As soon as the moment fades, disgust at myself begins to spread like oil on a lake. I hurry to pull up my pants, hating the way my neck heats in shame.
“Francesca would have beat our asses over that one,” he says, his voice husky.
It erases some of the awkwardness and I laugh. “I’ll be in the shower. You can use the one down the hall.”
It’s not until I’m under the spray of the hot water that I let it sink in. We masturbated together. Certainly not the first time either.
I should feel more regret.
Yet, I don’t.
What I do feel is foreign. A burning deep inside me. Like my body is craving something desperately.
No.
I shake my head, but my dick is already hardening again. Closing my eyes, I use the memory of Ivy’s naked body as I stroke myself. But she fades so easily.
Poof.
And I quietly stroke myself to a more recent memory. Pecs. Obliques. Abs. Dick. Everything is so damn hard.
Damn you, Penn.
Damn you for planting this seed.
I groan in ecstasy and it’s then I realize I’ve whispered his name under my breath.
I’m in fucking trouble.
Penn
I stare at my stomach in the foggy mirror. The black stains on my skin won’t come off, and if I’m being real, I don’t want them to. Cope put them there. If I didn’t think my dad would literally kill me, I’d get that shit tattooed on me forever.
My cock jolts against the towel and I groan.
What we just did was the most exhilarating thing I’ve ever done. All he’s managed to do is shovel hate my way for the past couple of years. But then something happened. That stupid fight with Max brought Cope back into my world. He’s even shaken off Ivy too. So it’s almost like old times.
But my secret is out now.
And he’s still here.
I drop the towel and throw on my boxers, ignoring my semi-erect cock. My heart is pounding rapidly in my chest because I don’t know what to expect with Cope anymore. He knows I want him, and he hasn’t tried to kick my ass over it.
My mind wanders to Dante. I’d been truthful to Cope about him. That I’d maybe like to see him again. I can’t have what I really want, so making out with Dante had been a nice release. Much more gratifying than kissing Leah.
I’m gay.
Not bi. Just gay.
Problem is, I’m still in love. And I can be gay all day, but it still doesn’t erase the fact Cope owns my heart. Hell, he probably always will. If I could figure out a way to get him to let go of it, I would. I’d love to be free of him and try something with Dante or another guy. But even as I’d kissed Dante, I’d felt Cope’s eyes on me. They’d burned into me and I loved the way his stare felt.
Possessive.
Letting go of those hopeful thoughts, I exit the guest bathroom and find him already lying in bed, but he’s changed the channel to Black Hawk Down. We’ve seen the movie a thousand times together. I never watched it once without him, even during those two years alone.
“Where am I staying?” I ask, careful to not be presumptuous.
“Don’t be an idiot,” he grunts. “Same as always.”
I close the door behind me and flick off the lights. It’s hard to remain calm knowing he wants me to stay. His stare is on the television, but mine greedily drinks him up. He’s sprawled out on the bed in a pair of basketball shorts, his chest still glistening from his recent shower. My mouth waters for a taste—a taste I’ll never have. Swallowing down those illicit thoughts, I climb into bed beside him.
“I don’t think you should see Dante,” is the first thing he says once I’m settled.
I turn my head to find him glaring at me. “Why not?”
“Because he’s a dick.”
“Got someone better in mind?” I challenge.
His jaw clenches and he looks back at the television. “I don’t know. Anyone. Fucking Tinder for all I care.”
“You’d rather me hook up with some random than kiss Dante because you think he’s a dick?” I almost laugh because he’s the one being a dick right now, not Dante.
He rolls over to face me, resting his head on his bicep. It bulges beneath his cheek and I bite back a groan.
“Dante wants to do more than just kiss,” he tells me, his brows crashing together.
I know he’s right. Dante all but begged me to come over tonight. I’d considered it. Just to see what it felt like to sleep with a guy. To sleep with anyone for that matter.
“Some of us would like to experience sex,” I grumble. “Even if it’s with some handsy asshole.” I pin him with a hard glare. “Ivy was your first?”