Out in the Offense (Out in College 3)

Rory’s eyes sparked with a ready humor that set me at ease. “I bet. I don’t want to ruin anything for you, but the only time I ever go to Starbucks is to meet you.”

“Oh.” I took another drink and willed myself not to act like a dweeb. I wanted to stare at his muscles, trace his tattoos. And fuck, I wanted his hands on me.

“You must have been traumatized when we saw each other in the parking lot a few hours ago,” he joked. “No coffee, no stats book…just me.”

“I liked it,” I said lamely.

“Me too. How’s your knee?”

“Fine.”

“Good. Come dance with me.”

Rory plucked my glass from my hands before I could argue. He set it on the bar, then slipped his hand in mine and led me through the mass of sweaty, dancing men. Music vibrated, beating in time with my racing pulse. He found a postage-stamp-sized space on the floor and stopped abruptly. We collided, chest to chest, and stared into each other’s eyes for a long moment, and then he began to move.

I tried to lose myself in the rhythm, but I couldn’t concentrate on anything with him so close. My senses were on fire. I wanted to feel him, smell him, touch him, and fuck…I wanted to taste him again. I swayed awkwardly and smiled. Rory returned the gesture and then leaned into to speak just as someone bumped him from behind. He careened against me, setting his hand on my hip to avoid falling over. I took my opportunity and pounced.

I wrapped my hand around his neck and sealed my mouth over his for the second time that day. And damn, he felt even better than before. Strong and safe but warm and inviting. Rory’s hands roamed under my mesh top, up my spine, and then down again to rest on my ass. He pulled me against him as he deepened the kiss and took over. He bit my bottom lip, then licked it before driving his tongue inside. We stood under the haze of strobe lights in the sea of sweaty bodies wrapped around each other, oblivious to anyone else.

Public displays were very out of character for me. On the few occasions I’d hooked up with someone other than Max, we were in dark, secluded spaces. No names exchanged, no emotional currency invested. But I was willing to take a chance with Rory because everything about being in his arms felt right. The slow glide of his tongue, the heat of his body, and his hands on my ass. I wanted so much more. And the boost from the tequila I’d had earlier made me feel brave enough to take it. I yanked his T-shirt up and splayed my left hand on his lower back, then dipped my fingers into his jeans. I didn’t get far with his belt in the way, but I did it over and over until he nuzzled my neck and licked the shell of my ear.

“What are you doing?”

“I want to feel your skin. Should I stop?”

“Fuck, no. Come with me,” Rory commanded, lacing our fingers and leading me off the dance floor.

We serpentined hand in hand through the crowd, passing the restrooms and a series of closed doors, down a darkened hallway. Rory tried the second to last door and shot a wicked grin over his shoulder when it opened. He flipped the switch on the wall, then quickly closed the door behind me and locked it. I squinted in the bright light and tried to get my bearings.

“Is this a broom closet?” I asked, noting the mops, buckets, and shelves of cleaning supplies lining two sides of the tiny space.

“Yeah. And as long as no one has any major spills out there, we’re fine. And we’re alone.” He nipped my bottom lip and backed me against the door.

I groaned into the rough kiss as I reached for his belt. “Good. I want to see you.”

Rory caught my hand on his buckle and shook his head. “Whoa. Not so fast. I have a couple of questions for you first.”

“What? Like a test?” I bit my swollen lip and gave him the ‘What the fuck’ look he deserved. “ ’Cause if you ask me anything about averages or medians, I might pass out.”

“I’ll keep it simple,” he said with a gravelly laugh that moved through me like wildfire. “I’m more curious about how straight you are.”

He stepped between my legs and traced my jawline with a featherlight touch. I gulped. “Not very.”

“Are you bi? A little curious? Or just drunk?”

“No. I’m not drunk at all. I’m…I’m gay.” I sucked in a deep breath, then added, “I thought you knew.”

“I had an idea,” he admitted.

“But no one knows. Only Max and Sky.”

“And now me.”

“Yes, but I’m not out and—”

“Shh.” Rory set his forefinger over my lips and then kissed me softly. “You’re safe with me.”