“Don’t be sorry. It’s your truck.”
“Not a fan of country?”
“Hate it,” I confess. “Spent too many years in Nashville.” That’s for damn sure.
He gives me an appraising glance before pulling into the pizza joint parking place. “Be right back.”
The truck smells like pizza on the way home.
And that’s when I realize that I never transferred the groceries from my car to Kieran’s truck. I let out a groan of pure unhappiness at the thought of my pork loin being towed to a garage right now.
“What’s the matter?”
Embarrassed, I explain the problem to Kieran. It’s not like he won’t notice when I have no ingredients to unload into our fridge. Today is like a bad dream I can’t wake up from. “I can’t believe I did that. I’m sorry about dinner.”
“It’s only thirty degrees out right now. Your groceries will be fine sitting in the car all night. We can get them tomorrow.”
The idea of Kieran having to drive out to get them makes me want to howl. I’m so tired of being a hot mess. But I don’t know how to stop being one. “I’m so sorry.”
“For what? Cars break.” He makes the turn onto the town green. We’re almost home.
“For being your crazy, unreliable roommate. Again.”
“You had a shit day Roddy, they happen. They happen a lot, honestly. We’re going to eat pizza and drink a beer. Wait. Do you not like beer?” By the sound of his voice I can tell the question alarms him a little.
“I like it fine. But broke guys don’t drink beer.” I am a broke guy again. Thinking about my car repair bill makes me want to howl, too.
“Look,” he asks as the house comes into view. “Are roommates supposed to tally everything to the penny? Am I doing it all wrong? I’m new with this.”
“You haven’t done anything wrong. Not one thing.” I swallow hard. “I’m the dysfunctional one in this vehicle. The roommate rules clearly state that you don’t jump your hot, drunk roommate, and then act like a drama queen afterwards. You probably think I’m insane.”
“Nah.” He makes a dismissive sound. “You told me your issues. I get it.” He pulls into the driveway and cuts the engine and the lights.
“Why do you have to be so fucking decent?” I ask into the sudden silence. “It makes the rest of us look bad.”
Kieran sits still in the darkness, as if this was a serious question. “I’m just like you, though. Just trying to figure my shit out. You’ve already helped me with that, by the way.”
“Because I made your dick stand up and cheer?”
He snorts loudly. “The things you say. You’re fearless.”
“Yeah, but not wise.” I unclip my seatbelt and reach for the door handle.
“Maybe just ease up on yourself for one night?” Kieran says, pocketing his keys. “We’re going to watch a little TV and have some pizza and a beer. Or not the beer. Whatever. I offer it to you with no expectations. It doesn’t have to be a big deal. You just seem like a guy who could use a piece of pizza and a hug.”
“Ha. You of all people are not a hugger.”
He shrugs those big shoulders. “That’s just it, though. You make me feel like I could be someone who does things instead of just thinking about them. You probably don’t understand, but I get a lot out of having you around.”
Oh, man. Now he’s done it. I’m full of warm fuzzies. “I’ll take that hug now,” I say before I can think better of it.
He turns slowly in my direction. “You sure about that?” It sounds like a challenge.
“Yup.” I hitch myself closer to him on the seat, and open my arms wide. Kieran’s response is to grasp the halves of my jacket and haul me closer.
And I like it so much that I skip the hug entirely, and dive straight into a steamy kiss. I lay it right on him.
Kieran lets out a grunt of surprise, but slides right into the kiss like a champ. Thick arms wrap around me and soft, hungry lips slide over mine. He kisses me like he’s been thinking about it for weeks. And I kiss him back like I’m starved for it.
It’s all very magical until my elbow beeps the truck’s horn, and we startle apart.
“Inside,” Kieran growls. “You know you want to.”
I open my mouth to argue, but then I realize resistance is futile. “Yessir,” I say instead.
Pizza forgotten, we slam the truck’s doors and hustle into the house. Once the door clicks shut, Kieran lets me push him up against it. And then we’re making out like teenagers again—fast and messy. Every lingering glance we’ve shared, every frustrated night sleeping in separate rooms. Is there any real surprise that we’d end up here—trying to fuse our mouths together in the darkened hallway?
No surprise at all, really.
Kieran’s woodsy scent overpowers me, and his kisses are scorching. I’m done trying to fight all the things I feel for this man. I may end up ruining our friendship. I may even get my heart broken.
But some people are worth the risk, aren’t they? I have a feeling in my bones that Kieran Shipley is one of them.
Kieran
One kiss. That’s all it took to untie my control.
I’ve tried to be so fucking patient. But the moment he looked at me with those liquid eyes in the truck, I just snapped.
And so did he. There are two strong hands on my shoulders, telling me what he needs. Every kiss draws us closer. I didn’t know kisses could run so deep and dark. I taste more of Roderick than of myself.
I am amazed by so many things. The scent of his skin. The force of his tongue against mine. And my own boldness as I latch my hand to the back of his neck and whisper against his lips, “I want you.” It’s the truest thing I’ve ever said in my life. I am made of wanting.
In answer, Roderick’s hand slides down my chest. And when it keeps going—his fingertips parting my jacket, grazing my abs, searing me through the thick cotton of my shirt—I break out in a sweat. Then he reaches for my belt buckle.
And tugs.
I make a noise of shocked elation when he unbuckles my belt and pops the button on my jeans. My old fantasies keep unspooling as he lowers my jeans by a couple crucial inches and drops to his knees.
I hear myself gasp as Roderick curls a hand around my hard cock. I stare in wonder as he draws it out of my briefs. And I can’t stop a low groan from escaping as he lifts his chin, looks me right in the eye, and takes the head into his mouth.
Liquid heat. Pressure and bliss. This is how my obsession with him began, isn’t it? A hasty blowjob in the dark. His eyes glittering with lust.
I wasn’t ready for him back then, though. I could only watch, never speaking my desires aloud. But I’m not that frightened boy anymore. My head thunks against the door as he weighs me against his tongue. His expressive eyes lift to show me how invested he is in pleasing me.
Waiting eight years almost seems worth it right now. For me, this is so much more than reliving a teenage fantasy. I run a hand through Rodrick’s hair the way his partner feared to do all those years ago. It’s incredibly soft against my palm. Maybe I’m a late bloomer, but I’m all in now.