Strung Tight (The Road To Rocktoberfest #1) - Ann Lister Page 0,13
a guy before?” I asked and my voice cracked.
“Yeah, a few guys and a handful of girls,” he said. “I’m bi, but I guess you could say I prefer men.”
“Jesus, I had no idea.” I sighed.
“How would you know?” he asked. “I don’t go around announcing that to everyone I meet. I also don’t go around kissing someone I just met, but you’re so different. I really wanted to kiss you.”
“Do I look gay or bi?”
“What the hell does gay or bi look like, Fletch?” Dallas scoffed in a way that I knew I’d upset him.
“I’m sorry. I’m not deliberately trying to offend you, but it’s never crossed my mind to do this with a guy,” I admitted. “It doesn’t bother me if I see other guys get together or if two dudes are touching in a porn movie. I never considered it as something I’d ever want to do.”
“It’s okay, Fletch. I get it. You’re straight,” Dallas said, and I could hear the disappointment in his tone.
“Obviously, I’m not anywhere near as straight as I thought I was because that just … blew my fucking mind,” I confessed, and a gorgeous smile spread across Dallas’s face.
“Jesus, if the kissing stole your brain cells, I’m not sure you could handle a blowjob—or more.”
Dallas just let his statement hang there between us for me to chew on. What did he mean by more than a blowjob? Fucking? Is that something he wanted to do to me? Did I want something more than kissing from him? My head felt like it was literally going to explode from all the overthinking.
“Shit, I gotta head home,” I said.
“It’s cool, Fletch. Nothing else needs to happen,” Dallas explained. “I wasn’t implying otherwise. In fact, we don’t even have to kiss again. I just like hanging out with you, that’s all. I had no plans beyond that to flip you or something.”
“Flip me?” What the fuck did that mean? Was that code for some kind of sex position?
“It means, to turn you gay,” Dallas explained.
“That’s not how it works,” I added.
“Duh, I know the drill,” Dallas said with a chuckle. “I was fifteen the first time I hooked up with a guy. He was a friend, which I think was why we both felt comfortable doing it. A year later, I fucked a girl at a party, and although it felt pretty amazing with her and all the other girls I screwed in the years that followed, getting off with a dude has always felt more powerful for me.”
“I’ve been with a bunch of girls,” I stated. “None of them were all that great at getting me off.”
“Maybe you’re bi?”
I shrugged at his comment. I’d never once given any consideration to my sexuality. It wasn’t something I felt needed to be dissected or questioned. I was straight. All my friends were straight, and when we talked about who we slept with, it was girls—not guys, so it wasn’t anything I ever gave much thought to even in my alone time.
Until Dallas.
Kissing him was nothing at all like any other kiss I’d shared with a girl. In fact, I’d never really been a fan of kissing—until Dallas. He brought every cell in my body to life with the press of his lips to mine. The strokes of his tongue inside my mouth probably could have made me come if I’d allowed him to continue. I had no idea kissing could feel like that, and Jesus, I was intrigued with what Dallas had suggested about my sexuality. Maybe that’s why sex hadn’t felt all that spectacular to me because I’d been doing it with the wrong gender. All this time I thought it was me who just wasn’t all that interested in sex, but what if Dallas was right? What if my non-existent desire to get naked with a woman had more to do with her gender than me not enjoying sex? Maybe I just needed the right partner.
My breathing began to come faster as I tried to wrap my brain around this new revelation of sorts. If Dallas was right, then everything I thought I knew about myself was wrong. Where the fuck did I go now? More and more questions started firing off inside my head until I was nearly hyperventilating. I stopped walking toward the ladder at the back of the truck roof and turned around to find Dallas right behind me. He was so close we almost bumped into each other.