Just a Bit Twisted (Straight Guys 1)

Shawn tore his gaze away, slipped out of his shorts and stepped to Rutledge.

He hesitated.

His eyes hooded, Rutledge took his arm and jerked him into his lap.

The rest was a blur of heated kisses and touches, and so much skin. Shawn had never felt so out of control with want, unable to think, unable to do anything but feel and want.

When he finally sank onto Rutledge’s slick cock, the profound relief was overwhelming. He groaned. The fullness, the intimacy was maddening and scary in its intensity. Rutledge grunted, pulling Shawn tighter to him, their chests flush against each other.

Looking into the dark eyes, Shawn moved. It was such a turn-on to see Rutledge’s eyes slide half-shut, the way his head sort of arched back.

Shawn opened his legs a little bit more, adjusting his posture as he took it deep and sweet, the hot length of his teacher burning him from the inside out. He looked down in between their bodies, fascinated by the movement of his own hips as they kept gyrating in place. He saw Rutledge’s hands—big, and warm, and strong on his hips—direct the movement as he wanted it, guiding Shawn into riding him as Shawn’s own cock stood untouched between them; it was red and thick, wetness glistening and sliding down its shaft.

Rutledge’s thumbs stroked mindlessly at his hipbones, his tongue tracing a wet stripe on his neck as his cock stretched Shawn so damn good. Swallowing back his moans, Shawn pushed down to increase the pressure and to take him fully. The feeling of Rutledge’s hard stomach sliding along the aching flesh of his cock made Shawn whimper, and he gripped Rutledge’s shoulders a little bit tighter as he abandoned the rotations of his pelvis and started sliding up and down Rutledge’s cock, hard and fast, wanting more, deeper, more.

Neither could breathe well and both needed everything harder and faster, and soon Rutledge was slamming his hips up to meet Shawn’s on every thrust, and Shawn was gasping every time Rutledge hit his prostate, stars sparking behind his eyes. Rutledge was grunting, his muscles working as he lifted Shawn and lowered him down onto his cock, and fuck, his strength was such a turn-on, and Shawn wanted him, wanted him, wanted him.

Rutledge came first, and Shawn followed shortly after, jerking his way through his orgasm and sinking his teeth into Rutledge’s shoulder to muffle his moans.

Shawn was only vaguely aware of Rutledge lifting him and laying him on his back: his eyelids grew heavy, his body languid with pleasure.

Just before he fell asleep, he realized they hadn’t said a word to each other since Rutledge had entered the apartment.

Chapter 17

Shawn woke up slowly, and the first thing he registered was a very naked and very warm body against his back. Rutledge.

They were spooning. Rutledge was spooning him.

Telling himself not to be silly—the bed was just very narrow, and there simply wasn’t much space—Shawn opened his eyes, blinking groggily.

And found himself looking at two little girls staring at them curiously.

“Shawn’s awake,” Bee whispered, sucking on her thumb. “Can I be loud now?”

Emily shook her head. “Mr. Rutledge’s still sleeping.”

A tiny furrow appeared between Bee’s brows. “But what is Mr. Rutledge doing in Shawn’s bed?”

“He’s sleeping, silly!” Emily said, forgetting to whisper.

Shawn felt the man behind him stir slightly and tighten his loose grip around Shawn’s waist. Rutledge mumbled something unintelligible, his lips brushing against Shawn’s ear.

Shawn grimaced and tugged the sheets higher, making sure the girls couldn’t see anything they weren’t supposed to see.

Bee pointed at Rutledge. “You told me to be quiet, but see, you woke him up!” She beamed. “Good morning, Mr. Rutledge!”

“Good morning,” Rutledge said hoarsely right into Shawn’s ear.

Goosebumps covered Shawn’s skin. He squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lip. Get a grip.

“Morning,” he said at last, turning his head.

It was weird to see Rutledge’s hair so messy, but that, coupled with the dark stubble and all the naked skin, did strange things to Shawn’s insides. Rutledge’s dark eyes roamed over his face.

Shawn wasn’t sure how to act. He wasn’t sure where they stood.

“Why Mr. Rutledge slept in your bed?” Bee asked. “He doesn’t have a bed?”

Rutledge’s lips twisted. “Something like that, midget,” he said, still looking at Shawn.

“Don’t call her midget.”

“I don’t mind,” Bee said. “I’m short!”

“She doesn’t mind,” Rutledge said.

Snorting, Shawn reached for his shorts and pulled them on, wincing a bit in discomfort.

“Sore?” Rutledge murmured, sitting up as well.

Shawn hopped off the bed and threw him a narrow-eyed look.

Rutledge’s face was mostly inscrutable, but there was a hint of something in his eyes…

“Drop the smug look,” Shawn said and glanced at the clock on the wall. “Don’t you have a class to teach soon?”

“Yes,” Rutledge said, getting out of the bed. He looked so out of place in Shawn’s tiny, shabby room it wasn’t even funny.