow.

I wanted to watch his face, to have something to go on besides the way he moved his shoulders. But he was the one offering up his body for us to share space in, and that gave him the right to decide how he wanted to feel it.

I slicked my cock with lube and knee-walked close to his ass. It was a much trickier angle. I ended up having to brace a foot on the mattress to get the leverage I needed to go in and I knew it wasn’t right.

He was too tight. All of him. Shoulders, thighs, breath, ass. All of it telling me to back off. So I did.

He broke his silence. “Do it. Please.”

I was the one who didn’t answer. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to put my cock in him. And there were lots of things I could say.
Trying.
Relax
.
Gimme a sec.
But all of those things sounded stupid in my head and if he’d said then to me, they’d piss me off, so I just rested my dick against his hole. Concentrating on the way the muscle twitched, I waited for it to relax. The tension eased and I pushed.

He groaned.

I wondered if I’d ever get used to the way those sounds echoed through my dick when I was in him. I tilted my hips for a bit more thrust and sank in right down to my balls. He shuddered, or maybe I did. It was hard to tell who started it.

I moved his thighs a bit wider, and that gave me the angle I needed to press in without my foot braced. He rocked on me, grinding his ass against my pubes so I figured we were good to go. I grabbed his hips and started fucking. The sound he made, a sharp whine in his breath every time I drove in, made my balls tight and my chest loose. He slammed back to meet me and my ribs spread open, the space so big I could wrap myself all around him and store him inside. Safe. Mine.

One of my hands was in his hair before I realized what I was doing.

I pulled on his hair and the sound he made wasn’t like any complaint I’d ever heard so I did it again, first twisting his head, then using my other hand under his chest to lift him up and over my thighs, so he was practically in my lap, suspended on my dick.

“Oh, fuck.” He breathed it out, slowing for a minute, his muscles shifting, grabbing at my dick in a brand-new set of ways. I held on to him so I could hold myself back from going at him like a jackhammer. He shifted again, and my teeth sank into his shoulder as I fought back a scream. So much sensation, from the slam of my heart in my chest to the ache in my balls and the hot, slick texture all around my dick.

The need to fuck hammered through me. It burned in my thighs and my hips and my dick, but I sucked up a hickey on his neck and waited. He rocked, and I drove up. His body reacted, his breath pushed out of his body by my cock. It drove me higher, drunk on sex. With Wyatt.

The way he let me in when he worked so hard to lock everyone else out made me hyperaware, craving proof that I was making it worth it for him.

We worked together, and I kissed his neck, licked the bruise I’d made with my teeth as he grabbed his dick and started to jerk off. I put my lube-slick hand over his and he sighed. I looked over his shoulder to see him slide through our fists, the pump of my hips forcing his cock forward.

My whole body flooded with heat, spiking up with every desperate sound he made. I loved holding him like this, feeling him pulse around me, but it wasn’t enough, and I had to...

“Fuck. Sorry.” I whispered it in his ear and drove us both forward, fucked him into the mattress with hard quick jabs of my dick. I arched above him, pinning him with hands on his wrist and shoulder.

His ass humped up into me, his hand sounding fast and rough on his cock over the slap of my balls on his ass.

A sound vibrated between us, something between a growl and a whine, and I felt him come. Not his jizz, but his ass sucking me in and locking down on me, his body jerking through the spasms as he shot.

Now,
now
, I told my body, but I couldn’t quite find it.

He sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, and I started to ease back. My dick plowing his ass probably didn’t feel all that good now that he’d come.

He reached back for my thigh. “Finish in me.” He stretched both hands in front of him.