There was a long pause after my answer, and I couldn’t help wondering what he was thinking. Yes, I was a grown man who’d always known he was gay, but I’d never let myself experience it.
“Use me,” he replied, and that definitely got my attention.
I sat up and looked at him. “What? No, I couldn’t do that.” I shook my head.
“I’m pretty sure you could, especially since you just did. I’m safe. I would never expect more from you. Hell, we live on opposite sides of the country and both have busy careers that involve lots of travel. We won’t be able to see each other often enough for it to be anything more than orgasms. I know how to be discreet. It would just be sex. Sex you deserve to have.” The last sentence was softer and colored with what felt like sorrow.
“So you’d just, what? Be around to hook up whenever I wanted or had time?”
He rolled his eyes. “First, not whenever. I’d have to fit it into my schedule. Second, don’t make me out to be some kind of hero over this. It’s sex, Bashful, and you’re fucking hot. I’m selfish as shit. This is just as much for me as it is for you.”
Somehow, I didn’t believe him. Yeah, I figured he wanted me; that much was obvious. I knew I was an attractive man, but Weston wasn’t as selfish as he tried to make himself out to be. He was a good man, even when he tried to pretend he wasn’t. “I don’t know… I can’t…” Could we really do this? Could I really do it? My eyes trailed over Weston’s body, and that easily, my dick began to stir to life again.
I wanted him. I wanted him badly.
Weston stood up. My immediate instinct was to pull him back to the couch, to ask him to stay. My eyes landed on his erection. I licked my lips and wondered what his dick looked like, what he felt like, how he tasted.
Weston cursed, grabbed my wrist, and tugged me to my feet. I didn’t put up a fight, and before I knew it, his mouth was on mine. He didn’t kiss me the way he’d said he would. There was no starting out slow. His tongue parted my lips and stroked against mine, and he growled into my mouth and wrapped his arms around me until our bodies were aligned. He was so strong, so hard where women were soft. His masculine body felt good and right, and having him in my arms was heady.
He nibbled my lip, rubbed his hard cock along mine, and I craved. I wanted to fall to my knees and beg him not to go.
He kissed me the way it looked like he’d kissed that man the other night, his short stubble rough against my face. Weston thrust against me and sucked my tongue, then pulled back.
That, right there, was what a kiss was supposed to feel like. That had been…everything.
“Think about it. I’m not going to rush you. Contact me anytime either way.” Weston brushed his fingers over my cheekbone.
Then he pulled back, walked away, and left.
I stood rooted in the same spot, wishing I’d had the balls to ask him to stay.
Chapter Fourteen
Weston
What the fuck had I done?
Part of me had the only answer I needed—I’d offered to get off with a hot guy. But another part, one that only chose to come out to play sometimes, knew my offer had been a mistake. If I’d thought flying to Georgia was dumb, that was nothing compared to what I’d offered him. Such a big, dumb mistake.
I had no business with a guy like Anson Hawkins.
He was so far in the closet, he might as well be in another land. He had a whole hell of a lot to lose if someone found out, and I didn’t know if he was ready to face that possibility. He knew he was gay, obviously, but had he really accepted it? That was a hard one for me. As a kid, I’d hated who I was. Not a day had gone by when I hadn’t wished I could change it. I’d worked hard to get past that, to love myself. Anson wasn’t in that place. If there were a magic pill that would make him not queer, he would take it.
I wouldn’t. I loved being gay, and sometimes it was difficult for me to understand people who didn’t. Maybe that wasn’t fair. Everyone was different. I’d been in some dark places myself, but fairness and emotions didn’t always go hand in hand.
And yet…Anson had come…he’d come from his own hand pressing against his dick and my words. It had been one of the hottest things I’d ever seen, and frankly, it had surprised the shit out of me. If this was what Anson wanted, he deserved it. I couldn’t imagine feeling so trapped every day. If I could give him a brief feeling of freedom from time to time, I would, and I’d enjoy the hell out of it.