Yours All Along (7 page)

“Oh, nice,” Devon said, throwing him a look. “I’m a step above Pigpen the Farter. I’m honored.”

“Don’t get your feelings hurt. You know I like you best, pumpkin,” he said, trying to inject the normal ease they had between them, trying to show Devon all was A-OK.

Oakley looked between the two of them, her smile sinking at the edges and her brow wrinkling. “Wait, are you two dating?”

Hunter stiffened.

Devon’s gaze met Hunter’s briefly, but then he just rolled his eyes. “Right. Like I would’ve kept it from you that I was dating a hot baseball player. Come on, Oak. Give me some credit.”

Her focus flicked to Hunter, confusion still there.

Hunter shrugged, the move feeling tight. “I’m not his type.”

“Yeah,” Devon agreed, gaze locked with his. “Straight.”

“Oh.” Oakley laughed, though it sounded a little forced. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

Hunter lifted a hand. “It’s fine.”

Oakley changed the subject quickly, obviously thinking she’d offended him, and they all hung out for another hour. But Hunter was too caught up in his own thoughts to pay much attention. By the time they said good-bye to head over to the hotel room the record company had booked for Devon, Hunter felt like his brain had been put through a meat grinder.

Devon climbed into the limo first, and Hunter tried to ignore the little flare of awareness at the sight of Devon bending over, his T-shirt riding up and exposing the low rise of his jeans. What the fuck? Now he was checking out his best friend’s ass? He scrubbed a hand over his face.

Hunter climbed in, and Devon laid his head back on the seat and closed his eyes. “What. A. Night.”

“Yeah.” Hunter shifted in his seat, unable to resist the chance to look at Devon unobserved, to poke and prod at these new, unfamiliar feelings. Dev’s purple streaks were fading, leaving just the rich brown color beneath, and he had glitter streaked across his cheek from where his sister’s makeup had rubbed off on him during their final hug. All of it should have made him look feminine—other. But Devon was all man. Tall, well built, strong jawed. Any attraction Hunter felt toward him couldn’t be explained away by labeling Dev as anything female-like. The person he’d kissed had been one hundred percent dude.

And the way Devon had been with his sister—protective, in charge, solid. It’d made Hunter realize the depth of maturity that underpinned Devon’s seemingly devil-may-care attitude. The guy was a rock. A good man who’d been through a lot and had come out on the other side of it. A guy Hunter would want in the foxhole with him.

Or maybe other places.

Devon lifted his lids, sending Hunter a wary gaze. “You sobered up yet?”

“I’m good.” He rolled his neck, trying to fight the tension there. “Your sister seems like a sweet kid.”

“Mmm,” he said with a nod. “She’s the best. But I worry about her. She’s still so young. I’m not sure the payoff is worth the stress she has to go through. Sometimes I wish I could just pull her away from it all, move her in with me, and let her have a normal life.”

“Why don’t you?”

He fished out two bottles of water from the chiller and tossed one Hunter’s way. “Because I’m not her dad. And music is her passion. Who am I to tell her not to chase her dream? Plus, it’s not like I have the money to support her yet. My family can’t afford to help and wouldn’t anyway unless she moved home and cut off contact with me. If she stops the music, the money goes away.”

Hunter frowned. “That sucks. I know what that feels like.”

Devon lifted a brow. “You’re loaded. How do you know what that feels like?”

“None of the money’s mine. If I make one wrong move, my dad will cut me off. He uses that money like a weapon. He threatened to do it when I told him I was coming to California for college instead of going to his alma mater. If not for the excuse of the baseball team being one of the best, he would’ve played that inheritance card. That’s why I’m hoping to get into the majors. I want to make my own money so that I don’t have to play his game when I get back home. I can just tell him to go fuck himself.”

Devon took a long sip from his water, never taking his eyes off him. “What are you like at home?”

He shrugged. “Quiet. Keep my opinions to myself. Grin and bear it. Political Son 101.”

Dev shook his head. “I can’t even imagine that version of you.”

Hunter looked out the window. “Yeah, well, my family wouldn’t recognize this me.”

“You mean the you that gets drunk and then makes out with his gay roommate in the middle of a crowd?”

He sniffed. “I figured we were just going to pretend that didn’t happen.”

“Is that what you want?”

Hunter kept his eyes on the cars passing by the window. “I don’t know what I want.”

“Yeah, I’m getting that. Hey”—Devon leaned forward and thumped him on the knee—“you need to look at me and tell me what’s up, man. I mean, was it just a drunken lapse in sanity?”

Hunter’s ribs felt like they were cinched too tight. He tried to take a deep breath and turned to face Devon. “I don’t know.”

Devon rubbed his forehead, looking tired. “I need more than that, Hunt. Is it curiosity? Rebellion?”

His gaze snapped to Devon’s. “Rebellion?”

He smirked, a brittle edge to it. “You said it yourself. Your college experience is a big middle finger to your dad. Messing around with a guy seems like that’d be the ultimate fuck-you to his beliefs. A secret thing you could hold in your pocket while he parades you around as the perfect son.”

Hunter’s stomach burned. That couldn’t be it, right? All this stuff he was feeling around Devon. That couldn’t be fueled by some warped sense of passive-aggressive revenge. “This isn’t about my dad.”

Devon considered him, forearms braced on his thighs, that blue-eyed gaze seeming to reach inside Hunter and poke at things. “Well, not completely. You did get hard when we kissed.”

Hunter’s face flamed. “You were grinding against me.”

“You said you don’t get turned on by other guys.”

“I don’t.” He blew out a breath. “You’re not other guys. You’re . . . you.”

Devon closed his eyes and linked his hands behind his neck, a slightly pained expression on his face. “God, this is such a bad idea.”

“What?”

Devon looked at him. “This. The elephant in the limo. It’s been with us since that night we shared your bed. To cross the line or not. I thought it was just on my end, but after that kiss, I’m thinking I’m not alone.”

Hunter swallowed hard, didn’t deny it.

“I’m not going to be a dick, and pretend I’m not attracted to you,” Dev said, fearlessly holding the eye contact. “You’re a beautiful guy. You know that.”

Hunter leaned back against the seat, surprised by how much the compliment got to him. He had no shortage of people telling him he looked good. Being on the baseball team got him all the attention he could want, but something about Dev saying it made this satisfied warmth spread through him.

“And if you have this burning curiosity to experiment, then goddamn, I’d want to be that guy to help you out.” Devon rubbed his lips together, anxiety there. “But you’re my best friend, Hunt. I don’t have those. Sex can demolish a friendship faster than anything else. And I
really
don’t want to fuck this up.”

“You sleep with your friends all the time.”

“That’s different. They’re casual friends and we know what’s what. I don’t live with them. I don’t tell them about my life. They’re hookups. They’re gay. Everybody knows where they stand.”

“I know how casual sex works. I’ve had my share.”

“With women. Don’t pretend this is the same thing. Things might seem exciting now—all that unknown. But how are you going to feel the morning after when you wake up and it sinks in that you’ve slept with a dude? That the taste lingering in your mouth is my dick? That your ass is sore because I’ve had my fingers or more inside you?”

Hunter could tell Dev was trying to shock him into clear thinking, but instead, his heartbeat ticked up and a whip fast bolt of desire snapped through him, sending all his blood south. He shifted in his seat, trying to adjust the front of his pants, but it was already too late. His cock was half hard and obvious against his jeans.

Devon’s gaze caught Hunter’s movement and then slowly traced down his body until it settled on the telltale sign of arousal. “Fuck.”

Hunter grabbed his jacket and dragged it over his lap. “Just forget it.”

Tense silence ensued, only the sound of the tires on pavement filling the space between them, and Hunter closed his eyes, trying to will his body to stand down. Mortification bled through him when his efforts didn’t do a damn thing, his dick only getting harder.

Finally, after a long minute, Devon cleared his throat. When he spoke, something in his tone had changed. “Move the jacket away.”

Hunter opened his eyes, teeth grinding. “No, this is humiliating enough.”

Devon gave him another once over and then peered out the window as if to verify where they were. He unhooked his seatbelt. “Move the jacket and unzip your pants.”

“What?” Hunter’s stomach clenched. “Dev.”

“I keep trying to stay on my side of the line, but I think we’ve already passed the point of no return tonight. After that kiss, we’re not going to go home tomorrow and have things go back to normal. Maybe we passed the point a long time ago. I was going to tell you tonight that I’m moving into my own place off campus.”

“What?”

Dev slid off his seat and went to his knees in front of Hunter. He grabbed the jacket and tossed it to the side, revealing Hunter’s now rock hard erection. “You won’t have to share space with me much longer. You’ll have an out. So tonight, let’s go with what we know. For whatever reason, you want this. And I want you. Tell me no and it stops.” Devon’s fingers hovered over the fly of Hunter’s jeans. “Tell me to stop.”

Hunter wet his lips. Stayed silent.

Dev unfastened the button on Hunter’s jeans and then pulled down the zipper, keeping his eyes on Hunter’s face as if expecting him to throw up the red flag. Blood rushed through Hunter’s ears at the simple contact, and his heart thumped against his ribs, but he didn’t say a word. The moving out thing they could talk about later. Right now, Devon was right. Hunter wanted this. It scared the hell out of him, but it didn’t change the facts.

Devon slid his hand into the fly of Hunter’s boxers and wrapped velvet fingers around his cock, making Hunter shudder with so many needy things, he couldn’t pick a sensation to go with.

“Jesus,” Devon said, losing a little bit of his own composure. “You’re big everywhere.”

It should’ve felt awkward, having another guy comment on his dick size, but somehow it only made him hotter. “I get that all the time.”

Devon snorted. “Cocky asshole.”

But before Hunter could respond, Devon was tugging down Hunter’s jeans and boxers. Hunter’s erection bobbed between them. And for one crystalized moment, everything seemed surreal. His best friend was between his thighs about to suck him off.
Devon
was about to suck him off. A dart of panic went through him, but then Dev dragged his tongue over the head of Hunter’s cock with a slow coaxing lick, and the fear dissipated like bubbles in soda pop.

Hunter’s fingers gripped the edge of the limo seat, a choked noise getting caught in his throat, and Devon eased his mouth down over him. Wet, hot suction and a talented tongue engulfed him. Hunter tilted his head back against the seat and cursed as pure, untempered wanting washed through him.

Devon pulled off, his breath balmy on the crown of Hunter’s cock. “Look at me.”

The loss of the stimulation was so acute, Hunter had to fight the urge not to grab Dev’s hair and push him back down. “What?”

“A blow job is a blow job if you have your eyes closed. If you want your questions answered, watch who’s doing it to you.”

Hunter sucked in a deep breath and lifted his head to look down at what was happening. When his eyes met Devon’s, Devon held the gaze and took him back into his mouth. Hunter’s lungs stalled, the connection almost too intense. But then Dev closed his eyes and gave Hunter the space to take in the view without pressure.

Hunter almost couldn’t process the scene, the violet-streaked hair, the scruff of a five ’o clock shadow scraping his thigh, the broad shoulders flexing as Devon worked him over. Tentatively, he reached out and cupped the back of Devon’s head, letting the strands brush over his palm. It felt like he’d entered some bizarro world. But in some odd way, the whole thing felt natural, too. His closest friend was making him feel good.
Really
good.

Devon slipped his mouth off Hunter’s shaft, replacing the absence with his hand, and his head dipped lower. A hot tongue stroked over Hunter’s balls and probing fingers scraped along the tender underside of his sac.

“Christ.” Hunter’s feet arched from the sensation, spikes of pleasure working up his spine. He was going to come before he blinked at this rate.

“Damn, Hunt,” Devon said, desire heavy in his voice. “I want to taste you everywhere. You’re so fucking sensitive.”

Devon licked his way up the bottom of Hunter’s length and blessedly took him in his mouth again, but his fingers continued to work over the now slick spot behind Hunter’s scrotum. The limo slowed, but Hunter was too forgone to care. “I’m close, Dev.”

Hunter expected him to pull away, finish him with his hand. But Devon didn’t back off, he just took Hunter’s cock deeper, tapping the head against the back of his throat and humming in appreciation.

That did it. Hunter’s back bowed, his fingers tightened on Devon’s head, and release slammed into him. He pumped his hips, rocking into Devon’s mouth like a desperate man, as stabs of blissful sensation ripped through him, and he spilled onto Devon’s tongue. Devon took it all, swallowing him down and gripping his hip to keep him steady.

It was one of the most erotic sights he’d ever seen, Devon’s throat working as he took every bit of Hunter. He couldn’t tear his gaze away, and he pushed himself past the point he’d normally be able to handle to enjoy the moment a little longer. But soon everything went overly sensitive and almost painful, and he had to force himself to pull away. He collapsed back onto the seat in a heap of limp muscles, his hands dropping to his sides.