Out on the Serve (Out in College 7)

But when I bumped into Elliot…over coffee, in the bathroom, or in the hallway when we were coming out of our rooms, things got hot…fast. We’d start with a pleasant “How’s it going?” and end with our tongues down each other’s throats. Yesterday morning, for example, we stood in the kitchen making small talk about our schedule. Elliot said he had a lot to do, and Gus was annoying the hell out of him. I told him that I felt the same about being at the theater. It wasn’t the experience I’d hoped for. We’d stared at each other and smiled awkwardly before turning to rinse our cups. The second our shoulders collided, something snapped in both of us.

I couldn’t say who made the first move. Everything happened so fast. His hand on my hip, then under the elastic of my PJs and boxer briefs, squeezing my bare ass. My fingers in his hair and my mouth on his. The make-out session was an epic affair of licking, grinding, sucking…and more grinding until Elliot finally backed me against the pantry door, yanked our clothes out of the way, and wrapped his big hand around both of our cocks, jacking us into oblivion. The unexpected heat and friction pulled me under, leaving me shaky and gasping for air when our orgasms hit a few minutes later.

Elliot rested his forehead on my shoulder while I pressed kisses along his neck in the aftermath. I wasn’t sure how long we stayed like that, but it was long enough for things to feel slightly awkward when we straightened and looked each other in the eye. What do you say to the guy who sleeps down the hall from you after you come all over his stomach? They didn’t make greeting cards for those things.

And here we were again. I couldn’t even look at him without feeling weak in the knees. My body hummed the second he walked into a room. My heart thumped, my palms felt sweaty, and my mouth went dry. How could I possibly sit across the table from a mystery stranger when everything I wanted was right here? Don’t get me wrong. I wasn’t making flowery forever plans in my head. I just wanted his body all over mine in any and every way possible.

I licked my lips when he bent to spit his toothpaste in the sink and told myself to pull it together. Toothpaste-spitting was the opposite of sexy. Wasn’t it? But when he straightened and met my gaze in the mirror, I changed my mind. And just like that, it was the kitchen sink scene all over again. Blood rushed through my veins, sending a tingle of awareness along my spine and yeah, my dick was an iron rod behind my zipper. I coughed and tried to think of a mundane topic change-slash-exit strategy to avoid throwing myself at him.

“That’s nice. Where are you meeting her?” I asked in a gravelly tone.

“Who?”

“Your mom.”

Elliot wiped his mouth on the towel I’d just used and smiled. “She’s coming here. She’s always late. I didn’t want to sit by myself in a dive bar in Commerce, so I told her to come by after work.”

“Cool. Um…well, have fun.” I smiled and stepped toward the door.

“You too.” He winked, then gestured at my crotch. “Your fly’s open.”

Of course, I looked. I crossed my arms and glared at him when he snickered like a teenager. “Very funny. I actually wish it was open. My dick is…”

He went still. And fuck, he looked like a tiger who’d unexpectedly found his prey. “Finish that sentence,” he commanded.

“Hard.”

Elliot licked his lips and moved into my space. “I can help you with that. You probably need a little stress relief before your, um…date.”

“El, I can’t. I don’t have time and—”

“Shh. Trust me. You don’t have to do a thing. Let me help you,” he purred, rubbing his stubbled jaw over my clean-shaven one. “I’ve got this.”

“What are you—” My weak protest died on my lips when he sank to his knees.

I watched as he expertly undid my jeans and freed my throbbing dick. He stroked me a couple of times and glanced up at me with a wicked grin. Then he swallowed me whole.

Fuck. I knew what was coming, but I wasn’t prepared for how amazing it felt to have his lips wrapped around my cock. I put one hand on the counter to brace myself as he bobbed his head, sucking, then licking my length. Over and over. The manic pace was meant to drive me to the edge with maximum force, quick. This was about immediate release, and to be honest, it felt like he was staking a claim, wordlessly asking for something neither of us had been brave enough to say aloud over the past few days. I wanted to assure him I felt the same, but I couldn’t talk. Maybe my brain really was in my dick, because he was literally sucking my ability to think coherently, reducing me to a mass of raw nerve endings and so much fucking need. I gripped a fistful of Elliot’s thick hair and fucked his mouth. He set his hands on my hips, humming in approval. That small vibration was all it took. I came like a rocket. And he swallowed every drop.