Liam Davis & The Raven (18 page)

“What’s this for?” he
asked, grabbing it with slimy fingers as Hannah awkwardly jerked putting her shirt back on.

“That’s what attraction looks like.” I gestured to the paper. “For you to give your number to Hannah.”

He raised his meaty brow. “And you are?”

“Liam Davis. Reporter for
Scribe
.”

“Just give it here,” Hannah said,
snatching the pen and scribbling something on the paper. She curled a finger around one of his belt loops and, when he came forward, slipped the paper into his pocket. “In case you ever fancy eating Jell-O with me again.”

“I didn’t really eat any
Jell-O, you know,” he said, grinning as he slipped a finger inside his pocket.

Hannah laughed. “
Yeah, you ate it all right.”

W
ith style and grace, and a playful smile, she took my arm and steered us out of there.

As we crossed
the threshold into the cool night air, a flyer stuck on my shoe. I shook it free and the yellow paper fluttered down a few steps toward the path. Written in large letters across the top was
Have You Seen The Raven?

I picked it up, Hannah leaning against my shoulder to read it to
o.

“Someone really do
esn’t like The Raven,” she said as I scanned the flyer again and looked back at the lit Victorian house behind us. Hannah was right.

I folded the flyer and stuffed it in my other pocket. W
e ambled to the corner of Fifth and Walnut.

“Thanks for the evening,” she said.

“You put yourself out there,” I said, hailing her a taxi. “Seemed like it worked for you.”

“Yeah.”
She curled an arm around my neck and, with vodka Jell-O breath, she pecked the side of my cheek. “Jack and Jill are such dicks,” she said, “Of course I’m your real friend, Liam.”

Chapter 14

The light in Quinn’s room
leaked from the slit at the bottom of the door. I slipped out of my coat and suit jacket, and toed off my shoes.

I rubbed at a splotch of dried, crusty Jell-O on my thigh.
It wasn’t the best idea to turn up to the Jell-O party in my suit. But never mind. I’d stick them in the wash.

Movement came from Quinn’s room, and I sidled closer to the wall that he shared with the living room.
I only heard silence, so maybe Cheddar had left already? That, or they had very quiet intercourse.

I swallowed the sudden dryness
in my throat, and almost immediately followed it up by banging on Quinn’s door.

“Liam?” Quinn
asked, pulling the door open.

One glance told me he was alone in the room, and
I shifted my gaze back to him. His worried frown quickly disappeared, and he casually leaned against the doorjamb in nothing more than a pair of sweatpants.

G
oose bumps didn’t scatter over his skin like the last time I’d seen him shirtless, but his nipples were stiff and redder than I remembered, though it could’ve been the light.

A finger curled around my chin and lifted it. “My face is up here,” Quinn said with an amused smile.

“Are you serious about Cheddar?”

“Why?”

“I might be gay,” I said.

“You just figured that out, smart guy?”

“I need more proof to ascertain it’s true.” I walked forward, pressing my palm against his warm chest. His hairs prickled my skin and sent electric beads of excitement up to my elbow. “Cheddar?”

A delicate blush
streaked Quinn’s cheeks and his boxed ears lifted a fraction. His large hand cuffed mine, pressing firmly, as if to keep me right where I was.

“Cheddar’s a friend of mine,” he said
quietly, his green gaze burrowing into mine and sending all the blood I could spare right to my groin. “A friend who played decoy tonight.”

“Decoy?” I asked, my body leaning
toward him.

He bent forward, holding his nose just far enough from mine that it felt as if
our noses were touching, even though they weren’t. “I really hated that documentary.”

“So you
do have a pathetic crush on me.”

His mouth closed on mine
, and with a quick spin of my body, Quinn pinned me to the doorframe, one hand cupping the back of my head, cushioning it from the wood.

Our breathing quickene
d. Warm, delicate puffs escaped between the meshing of soft lips and nipping teeth, and each time his tongue touched mine, my blood seemed to sing and I shivered. My cock ached like it never had without my hand on it.

A rasp of Quinn’s stubble moved from my cheek down the side of my
neck as he tasted the skin below my ear. His tongue flicked, and the air quickly cooled the spot. I threaded my fingers in his hair, slightly stiffened at the tips with product. I squeezed, pushing him and his lips toward that spot again.

This
time he moaned as he tasted me and sucked hard until it stung. I let out something between a groan and a pant.

“Touch me,” I said, cocking my hips
and thrusting my crotch against his. The bulge of his hard cock had mine pulsing.

My hands trailed over his shoulders to his chest and I squeezed his nipples. “I need your hands down my pants now.”

“Fuck that’s so hot.” Quinn stole my lips once more and his fingertips worked the buttons of my fly, his knuckles brushing over my length in a way that had me clutching at his back for him to hurry.

He chuckled and spoke in my ear as his slightly cool fingertips darted into the waistband of my
boxer-briefs and drew an agonizing line from one side of my hips to the other, crossing over the head of my cock to finish.

“I want you to remember this.”

I thrust toward him again. “I have a good memory. I doubt I’ll be forgetting any time soon. Grab me. Jerk me.”

His groan rumbled at my ear, and his stubble came hard and rough against my neck as he drew his chin from my ear to my shoulder. He had to know it felt good. Had to know how much it made me want to spill in my pants.

His hand fished into my briefs and took hold of me firmly, just like I wanted him to. He pumped slowly, the throbs tightening my whole body. I rested my forehead against his smooth, slightly freckled shoulder. “Yes, like that.”

The
light from his room made a silhouette of Quinn’s stiff cock tenting his sweatpants. “I want to touch you too,” I said, my breath hitching as Quinn circled my pre-cum around the head of my cock with his thumb.

A hummed “yeah” brushed through my hair.

“Tell me what to do. I haven’t touched a man before.”

He didn’t lift his hand off me, but slowed his movements as he shifted, taking my hand and pressing it against the taut material and his even tauter cock.
“Touch me like you do to yourself, in the shower.”

He squeezed me and along with the pleasure, I took the encouragement
, peeling back his sweatpants and underwear until Quinn’s cock sprang free. I closed my hand around it. Thicker than mine, though not quite as long. Warm, with such silky skin at his head. I jerked him to the rhythm he was working me, getting used to the new, hard weight.

I circled his p
re-cum and flicked my fingertip lightly over the slit at the top, where it was most sensitive on me. He twitched and groaned, lips seeking mine and jamming them into an ardent kiss.

Our hands worked faster, thumbs banging against each other in our greed.

What would Quinn’s velvet length feel like rubbing hard against mine? “I want our cocks together,” I said. “Fuck me.”

Quinn let go of me and pried my hand from him too. He widened his legs and leaned forward, taking
both our lengths in his large hand.

I whimpered at the electrical currents that zapped through me at that touch,
at the deep stare Quinn gave me. He pumped a few more times, my climax building rapidly. And then his head fell back, lips parted in a moan—

I stiffened, my release coming to a sudden
, urgent end. Quinn jerked us twice more and braced with me as spurts of our hot come shot over his chest and abdomen, mingling and dribbling a crooked path over his skin.

Quinn slowly released our cocks, tucking mine away and then his own as he caught his breath.

I pushed away from the doorframe, my back definitely feeling the effects of the hard wood. Tentatively, I fingered our come on Quinn’s chest. “That clears some things up. I must be gay.”

L
aughing gently, he fell back a few steps into his room. He picked up a T-shirt off the floor and wiped himself with it. He looked up at me with a slightly raised brow and a quirked lip. It almost came off as a leer. “If you need to prove it again, you know where my bedroom is.”

“Thank you for the offer.” I
buttoned my pants. “Will it be awkward now?”

He gripped his shirt. “No. We won’t let it be.”

“Good. I like you as my friend.”

Quinn’s mouth
opened, as if he wanted to say something more, and then he shut it again. “Sure. Me too.”

I turned and left.
“Good night, then,” I said, and made a path to the bathroom. I looked just the same as I always did when I looked in the mirror. To myself, I said, “You learn something new every day.”

Then, teeth brushed and ready for bed, I went to my room
and drafted an outline of
Letting Loose after Lectures
on my laptop before falling into a heady sleep.

I clicked my pen, narrowing my gaze on the notes scribbled before me. My
office-friend stapler kept staring at me and I slid him out of view. Though it was late in the evening,
Scribe
was still thrumming with life. From the chief’s open office door, I heard murmuring as he conversed with Jack. Something about one of his projects needing more expansion.

W
ords swam in my open notebook. A vortex of doubt regarding my final feature article swirled in my mind. It had to be pitched just perfectly to get the chief’s approval. I knew the chief was fascinated by modern technology, and the way he divided his trash into garbage, compost, and recycling suggested he might be swayed to accept an environmental angle.

I dropped my pen and sank my tired body into the chair.

Across my desk, Hannah twirled a thick strand of hair around her finger. Giant Guy—who turned out to be called Roger Delaware—stood chatting with her. His dimpled smile and soft gaze as he looked at Hannah had my approval.

Hannah yanked on her hair and hurriedly let go, as if she’d just realized what she’d been doing.
She straightened and cleared her throat. “I just don’t know,” she said, a quirk in her lips betraying her attempt at a tease. “Going out for a fancy dinner with a handsome hulk or curling up on my worn couch with my history assignment? Tough call.”

Roger grinned. “If you put it like that, what was I thinking? Dinner with a beautiful smartass over doing my math assignments?”

A sweet, nervous laugh floated around them and Hannah lightly got to her feet, fisted Roger’s shirt, and pulled him down. She kissed him quickly on the mouth and nodded toward the exit. “Let’s get out of here.”

Roger
nodded mutely, but when Hannah twisted to leave, he snatched her hand and hauled her back. Cupping his hands on her face, he kissed her again, this time longer. When he pulled back, he was smiling and she looked like her bones had melted.

I lightly tossed my pen toward them, breaking their long, searching gaze. “While you may be tempted, there are still far too many people in here for you to attempt ravishing each other on the desk.”

With a bright blush, Hannah laughed and—tugging Roger with her—left the building.

I stared from my notebook
to my pen on the floor. I spun my chair slowly and peeled myself up to retrieve it. An article on the invasion of internet mass media? A look into student involvement in environmental protection?

Or
—yes! What if it was something combined? How the internet and mass media support student involvement in environmental protection?

With a
whoop!
I swept up my pen. It almost felt hot in my hand with all the thoughts streaming toward it, begging to be written.

A
step before my desk, the chief caught my eye, beckoning me over.

“Yes,
chief?” I asked, stopping in front of him. He stood solidly in the doorway, arms folded.

“You were in here until late last night, are you planning to be again?”

I nodded my head. “I also have the feature article you requested me to write.”

“Ah, that.
” His frown lightly dented his brow. “Let me stress again, writing it is not assurance you will get the features editor position.”