Plan B (12 page)

“I…. Um….”

Lance was getting off on it, and I wasn’t about to let a little embarrassment ruin the mood. I reached out and stroked his hard length through the cotton material and covered his mouth with mine. Lance was so hard against my palm; I could feel his rapid pulse racing through the thick veins. His discomfort at being caught enjoying the movie forgotten, he grabbed the back of my head, hand tightening in my hair, tugging, sending sparks of pain across my scalp as he controlled the kiss. Christ, he was ruthless, fucking my mouth with his tongue. I had no doubt he could have come just from the pressure of my hand on his dick and the assault on my mouth, but I wanted more than a mutual masturbation session. I wanted to taste him.

I had seen
The Bachelor’s Party
enough times, I knew exactly what was happening on the screen by the wet sucking noises emitting from the TV. I pried his fingers from my hair and kissed my way down his chin and then to his Adam’s apple. The deep rumbling sound he made as I nipped and sucked at his throat vibrated against my tongue.

I didn’t linger but moved steadily down his body, licking a path from his navel to his groin and pulling another harsh sound from him that I felt in my dick. Lance wasn’t the only one who was close. Just watching him react to the film, the way he’d absently touched himself, had me aching.

Lance took in a harsh breath when I placed a kiss on the head of his prick, the sound growing louder when I licked at his slit. Fuck, he tasted amazing, bitter and musky, and I wanted more. I sucked the flared head into my mouth, tongue swirling as I pushed his jeans down his hips for better access to his entire length.

“Ah, Christ, that feels good,” Lance moaned.

I lifted my eyes to find him staring at me, his kiss-swollen lips parted. I pulled back just enough that his wet cock was against my lips when I spoke. “You’re missing the movie.” I licked him again, blowing my warm breath against the sensitive head, causing him to shudder.

His eyes flicked to the screen, then settled back on me. He pressed his palm against my cheek; his thumb teased the side of my mouth, his gentle touch at such odds with how wound up he seemed to be. “It can’t hold my attention when I have you to watch.”

I lowered my head slowly until I took him into my throat—thank God for no gag reflex—and swallowed.

“Holy fuck!” Lance groaned, the strangled sound echoing off the walls of the small room. I glanced up to see his eyes wide in disbelief.

I loved to give head and was damn good at it. From Lance’s reaction, I knew he’d never had anyone give him a proper blowjob and no way would he last long. I shoved down my sweats and stroked myself. I bobbed my head, taking him deep, then back up till just the head was past my lips, then slowly down the entire length. He was close, his body vibrating, breaths harsh. I increased the speed of my hand, pumping hard and fast as I planned to step over the edge into bliss with him.

As I continued to suck him, I reached over and cupped his balls, gently tugging and massaging. Lance gasped and grabbed the back of my skull in his palm. At first he only held it against my head, but then he went wild beneath me, squirming and thrusting, seizing my hair in his fist.

“Oh. Oh fuck.” His back arched, his muscles tensing further. “Danny… better stop,” he tried warning me, but I wasn’t going to be denied. I sucked harder.

Give it to me.
I pulled back when I felt him swell further against my tongue, until just the flared head was in my mouth and I hungrily feasted on his flesh. I squeezed at the base of my own dick, not wanting to come until Lance was sated. The first burst of hot cream on my tongue was my undoing. I greedily swallowed every drop, and the pressure I’d added to my shaft wasn’t enough to hold back my orgasm as Lance’s flavor filled my mouth. I breathed harshly through my nose and whimpered, unwilling to release his still-throbbing cock while I shot burst after burst over Lance leg.

I felt Lance’s body go slack, and only then did I let his prick slip from my mouth. The death grip he had on my hair loosened and then fell away.

I licked the small drop of cum from the corner of my mouth and crawled up the bed to lie next to him. I reached over, snatched up the remote and turned off the TV, the room falling into darkness. I kissed his chest before laying my head upon it. “Damn, I can’t wait to act out the next scene. You taste amazing.”

I must have sucked out his ability to speak along with his orgasm, because he let out a nervous laugh and patted my hip. “I’ll need a little recovery time here, Danny.”

I could only imagine what his comment would have been if I’d told him the next scene included a double-headed dildo.

T
HE
winter of my sophomore year in college, at the time, seemed like one of the best periods of my life. I’d spent three full days snowed in with Lance, getting to know him. I learned that he was so much more than a dumb jock as I’d originally thought. I’d accused him of not being the brightest crayon in the box, which was unfair. Lance worked his ass off with tutors to maintain the C average needed to be eligible to play football. Dyslexia made it all the more difficult for him. However, he’d been playing football since he was big enough to throw a ball, and he had a passion for it. His passion helped him seize a full-ride scholarship to the University of Michigan; otherwise he’d be playing for one of the smaller schools. His parents were hard-working, took good care of their children, but could never have afforded to send them to college. They must have instilled their hard-work standards in both of their children, because Katie had also gotten a scholarship, hers based on academics rather than athletics.

Lance’s dream was that his passion and his strong work ethic would take him all the way to the NFL one day. Beyond that, he had no Plan B.

There was also so much more to him. Beneath the cocky jock-boy persona was a hell of a nice guy with a lot of charm who was witty as hell. He loved to cuddle when he slept, which was a huge plus for me. He was devoted to his family and friends. I also learned Lance and Katie weren’t just close siblings—they were twins. It explained why he was so close to her and why he wanted to know and interact with those in her life. However, it didn’t explain his fascination with me.

I wasn’t complaining.

During our snowbound days, Lance went from being obsessed with touching my dick to having my lips touch his. He’d had plenty of blowjobs prior to our hooking up, but never one as good as I gave, and yeah, I admit, I liked being the best. When he didn’t have his dick shoved down my throat or we weren’t rubbing off, jerking off, or kissing, we were eating or playing cards. We completely wiped out Bo’s stash of junk food his mom was always sending him that he kept stored under his bed, and played no less than a thousand games of double solitaire. It was either that or watch Bo’s collection of DVDs, and that was a huge no-fucking-way for me.

I’m pretty sure it was during those three days that my heart threw out the memo that it was not to get attached to Lance. The way he would touch me was like nothing I’d ever experienced before. I’d woken one morning to find him gently stroking my hair, looking at me with this… I’m not sure how to describe the look. Awe, wonderment. All I do know was that it stole my fucking breath. It was after we were finally shoveled out that everything began to change.

The first few weeks were fine. Lance would come over every chance he got to satisfy his new favorite pastime, and I was satisfied to have a new fuck buddy. Well, I guess I couldn’t really call him a fuck buddy, since we weren’t fucking, but I had hope. I knew Lance was trying to come to terms with his attraction for me, so I was patient. My insane schedule didn’t allow me to worry over how my feelings for Lance were changing. Running around like a chicken with its head cut off, trying to fit thirty-six hours into twenty-four, doesn’t leave much time to think about such things.

Mid-March was busy—ramped up to beyond busy—yeah, no big surprise there. To my great delight and that of my parents, I’d snagged the lead role in
West Side Story
. My dad had also starred as Tony when he was in college, so it was important that I give my all to this new family tradition.

Wednesdays were a total bitch for me. I had three classes, voice coach, and then rehearsal. I’d just gotten back from the theater one Wednesday night and the minute I had my coat and shoes off, I dove onto my bed. I had plans to nap for an hour and then spend the rest of the night cramming for an exam I had the next morning on the conceptualization of a play, when my phone rang. I ignored both it and the beep indicating I had a message. The second sequence of rings and beep had me groaning and pulling my tired ass up from the bed to power the son of a bitch off.

Just as I pulled it from my coat pocket, it rang again.

“What,” I snapped without looking at the display screen.

“Whoa, someone sounds a bit cranky.”

“You have no idea.”

“Would it help if I told you I missed you?” Lance asked.

I sat on the edge of the bed and ran a hand over my burning eyes. “Probably not. I’m too exhausted to care.”

“Aw, c’mon, Danny. It’s been five days since I’ve seen you, and if I know you, you haven’t eaten. Let me take you out to dinner.”

He was right. I hadn’t had anything but half of a stale bagel earlier that morning and my stomach growled at the prospect of food. My body, however, said, “Not going to happen.” I flopped back on the bed and rested my head on the pillow. “I’m too tired to go out. How about you bring dinner here?”

“Um…. Well….”

“Well what?” Exhaustion made my voice abrasive.

After a minute of silence, Lance finally said, “How about a drive-through? We can eat in the car and then I’ll bring you back.”

“What part of
tired
don’t you understand? Why can’t you just pick up something? Work with me here.”

“I’m already halfway there.”

This meant he’d just passed McDonald’s two minutes ago. Heaven forbid he’d have to turn around. My aching feet and weary muscles argued with my grumbling gut, but finally my hunger won out over the need for sleep. I could have saved myself some grief and grabbed something from Bo’s restocked junk food, but I did miss Lance. “All right. How long?”

“Five.”

“I’ll meet you out front.”

I slipped on my tennis shoes and grabbed my coat. I didn’t bother with hat and scarf; I was getting door-to-door service. Lance was sitting at the curb halfway to the end of the building.
So much for door-to-door.
I wrapped my coat tighter around me and jogged to his car, nearly ass-planting when I hit a patch of ice. I caught myself and cursed the lack of traction on my Converse, then threw in a ripe curse for Lance for making me walk.

“What the hell?” I asked when I slid into his car. “You couldn’t park any farther away?”

“Uh, yeah, sorry about that.” He put the car in drive. “Someone was parked there when I first got here.”

I thought his statement and the tone of his voice was a little odd. It had taken me less than five minutes to get from my room to the front and I hadn’t seen anyone pulling away. I just shrugged, too out of it to question him about it. At least he’d been considerate enough to have the heat on full blast.

“So what do you feel like eating?”

“Anything is fine.”

Lance nodded and pulled out onto the road. “You look good,” he said, stealing a glance my way.

I hadn’t bothered to shower or wash my face when I’d gotten home, so I was still in full, crazy summer look, with yellow, pink, purple, and green eye shadows and half-false lashes. Yeah, I know it was only March and summer was months away. But by that time of year in Michigan, you are so over winter.

“Thanks. You look good too.”

And he did. Lance had been letting his hair grow out, his bangs now shaggy brown waves over his forehead, a short trimmed dark beard covered his jaw. So, so rugged, and sexy, he never failed to get my blood rushing.

After grabbing a couple of double cheeseburger meals, his super-sized of course, Lance drove to the parking garage instead of back to the dorm.

“What are we doing here?”

“Just thought we’d eat before it got cold is all.”

I cocked my head at him, brows going up. He was acting so weird, but I didn’t call him on it.

The garage was deserted that time of night but he parked at the back, away from any overhead lights. Once he put the car in park, I passed out the food, then leaned back against the door and munched on a fry.

“This is cozy. A little dark, but cozy.”

I could barely make Lance out—the only light in the car was from the display on the radio—but I saw him shrug. “Yeah, just you and me,” he said around a mouth full of food.

“I did tell you Bo wasn’t home, right?”

“Mmm hmm.” He washed down the bite he’d taken with his soda. “With how tired you’ve been, I worried about you dying. So I just saved your life.”

“Dying?”

“Yeah. If I fed you in your bed, you’d probably pass out midbite and end up choking to death.” Even in the low light I could see his wide, bright white smile. “You’re welcome.”