“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.”
“You don’t get out much.”
He ran his hand from Justin’s hip to his belly, then slipped it beneath Justin’s shirt. “You make me feel real.”
Justin chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Is that what you want? To feel real?”
“I’ve always wanted that. But it couldn’t happen.”
“What’s different now? Why are you kissing me?”
“Why does the ball need to be caught?”
Justin frowned.
“Because it’s there. Because it’s thrown. Why now? Because you’re here. Because I waited my whole life for the right moment, and the right guy, and…” Wes smiled. Ran his palm over the taut skin beneath Justin’s belly button. “This feels right. Like when I picked up my first football and ran across the yard, all the way down the drive, kept running into the pasture until my dad had to chase me. I knew what felt right. Grabbing that ball and running. Riding my horse as far as I could, to the end of my world. Now you. You feel like the rightest thing I’ve ever laid my eyes on.” He ducked his head. “I didn’t know if you would be interested in me. If you were into guys, or…”
“You didn’t know I was gay? Seems like everyone knows by looking at me.”
“I didn’t. I mean, I don’t have a lot of experience here, but I just thought you were cooler than I was. More cultured. Smarter.”
“Well.” Justin smiled. Pretended to be smug. “I try.”
“You succeeded. Got me all spun up ‘bout you.” He laid his accent on thick and heavy, like slow honey under a summer sun.
Justin cupped his cheek and pulled him close, kissing him slowly, and then not slowly, until Wes pushed Justin to the mattress and rose over him again. He kissed Justin’s lips, then down to his chin, his neck, bit gently on the edge of his collarbone. “Can I take your shirt off?”
“Of course.” Justin tore his button-down and undershirt off so fast he was almost a blur. He flung the clothing somewhere beyond them, out of sight. He lay back as Wes bit down on his pec, then nibbled his way from nipple to nipple, swirling the tiny nubs with his tongue. Justin tasted like sunshine and a hint of sweat after a long day wandering Paris. Wes brushed his stubbled cheek over Justin’s chest. He was close enough to see the goose bumps rise on Justin’s skin as Wes’s breath caressed it. Was this really happening?
He kissed a slow path down Justin’s abdomen. Detoured to his belly button and dipped his tongue inside. Justin groaned, grabbed Wes’s head, and dug his fingers into Wes’s scalp. His cock was rock hard and tenting his jeans, pressing against Wes’s chest.