Wrangled

I pull my eyes from the stars and look at him.

He doesn’t look back. His lips are pressed together tightly, and his eyes are wet and strange and far away.

“I don’t want to …” He chokes, then gets through the rest. “I don’t want to miss out on something amazing here. Not when I’ve already missed out on a totally different childhood where the two of us might have been buddies. Where the two of us …”

“I wanna go back to your house tonight,” I tell him.

Chad turns his face to mine, his baby blues flashing.

“I’m not going back to my hotel room.” I shake my head. “No. I can’t even stand the thought. I’m not ready for this night to end, either. I want it to keep going and going … like that sky up there, like the stars, just going and going, endless, infinite.”

He kisses me right then.

I shut my eyes and take him in.

His full lips press powerfully against mine. He kisses me so hard, it almost hurts.

I lift a hand to his cheek and kiss back, gripping him.

Our kiss deepens as he holds me against his body.

My heart races even worse than it already was. Blood pumps through me like electricity, in pulsing, urgent waves.

Our lips smack as we let go, pull away, and look into each other’s eyes, out of breath.

“I don’t want you goin’ back, either,” he growls.

“Then take me to your house, Chad. Take me there and make me all yours. Do whatever you want to my body. Let me do all I want to yours.”

15

I Can’t Help Myself

We don’t make it to his house.

We barely make it halfway down the long, dark country road leading away from the Evans’s before I slap a hand onto his crotch.

He jumps, swerves, then rights himself. “Fuck!”

I cup him through his pants, kneading his meat. “Why do you always drive like that?” I ask. “With your legs spread, showing off your stuff like you’re asking for it?”

That’s about all he’s wearing, by the way: the hot pink jock, the pair of form-fitting slacks he came to the party wearing, and shoes. And he threw the pants on so carelessly before getting into the truck, he didn’t even button them or zip them all the way. He’s shirtless otherwise, and his hair’s a rugged mess.

“It’s how I like to drive,” he argues back, but there’s so little fight in his voice, it’s as if my hand placement has taken all the air out of his lungs.

“Well, if you’re going to continue sitting like that while you drive your big-boy truck, you’d better prepare for someone’s hand to grab a handful of you.”

I give him a firm squeeze.

Chad grunts and issues a deep-throated moan.

“Sounds like someone likes it,” I note.

He eyes me sharply. “Sounds like someone’s still tipsy.”

“Eyes on the road.”

He stares back at the road. “Lance, I swear, you’re doin’ things to me, and I …” He moans some more as I squeeze him again. “I … I’m fuckin’ lost for words. Who the hell are ya, and what’d you do with Lance, you horny sex monster?”

“Oh, I’m gonna do a lot more to you,” I promise him.

“Is that so?”

“I can’t help myself.”

I take hold of his zipper and tug it down the rest of the way.

Chad glances at his crotch, then over at me. His lips part as he starts breathing harder. His eyebrows pull together.

“Eyes on the fucking road, Landry,” I tell him.

He stares ahead. “Fuck, you get mouthy when you’re buzzed.”

I smirk.

Oh, he has no idea how mouthy I’m about to get.

With his hot-pink bulge freed, I reach into his pants and start to massage him again. Even through the thin, soft material of his jockstrap—still a touch damp from the pool—I feel his hardened dick pulsing with urgency against my palm.

“Fuckin’ frisky,” Chad says with half a laugh that dies quickly.

He’s either excited by what’s happening, or terrified of me. I like to presume the truth is somewhere in the middle.

“You put on the jockstrap,” I remind him. “You paraded in front of me. You dragged me into a pool and got me sopping wet, then gave me all that deep talk about stars and doors and infinity. You’d better bet you got me horny.”

“Stars get you horny, huh?”

My massages are turning into strokes as he gets harder and harder in that tight, hot pink, confining jockstrap.

“Don’t veer off the road and kill us.”

Chad snorts. “You think a little cock rubbin’ is gonna make me veer off this road? What do you think it is? A lamp? Is some genie about to pop outta this jock?”

“I sure hope something is about to pop out of it.”

“What do you think you’re about to do, Lance? You about to give me some road head or somethin’?”