Nothing but Smoke (Fire and Rain) (24 page)

Every muscle on Logan’s body tensed and quivered, like he could run five miles at a sprint. Much as Logan wanted to keep things PG in the tent, he hoped they rubbed off together at the end. Didn’t matter if it was an unspoken thing like the night before or a more
together
experience with them whispering encouragement to each other, because otherwise there would be no way in hell Logan would be able to sleep.

He tried not to look when Henri hurried out of his clothes and into his flannel pajamas, but he couldn’t miss Henri’s long back and the thick hair on his thighs. Logan turned around to change before Henri could catch him watching.

“You want to try to stream something tonight?” Henri came over, both his body language and his gaze more guarded than they’d been before. Maybe Logan had read this whole thing wrong. “If everyone else heads back to the campfire after they swim, we might get the chance.” He dragged on a sweater, rubbing his arms. “Or maybe they’ll all have hypothermia and fall asleep.”

“Sure.” Logan hid his disappointment. “Sounds fun.”

A few minutes later they climbed into the tent. Maybe it was Logan’s imagination, but now that they were in the dark again, Henri seemed to brush against him an awful lot as he adjusted his sleeping bag in the tent.

The drums and men’s chatter in the distance sounded tribal, primitive. They spurred Logan on. He should be doing something, he knew this. His palms itched to grab, and his blood pumped like lightning through his veins. If only he could figure out what in the fuck he was supposed to do.

“You really want me to keep this here?” Henri dug in the suitcase that separated their sleep pads. Shadows hid his expression.

“No.” Logan cleared his throat, his voice hoarse with an equal mixture of fear and lust.

Henri must have felt it too, that energy buzzing between them. Logan couldn’t be imagining the way Henri’s pale billows of breath were slow and rhythmic, or the way Henri kept leaning toward him before pulling away.

“Okay. Then I’ll put it down by my feet.” He picked up the bag and twisted, getting on his hands and knees directly in front of Logan. It was all too easy for Logan to imagine lying across his back to kiss his neck.

As if he heard Logan’s thoughts, Henri stilled. There was a long, limitless minute while Logan wondered if Henri was waiting for him to do something, maybe crawl over him and do exactly what he was thinking about. Or maybe Henri was gearing up to tell Logan he needed to find somewhere else to sleep.

Henri backed up a few inches, so his heels almost touched Logan’s knees. Logan didn’t move. Mind gone blank, he held his ground while Henri slowly lifted up to kneeling. Henri’s back was to Logan’s front, only a foot away.

“Logan?” Henri’s voice was more tentative than anything Logan had heard him say so far.

“Yeah?” He would have done anything Henri said right then—slept on the ground, sucked him off, made love to him. Logan would have spread and let Henri fuck him, if that’s what Henri wanted.

“If you want…” Henri’s words were little more than a breath but still loud in the silence of their tent.

“Yeah?” Logan rasped, unable to think about anything but the tension in Henri’s shoulders and the way Henri smelled.

“Just don’t kiss me, okay? Not on the lips.”

Love doesn’t come with a syllabus.

Love Lessons

© 2013 Heidi Cullinan

Kelly Davidson has waited what seems like forever to graduate high school and get out of his small-minded, small town. But when he arrives at Hope University, he quickly realizes finding his Prince Charming isn’t so easy. Everyone here is already out. In fact, Kelly could be the only virgin on campus.

Worst of all, he’s landed the charming, handsome, gay campus Casanova as a roommate, whose bed might as well be equipped with a revolving door.

Walter Lucas doesn’t believe in storybook love. Everyone is better off having as much fun as possible with as many people as possible…except his shy, sad little sack of a roommate is seriously screwing up his world view.

As Walter sets out to lure Kelly out of his shell, staying just friends is harder than he anticipated. He discovers love is a crash course in determination. To make the grade, he’ll have to finally show up for class…and overcome his own private fear that love was never meant to last.

Warning: This story contains lingering glances, milder than usual sexual content for this author, and a steamy dance-floor kiss. Story has no dairy or egg content, but may contain almonds.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Love Lessons:

Walter filled a glass and handed it to Kelly. “Drink this and stop looking so nervous.”

“It’s just weird. We’re the only guys here.”

“Oh, more will show up. Trust me. Not our kind, though.” He linked Kelly’s arm through his. “Let’s go find the music. I like dancing with lesbians.”

Kelly thought at first that was either a joke or a euphemism for something, but it turned out Walter meant that comment literally. No sooner did he have Kelly set up with a trio of not-that-drunk (and not making out, thank God) girls on a sofa, he disappeared into the middle of the room, where he began dancing with an abandon Kelly hadn’t ever seen him exhibit, not at Moe’s, not anywhere. Kelly watched Walter move, transfixed.

“He’s so cute.” The girl next to Kelly—Tricia, Kelly thought her name was—leaned her head on Kelly’s shoulder and smiled as Walter shimmied behind a laughing girl who moved in sync with him. “Except he’s gay, dammit.”

“And you’re a lesbian,” the girl on her other side said, and they all laughed.

Kelly felt dazed. God, Walter just…
moved
. For a long time Walter danced and Kelly watched him, sometimes talking to the girls who sat next to him—they kept getting up and new ones sat in their places—and then after about a half hour, as a song ended, Walter came over, sweat-soaked, and collapsed next to Kelly.

“Shit.” He laughed, relaxed and happy, and he glanced at Kelly’s glass. “You need another?”

Kelly peered into his cup. It was empty. Huh. That would explain why he felt buzzy.

Walter popped back to his feet with a wink. “Be right back,” he said, and he was, with a new glass for Kelly and another bottle of water for himself. He was about to sit down when a girl grabbed him and hauled him back onto the floor.

Kelly had half a minute to observe them, that odd feeling of longing stirring in him again, and then someone grabbed
his
arm too.

He danced stiffly at first, but soon the wine and the gentle teasing of his partner relaxed him, and he began to loosen up. It
was
fun to dance with a bunch of lesbians or nearly lesbians, because yeah, nobody gave a shit about what he looked like or how badly he danced. Even when a girl with shock-red hair plastered herself tight against him, her tits mashed to his chest and his—limp—cock squashed along her thigh, it was so clear neither of them were turned on
at all
, and as such they could both let go and act like total sluts. Laughing, he tossed up his hands and danced. Someone handed him another drink, this one smelling tart and intense, but he drank it anyway.

He was having
fun
. So much fucking
fun
.

When he heard the familiar thumping beats of “Wild Ones” begin to play—they’d finally picked his iPod, apparently—he gave a hearty
woot
and threw himself into his boogie with an abandon he didn’t know he had in him. Somehow he’d become the center of a circle—he could see the straight boys now, mingled in amidst the girls, all of them looking slightly lost and out of place, and it was funny so he laughed. Hands slid down his arms, making him shiver, and as someone pressed against his back, he caught the familiar scent of cologne.

Walter’s thumb brushed Kelly’s wrist. “You’re having a good time.”

“Yeah.” Kelly tried to smile over his shoulder, but Walter’s hand skimmed his hip, and he jerked, glad Walter couldn’t feel the sudden erection that sprang up at the contact.

Walter gripped Kelly’s hip more firmly, holding him in place. “Hey—it’s just me, goofball. What, you can’t dance with me the way you were dancing with Sally?”

No, Kelly couldn’t. Except as Sia’s voice boomed out over the room and Walter led him into a sway, Kelly started to wonder if maybe he could.
It’s just dancing,
he told himself. Because the truth was, he did want to dance with his roommate. He wanted Walter to dance with him the way he’d been dancing with the girls, and Kelly wanted to let go enough to be the way he’d been with his own partners. He wanted to be able to feel that relaxed with Walter.

He couldn’t do that, though, because then Walter would know. Hell, he’d feel, because even
this
subtle contact had Kelly hard as a rock.

“Hush.” Walter’s lips grazed his ear, making Kelly shiver. That made Walter laugh, though not unkindly. “Is that it? You’re being self-conscious because I’m turning you on?” When Kelly said nothing, Walter snorted and pulled Kelly against his body.

Kelly shuddered.
Hard
—Walter was as hard as Kelly was. “Walter,” he croaked, his entire body turning to jelly. Except his screaming dick.

Walter kept them moving, his touches gentling, soothing, even as they kept in time to the beat. “Babe, it’s fine. We’re both guys. We both like guys. We’re both hot, so we get turned on by each other. Big deal. You don’t have to be embarrassed about it.”

He turned Walter on? He was a hot guy? Kelly angled his head around, needing to see Walter’s face.

Walter looped his arms around Kelly’s neck and shook his head. “Oh, Red. You’re precious, you know that?”

No, Kelly didn’t. “You confuse me,” he confessed, because he’d had too much to drink.

Walter laughed, but it wasn’t a mean laugh, not at all. “
You
confuse you, Red. Turn your head off for ten minutes and dance with me. I don’t care if you come in your pants. Just let go for ten fucking minutes.”

Kelly’s whole body felt hot. “I can’t do that. Not with you.”

“You can’t flirt with me?” Walter gave him a
come on
look. “Red. You can
totally
flirt with me.”

Wait,
what
? Kelly shook his head, trying to clear it.

Walter sighed and began to speak in the tone of someone teaching a child something simple that they’d made complicated. “Walk it through, babe. You’re tipsy. You’re turned on. You’re having a good time, and it feels good to be turned on. You’re at a party full of lesbians, and me. Is there anyone here you’re going to let take you to bed tonight?”

“What?
No
.” It came out so automatically he couldn’t stop it, but rather than be upset, Walter seemed to be waiting patiently for Kelly to figure something out. Kelly frowned, still not getting it.

Walter rolled his eyes, but he laughed too. “Jesus. Red—you can flirt with me, you can do whatever you want, because we’re not sleeping together. So stop worrying about it. Just have a good time.”

The music slipped into the chorus, and Walter dragged Kelly bodily back into the dance. He forgot to be upset or confused or anything else, and within a few bars he was moving in time to the beat with his roommate, brazenly sliding his arms around Walter’s body. He tried to stay loose, to not think about how hot Walter made him, how bad that was.
We’re not going to sleep together
kept ringing in his head, though, annoying him.

The music shifted to Pink’s “Raise Your Glass”, and the room erupted in drunk, enthusiastic people singing and dancing along.

Most of the girls jumped up and down and did some drunken version of headbanging while they belted out the chorus, but Walter kept tight hold of Kelly and pulled him close, alternating between sensual thrusts with his thigh into Kelly’s groin and shimmying them in deep dips that nearly ran them into their neighbors. Kelly could feel Walter’s hard cock against his hip, and he knew Walter could feel his erection too. He could smell Walter’s sweat, could sometimes taste it on his tongue. The wine and whatever else he’d been drinking filled his head, heightening his senses, making him think he could
feel
Walter on his tongue.

Suddenly he wanted to. He really, really wanted to.

Raise your glass,
the room shouted as one, Walter too, his shout reverberating in his chest beneath Kelly’s hands.

Kelly shut his eyes, drew in a sharp breath through his nostrils and buried his face in Walter’s neck.

He thrilled when Walter stilled, and he laughed, the sound rolling in his belly before he opened his lips over the throbbing pulse and sucked. Walter gasped, his knees wobbling, and his hands tightened against Kelly’s hair and waist.

Running his tongue along Walter’s skin, Kelly felt his cock pulse inside his jeans at the sharp, salty taste of his roommate’s skin.

Walter jerked and tried to pull away.
Fuck no,
Kelly thought, and turned his grip into a vise. He stopped kissing Walter’s neck, but he nipped at his jaw, heady at the thrill of making
Walter
the awkward one for once.

“Stop thinking,” he murmured, and ran his tongue along Walter’s stubble.

“Jesus.” Walter sounded shattered. He turned his head, and for a second their mouths almost brushed together. Walter kept that from happening, pulling Kelly’s head away from his own mouth. “Kelly, don’t.”