Setting Fire to the Stars (a MM Sci-Fi Romance)

Chapter 14: Trepidation

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Peter
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I am going to strangle Whitt and his brother with my bare hands.

My heart thumped wildly between my ribs as I stomped down the stairs, blood pumping loudly in my ears and into other parts of me. My lips tingled from the barest brush we'd shared, fireworks careening across my inward sky that had gone dark long ago. Pulling in breath after ragged breath as if I'd just finished an arduous bout of training, I savored drawing in the pleasing scent of vanilla and wildflower honey that clung to my clothes.

He'd said yes.

My heart was raising hell, all the blood in my body going south as images of those pouty lips and gorgeous eyes spun through my mind like a skipping record. Lauren beneath me, his slender, lithe body soft and submissive beneath my hands, his face pleasantly flushed with a hue of pink I'd only see in my sweetest dreams. God, I loved the way he felt so wonderfully pliant against me, loved the way his mouth dropped open as our lengths rubbed together. The swollen length of my cock throbbed in interest against the seams of my pants at the thought, a reluctant groan vibrating my throat.

He'd said yes!

Christ, I had to get my shit together now, or I really would just turn right the fuck around and take him. I was more aroused than I'd ever been in my entire life. Fucking a bunch of one-night stands used to do something for me, but not anymore. Now that I had a taste of him, I didn't see how I could ever go back. Tracing those small freckles that scattered across his shoulders was my new purpose in life. That expectant look in those captivating morning-mist eyes shook my crumbling resolve.

Readjusting my straining member in my jeans, I forced my steps to quicken as I jogged downstairs. Whatever those damn twins wanted, and it better be fucking important. The quicker I dealt with them, the sooner I could get back to the man waiting for me. His scent alone had turned me feral to touch him, mold my body to his. Lauren looked as though he was made to be worshiped under my hands.

He hadn't pushed me away. He hadn't said no. Instead, the sweetest of moans had fallen from his pretty little lips at the friction between us. That was the part that had me losing my fucking mind. I'd watched him lose his composure first hand, not because of someone else's touch, but because of the pleasure I gave him.

The dreams I'd kept locked away of stolen kisses and wishful caresses were nothing compared to the real thing. Nothing mattered to me more now than marching right back in there, stripping his clothes off, and tasting each and every inch—

Fucking hell, Ducane. Keep. It. Together.

Now I wasn't a novice when it came to sex. Being the quarterback of Kingswell College's football team had come with many perks, one of them being that I had the attention of nearly every girl on campus. Cheerleader, sororities, whatever. Straight Peter could have any girl he desired.

Not-So-Straight Peter had only ever wanted him.

So what was my deal? Was I gay? The thought instinctively twisted my sides into a pretzel. I still got it up for girls, so I wasn't completely turned off to them. Maybe I liked both? What was the word for that? Bi? Did that make me bi now? Not even that, but since when was I unable to control myself around him?

Swinging myself down the next flight so fast, I nearly scraped the skin off my palm on the railing from the burn of friction. Normally had a leash on these emotions. These feelings. . . I didn't even know how to describe them. From the tent I was pitching, it sure seemed a hell of a lot like desire.