Four Letter Word (Love Logic #2) - K.M. Neuhold Page 0,89

the dim light of the living room, I glance over at Leo, my heart giving a small squeeze. The light of the TV dances over his features, giving him an ethereal sort of look.

If I could go back in time and change what I did, I would in a heartbeat. All I had with Travis was a few weeks of secretly making out in empty classrooms or behind the bleachers. It was never worth giving up so many years of friendship, I just wish I’d known that the first second he kissed me.

Images of a thousand inside jokes and secret smiles Leo and I shared over the years flit through my mind—memories of ridiculous competitions and stupid dares, late nights spent playing video games in my parents’ basement, and complaining about teachers and classmates, that one time we were both feeling bold and horny and ended up jerking off together, never touching but watching each other as we stroked ourselves.

I shift in my seat, my cock stiffening at the memory. I swear I can still smell the stale sweat and gym sock scent of my basement, hear the gentle creak of couch springs as we jerked ourselves off, Leo’s heavy breaths and his half-bitten moan when he exploded, spilling creamy white cum over his fist.

Heat prickles at my skin, and I spread my legs in an attempt to get more comfortable with my now raging hard-on crushed in my jeans.

Bishop’s breath tickles the side of my neck, which does nothing to help my situation.

“Something particularly exciting about this movie?” he whispers, his voice filled with restrained humor.

I turn my head to answer him and find his face right there. I don’t give it a second thought before kissing him. He makes a surprised noise against my mouth before parting his lips and kissing me back.

“I see how it is. Hudson starts sucking on your face, and I lose out on that fabulous scalp massage you were giving me,” Riot complains, and Bishop laughs against my lips.

“We need snacks,” Bishop declares as he pulls away from the kiss.

“Snacks, yes,” Riot agrees, nodding his head enthusiastically, even though we just finished dinner. “Are there any cookies? Ooo, or brownies?”

“There are lemon bars in the fridge,” Leo answers. “I’ll get them.”

“No, I’ve got it,” Bishop says. “Hudson, come help me?”

“Help you get lemon bars out of the fridge?” I ask skeptically.

“Just come on.” Bishop chuckles and tugs me off the couch.

As I follow him to the kitchen, I hear Riot mutter, “They’d better not forget my lemon bars when they’re done getting off.” Leo laughs, and Bishop either doesn’t hear or ignores it.

We step into the kitchen, and Bishop spins on me, pinning me against the counter and kissing me again. His lips are demanding against mine, and he wastes no time unzipping my pants and shoving his hands inside to stroke my throbbing cock.

This is a world apart from the usual half-reluctant, half-desperate version of him I’ve grown used to over the years. It occurs to me for the first time that since we worked things out, he hasn’t been second guessing things like he used to, and that realization is thrilling. My cock pulses in his hand, and he moans into my mouth, his tongue sliding against mine.

“What got you so turned on?” he asks, kissing along my jaw, his teeth grazing my skin every so often, sending a thrill through my body that settles in my groin.

I swallow, my brain scrambling over the question. We talked about honesty, right?

“Leo,” I confess, and Bishop’s kisses stutter. He pulls away and looks at me, his expression intense but impossible to decipher. Is he upset by my answer? Or...is it possible he’s turned on?

“Seriously?”

I shrug one of my shoulders. “I know he hates me, but it doesn’t stop me from remembering how things used to be.” My heart clenches at the memories that flood me—late nights spent finding ways to get into all kinds of trouble, inside jokes that Bishop wasn’t even always in on, a million lazy summers and mischievous winters…

“Oh, Huds, I’m sorry.” He kisses my lips again; this time it’s tender and soft, almost too sweet to bear, his hand still wrapped around my cock, stroking me slowly.

Without warning, he breaks the kiss and drops to his knees, grinning up at me with a look in his eyes that makes filthy promises. He pulls my pants down around my thighs, pressing a kiss to the base of my cock, chaste