Page 32 of Getting It Twisted
“Why? You didn’t say anything about flirting. Flirting’s harmless.”
“Well, it annoys me, so quit it.”
“Maybe I want to annoy you.”
“Not if you don’t want my fist in your face.”
“Nah.” He smirks, something feral in his gaze. “I’d rather have your fist somewhere else.”
I huff out a laugh. “Jesus.” I gave him that one too easily.
He turns around, off to find another way to annoy me, no doubt. My suspicion is confirmed when he grabs something at my bedside table and holds it up. “Ooh, what’s this?”
Shit. The Polaroids I found at my mom’s place. I should’ve put them away when I had the chance.
“Took a trip down memory lane?” He shows me a photo where we must have been around sixteen. His hair is dyed a gaudy orange, and he’s got his arms around me, face screwed up in an exaggerated grimace for the camera.
The next one is of me smoking a blunt, a dazed expression on my face and my long dirty-blond hair strewn across my shoulders. Another is a candid of him in the middle of a party. His face is turned in profile, and he’s talking to someone out of frame, eyes lit up with excitement. He’s so damn photogenic. Stands out in a crowd. I must have asked him a dozen times to let me draw him, but after several attempts in which he could never sit still, I gave up.
“Jeez, was my acne really that bad?” One by one, he throws the pictures on the floor once he’s looked at them. He stops at my drawing of us on the hill overlooking the city. “Mumphrey Hill, huh?” He hums, a smile on his lips.
“Give them here.” I grab for him, but he laughs and dodges out of my reach. I get hold of one of his wrists, then the other. We struggle for the upper hand over the photos, and somewhere in the commotion, we lose balance and end up on the bed—me on top, our bodies pressed flush against each other.
I pin his wrists above his head. He stops laughing and looks up at me through his bangs. I start to heave myself off him, but he gives a frustrated whine ofnoand squirms underneath me. Arching his back, he aligns our crotches so I can feel his hard-on through his skintight pants.
That’s it. I press him back on the bed, pinning him down with my body.
“You want this so badly? Fine. You’re getting it.”
I kiss him, hard and ruthlessly on the mouth. He freezes for half a second, then he groans and kisses me back. He ruts against me, narrow hips pushing hard against mine. With one hand, I keep a grip on his wrists as I unbuckle his studded belt with the other. I make quick work of his zipper, spit in my palm, slide it down his taut stomach, and wrap my hand around his cock. It’s rock-hard and silky-smooth, leaking precum from the tip.
“I want to touch you,” he gasps. “Want to suck you off.”
“Too bad.”
I’mthe one in control. I’ll get him off because I want to get him off, not because he’s tempted me to.
I pinch the head of his cock, and he gives a muffled groan as I kiss him again. I pump my wrist, only bothering to pull his pants down enough to get his length in my hand. While he’s not small, he’s smaller than me.
“But . . .” He gasps against my mouth, writhing in my grip.
“Hold still.”
To my surprise, he stops struggling immediately, and I start jerking him off in earnest. I pump his cock with no particular finesse, only a mechanic quick fix, just to get him off my back and stop him from constantly alluding to sex. I slot my mouth over his and lick into his hot, wet mouth.
He whimpers and sucks on my tongue, cock twitching in my hand. “Daniel, I . . .” He licks his lips and swallows against his undoubtedly dry throat.
“You’re gonna come? Already?”
“Hngh . . . Tighter,” he groans.
I’m already squeezing him hard enough to hurt, but I do as he says and tighten my grip—on both his wrists and his cock. I jerk him hard, quick, and demanding. He goes rigid, back arching, and a few seconds later, he shoots his release all over my fingers and his slutty shirt.
“Oh fuck . . . oh fuck . . .” He races to catch his breath, the whites of his eyes wild and wanting. “Fuck me. Please.”
He looks the same as he did at the grad party: hazy, unfocused. He begged me then too. And I did it; I fucked him face-to-face, and when I came, I whispered “I love you” into his mouth.
If I fuck him, I give him a power over me he hasn’t deserved.