Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 82508 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82508 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
“I’m not going to let you win,” Jacobs says through gritted teeth.
“That’s not what I mean.”
“Doesn’t faze me. My best friend is bi.” He shrugs, but it’s jerky.
Hmm. It again raises the question of what happened between him and Grant, if anything.
“All right, then.” I step closer and press against him.
His eyes widen. “Wait … like … right now?” He turns his head. “Should we wait for Cohen?”
Rossi waves him off. “He knows what it’s like for two guys kissing, evidently.”
Jacobs nods. “Right, then.”
Our gazes lock, and I swallow hard.
It happens in a slow motion, movie-like build up where we slowly move our heads together. Closer. Inch by inch.
I feel his breath ghost my lips and suddenly become aware of all of him.
His height. His build.
The dark scruff on his usually cleanly shaven face.
I’m frozen. Even if I wanted to pull away right now I couldn’t. I’m gonna win this shit by default because for some reason, Jacobs being this close to me, his lips right there, has my interest piqued in a different and unpredictable way.
It has nothing to do with hockey or being captain.
I don’t think it even has to do with winning or losing this stupid game.
It’s more than that. It’s … different. It’s—
His mouth closes over mine, the kiss soft and unsure. I contemplate letting him take the lead, but as if I’m not in control of my own body, my tongue darts out for a taste of his lips.
I expect him to freak out—I’m freaking out and it’s my tongue that’s doing it. Instead, he pushes against me harder.
Then I feel it, the brush of his tongue against mine.
He’s kissing me back. And not a bet type of kiss. They never said we have to use tongues.
Jacobs’s mouth opens the tiniest bit, and I dive in, not even caring we’re in a room full of people or that this is a joke.
If he calls me on it, I have the excuse I was trying to get him to pull away.
I ignore the snarky comments and quiet laughter that surrounds us and focus.
The scruff around his mouth is rough against my skin, a sensation I’ve never experienced before. I can’t say I hate it. Fuck, I think I like it.
Oh shit. I might like it too much.
My dick twitches and hardens in my jeans.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Think of things to deflate my dick.
Dead puppies.
Professor Morley.
Jacobs legit groans, and it’s the most erotic sound I’ve ever heard.
Kissing has never been like this. Kissing is supposed to be anticipation.
It’s a teaser.
A taste.
It’s supposed to build and grow, becoming hotter and needier over time.
It doesn’t start with explosions. At least, not in my experience.
Now I’m fully hard, and what the actual fuck?
I pull away. “Nope, nope, nope. I’m out.”
“Whoa,” Cohen says. I didn’t even hear him come back in.
“What?” I snap at him.
“I think we’re all a little gay after that. That was hot.”
Rossi slaps Cohen’s shoulder. “Still only you, dude.”
The rest of the team laughs, but I’m too fixated on Jacobs to care.
His lips are puffy and red, but then he breaks into a grin. “Two apiece, then.”
“Yup.” I turn and grab my gear and throw it over my shoulder. “Whatever. See you losers tomorrow.”
I hightail it out of there and don’t slow down until I cross campus and reach my dorm.
Only when I’m inside the safety of my room do I let go and sink against the door.
I have no idea what just happened, but I can’t help running my fingers over my lips trying to figure it out.
7
Jacobs
Unlike Beck, I stick it out through the team’s ribbing before getting the hell out. There’s a lump in my throat and anger boiling in my gut over being drawn into that so easily.
You could have said no.
I shove the voice of reason away because right now, I don’t want to be reasonable. Right now, I want to ignore the kiss and the feel of Beck’s body against mine. Ignore the hunger that burned in my chest when he pushed back into the kiss, the way his tongue fought mine for dominance.
A thrill races down my spine, but I quickly shake it off.
It’s barely been a few months since I decided I’m totally and completely straight, and no way am I going to let a stupid kiss with an irritating asshole get in my head. Either head. My traitorous dick doesn’t agree. It’s still fucking hard.
I get back to my room and try to relax, but I swear I can still taste Beck on my tongue. Feel his chest pressed against mine.
I know I can wash the taste of him away by brushing my teeth. I know I can go out and hook up and replace the memory of his kiss by making out with someone else.
And yet … both of those things hold zero appeal.