Ocean (Damage Control 5)

“Me and Jason, what?” He lifts his hands, rubs them over his face. “What are you talking about?”

“Your boyfriend—”

“He’s not my boyfriend! Yeah, he is gay, but you don’t think… You think me and him are together?”

Oh. Oops?

Okay, maybe I jumped to conclusions there.

“Sorry,” I mutter. “I just thought…”

In two strides, he’s right in front of me, and those callused hands grip the sides of my face. “How about I show you what I like?”

His mouth, hot and hard, covers mine. When I gasp, his tongue slips between my teeth and tangles with mine. Pleasure hits me, flowing in my blood like liquid gold, pooling between my legs.

God can this boy kiss.

Before I can catch my breath, his hands slide down my neck to my shoulders, and he pulls back. The blues in his eyes glitter. There’s a question in them.

I put my hand on his chest, stand on tiptoes and kiss him back.

A soft growl rises in his throat. His hands fall off my shoulders, land on my hips. As his mouth crushes mine, lips moving, demanding, teeth clacking, he walks me backward until my ass hits the small table. In one movement, he lifts me on it, sending groceries crashing to the floor.

I barely notice.

He kicks the door shut. There are sketches stuck on it, done in charcoal and pencil, parts of bodies, and faces, and textures, and shapes, like pieces of a puzzle. They blur in my eyes.

And he kisses me long and slow, taking his time to stroke every sensitive inch of my mouth, making me moan out loud. Then he nudges my legs apart and presses between them, his thick, hard length against my soft center a shock that quickly turns into heat.

I claw at his shoulders, and he bites on my lower lip, making my whole body jerk. He licks it in apology and trails his mouth over my cheek, then lower, over my neck, and oh God, I’m losing my mind.

“Need more proof?” he rumbles, his breath scorching the skin under my ear.

“Proof?” My voice is strangled. My insides are trembling and clenching with need.

“That I like girls.”

“Yeah. I mean, fine. Proof is good.”

I’m rambling. Full sentences are beyond me.

“You think I’m pretty?” He’s nosing the shell of my ear. His teeth close on my earlobe and tug, sending shivers of pleasure down my spine. “Guys can’t be pretty.”

“Sure they can.”

Christ, can I come from a guy nibbling on my ear? A question I never thought I’d pose myself.

“That’s not an answer to my question. Yes or no?”

“Yes. No!”

“Yes or no?”

“You’re—”

A coughing fit from the living room breaks the moment.

“Oh shit,” Ocean breathes and pushes off me, jerking the door open and rushing out. “Jason.”