“I hope so.” His voice trembled.
Justin’s exhale was hot on his cheek, a short bark of shaking air. His eyes were huge, ringed with desire and, inexplicably, fear. Wes ran his hand down Justin’s back, pulling him closer. “You’re afraid?”
“A little, yeah.”
“Of me?”
Justin bit his lip so hard Wes saw the red skin turn white around the divots he created. “I never get what I want,” he murmured. “This isn’t real. This is a dream. I’m going to wake up and you’re getting ready to go on a run, you’re tiptoeing around the room, you’re putting your earbuds in—”
Wes kissed Justin, pressed their lips together, cut off Justin’s breathless ramble. He tasted cherry ChapStick and felt the slide of Justin’s slick, soft lips against his own dry, rough pair. Did Justin wish he was softer, that his lips were gentler—
Groaning, Justin hurled himself into Wes’s arms. Wrapped his arms around Wes’s head, cradled him in the crooks of his elbows, hooked one knee around the solidity of Wes’s thigh. He kissed Wes as if he’d wanted to kiss him from the moment they’d met, the moment Wes had walked through the door and seen him in the slanted sunlight. And Wes held him tight, held him like he was precious and perfect and everything Wes had ever wanted.
Because he was. In that moment, beneath the lights of the Eiffel Tower, Paris under his skin and inside his veins, Justin was everything he’d waited his whole life for.
Chapter Four
His back hit the wall outside their hotel room, Justin trying to climb him like a tree. His lips were everywhere, kissing him, sucking on his ear, mouthing his jaw, over his pulse and down to his collarbone. His hands rose over Wes’s rib cage, fingers sliding to his back and digging into his shoulders.
Wes groaned, his hat tumbling to the floor again as he wrapped his arms around Justin and hefted him up, trying to drag him closer, as close as he could. Justin wound his legs around Wes’s waist, looped his hands behind Wes’s head. “Take me to bed, cowboy.”
He fumbled with the lock, arms shaking. Was this happening? Was this really happening? Justin in his arms, Justin pressing kisses to every inch of his face. He tried to breathe like he was tearing down the field, like he’d just caught Colton’s dump pass and had the end zone in sight. His heart was pounding, harder than it ever had during a game. He carried Justin into the room, kicking the door closed behind him.
Justin’s thighs squeezed his hips, hands cradling his face as he gazed at Wes like he wanted to devour him. Wes’s throat clenched, and he stumbled as he headed for his bed. He tried to be suave. Gentle. Tried to hide how his hands were shaking as he lay Justin down on his mattress.
Justin was a koala, clinging to Wes even as his back hit the sheets. He never stopped kissing Wes, their tongues tangling as he pulled Wes’s shirt free from his waistband. They broke apart for the instant it took to rip it off, and then Justin’s lips were back and his hands were on Wes’s skin, traveling over his heaving chest, his trembling sides. Justin tugged Wes closer as he spread his legs. Dragged Wes down, wrapping his ankles around Wes’s back and rolling his hips up, digging his hard cock into Wes’s belly.
Wes made a noise, a grunt, a groan he’d never admit to. His palm landed on the pillow next to Justin’s head as his vision went sideways, and he had to close his eyes and hold his breath as Justin’s thumbs went to work on his nipples.
Despite the lines of fire sliding through his body, burrowing beneath his skin and into every nerve, his cock was turning shy. Not now!
Justin slid one hand down Wes’s chest, down his abs, just like he’d imagined that morning, and reached for his fly.
He stilled when he felt Wes’s flagging erection. Their lips clung together even after he pulled back a fraction of an inch. Wes tried to chase the kiss, tried to chase Justin. No, no, please. He leaned in, dug their foreheads together. He was shaking.
“Wes?” Justin whispered. He’d popped Wes’s fly, and his fingers danced over the bulge of his soft cock.
Why are you doing this now? Now, when this is everything we wanted?
Wes’s breath bounced off Justin’s lips. “I’m nervous.”
Justin’s hand cradled his hip. His thumb stroked the arch of bone, the indent of taut skin over his oblique. “No need to be nervous. I don’t bite.” He smiled. His foot stroked up and down the back of Wes’s thigh. “Unless you say please.”
Wes chuckled. “I don’t know, maybe I’d like that.”
Justin grinned. Then blinked. “Maybe?”
“I—” Wes rubbed his nose over Justin’s. “I’ve really never done this before.”
“Never been with a guy?”
“Never been with anyone.”
Justin’s eyes went wide. His foot and his thumb stilled. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. Seriously.” Wes shrugged. “It wasn’t right with a girl. I never wanted to get close enough to a girl to get this far. And… I’ve never kissed a guy until tonight.”
Justin’s jaw dropped. He stared at Wes, into Wes. Sat up slowly, leaning back on his elbows as Wes tipped to his side and crashed to the squeaky mattress. He didn’t want to let go of Justin, though, and he kept stroking Justin’s thigh, up and down the taut muscle. Justin’s cock bulged against his fly. Wes stared at it, wishing he was Superman with X-ray vision and could see right through the denim, that he could get his first glimpse of a cock he was allowed to crave.
“We should slow down.” Justin’s hand landed on the center of Wes’s chest, his fingers pressing into his skin, through the curls of his chest hair. “I didn’t know. I didn’t think…”
Wes glanced down at his limp dick. Shrugged. “Guess we have to.”
“Not because of that.” Justin shifted, rolling onto his side and sliding his body against Wes’s, legs tangling, hips slotted together, his hand sliding over Wes’s heart. “My first time was kind of crappy. It was a rush. We were sneaking. It wasn’t special. I don’t want that for you.”
“You’re special.” Wes laid his hand over Justin’s. His palm was huge, covering almost all of Justin’s hand and his long fingers. He pulled Justin’s hand up, kissed his knuckles.
“Why?” Justin tipped his head to the side. “Why me?”
If he knew the answer to that… Wes exhaled. He rubbed his thumb over Justin’s skin. “I really, really like you. I was coming to Paris to knock out a year of French, but now… You’ve taken everything over. I can’t think about anything except you. Even in class, I’m always sneaking looks at you. I want to hear your voice and see your eyes and watch you smile. I want to listen to you talk all day. French, English—hell, gibberish. I just want to hear your voice. Be around you. And I don’t know why. I mean, I do.” He fumbled. This was more than he ever spoke at once. “You’re… great.” Well said, Wes. He always had a way with words, his mama had said. They ran from him. “I’ve never met anyone like you. I’m surrounded by jocks. Football players. Stuck-up athletic trainers. Groupies. I’ve never met someone so…” Free. He wanted to say free. “Independent. Strong. So themselves.”