He’d given me an incredulous, slightly sympathetic, look and asked, “Are you sure you’re interested in being with a man?”
I’d reluctantly confessed that I, frequently, thought about kissing Tahegin and that I thought about him while jacking off. My cheeks had flushed entirely too dark at that.
“Some guys don’t like anal.” He’d shrugged. “Maybe you and Tahegin would be fine without it.”
“I do like it, though. With women.” Being a top seems like what I’m familiar with when it comes to women. I am, obviously, the one used to doing the penetration.
Micah had pulled a face at that, then tried to convince me why bottoming is so great. When I shuttered, he’d given me a deadpan stare. “Seriously? You’re fine with a woman offering it to you, but you’re not man enough to take it?”
That question had struck a chord within me because I had to admit he was somewhat right. I took it but couldn’t give it? Wouldn’t even try?
Hmph.
“If you throw up, please aim for the trash can,” a voice thick with sleep says from beside me.
My breath catches, hands still covering my face.
Tahegin.
He’s still in bed. I thought for sure he would be up by now. As a natural morning person, he’s usually awake well before breakfast. Most of the time, I wake up alone in our hotel room, Tahegin already downstairs for the first pot of coffee brewed that morning.
“I’m okay,” I mutter, voice nothing but bass and gravel. I clear my throat before continuing. “You’re in bed late.”
“Late night,” he sighs. “And I didn’t sleep well.”
“Shit. Sorry.” The late night was my fault, and his not sleeping well . . . Probably my fault, too. I slept like a rock, which means I most likely snored. “Micah usually just pushes my face away if I’m snoring.” Dropping my hands, I roll on my side to face him, conscious of my morning breath. There is plenty of space between us, and my head says that is a good thing. My heart, on the other hand, hates it.
Tahegin looks at me, blue eyes more dull than usual, and squints. “What? Oh, no, you’re fine. You have, like, cute baby snores.”
I scowl. “No, I don’t.”
“You know the animated Hercules movie? When the baby and the Pegasus are sleeping—”
“No.”
“Yes,” he laughs, and though the dark circles under his eyes remain, the blue within them brightens just a little. Apparently, all it takes is a little teasing at my expense to perk him up a bit. “You, uh.” He bites his lip, thinking. “You and Micah still . . .” He trails off.
It takes me a second to remember what I’d said and how I’d said it. “We—no. No. Micah and I were roommates for four years, so sometimes I accidentally speak like we still are—just a habit, I guess. He used to march across our dorm room in the middle of the night to push my face away. It woke me up every time, even though he swore he was being gentle, but . . . Yeah. He and I don’t have sleepovers or anything like that—not since we were forced to room together for years.”
“So, just me, then?” Tahegin smiles at me, and I temporarily forget every word in the entire English language.
My cheeks are warm when I whisper, “Just you.”
A stomach rumbles between us, effectively breaking a long silence in which we were just staring at each other. We both chuckle at what sounds like a dying whale.
“Breakfast?” he asks.
“I can cook,” I offer. “Unless your staff is here today and already has food waiting for you, Your Highness.”
“Nope.” He pops the P the way he always does. “They have the day off after a game because I like to cheat on my diet without feeling guilty.”
“Because cheating today is different than tomorrow?”
“We don’t have practice today.”
“With that logic, I’m scared to see what you eat during the off-season.”
Tahegin falls apart laughing, and damn him for being so perfect that his morning breath is practically nonexistent. “If you were Aleks, I wouldn’t hesitate to make a dirty response.”
I find myself quirking a curious brow. “Why not make it with me?”
Propping up on one elbow, he squints at me. “It was going to be a gay joke, but I guess I could’ve said—”
“Do you think I care?” I cut him off. “You know who my best friend is, right?”
“Fine.” He rolls his eyes dramatically. “I would have joked and said I eat a lot of dick during the off-season. I guess I could say puss—”
Sitting up, I plant my hand on his—Jesus—bare chest and push him back down onto the bed until I am hovering over him. “Don’t. Don’t change yourself because you think I would prefer you to be one way or the other. Besides, we expect ladies to suck us off, so who are men to shy away from the idea of a cock in our mouths?”
“Straight men, Hendrix,” he deadpans. “Straight men shy away at that.”
“Whatever.” Rolling off the bed is an excuse to put some distance between myself and Tahegin’s bare chest before I do something stupid like say, “Let’s see if this straight man doesn’t mind blowing you” because I am this close to offering.
God, am I really? A month ago, I just wanted to kiss him. I haven’t even done that, and my brain is already skipping several bases ahead. “So, breakfast?”
He reclines back, the wide expanse of his bronze chest on full display as the blanket slips low on his waist. “Ah, yes. Feed me your succulent breakfast, Rix.”
Fuck me, my thoughts are not safe. Not safe at all.
