Chapter 4: I Was On My Knees When He Walked In

Wes lay back slowly, towel still clinging low on his hips, legs spreading like he was getting comfortable — like this wasn’t the same guy who used to smirk at me across lecture halls and whisper shit with his friends behind his hand.

Now?

His thighs were open for me. Muscles tense. His cock twitching beneath the towel.

And I was on my knees between them.

I kissed the inside of his thigh — slow, soft, teasing — right where the skin was warm and smooth and vulnerable. I heard him exhale, shaky, like he didn’t trust himself to speak. My lips brushed higher, and I felt his cock jerk against the fabric.

“Fuck,” Wes muttered, one hand sliding over his abs. The other dropped to the bed beside him. “That mouth is dangerous.”

I smirked, letting my hands roam up his thighs, then across his hips, palms warm against his skin. I ran them slowly up his chest, feeling his pecs twitch under my touch, brushing lightly over his nipples.

Wes’s breath caught.

His eyes locked on mine. And then — that grin. Crooked, teasing, familiar.

“You’re really down there trying to suck my dick, huh?” Wes said, breath hitching, eyes dark with disbelief. “After all those years ... now you’re just down there, eating it up.”

His voice was half-mocking, but there was something else under it — something breathless. Like even he couldn’t believe what was happening.

I glanced up at him, letting my fingers graze the edge of the towel draped dangerously low over his hips.

“Mm,” I murmured, voice lazy. “To be fair ... you were the one gagging on me earlier.”

Wes blinked.

Then — he laughed. One short, stunned burst. Like I’d sucker-punched the wind out of him. He ran a hand over his face, head tipping back on the pillow.

“Touché,” he muttered, smirking at the ceiling. “Fuck.”

His eyes cut back to mine, sharp again.

“Looks like I was right in college after all.”

I narrowed my eyes, lips quirking. “Oh yeah?”

He raised a brow, smug. “You did wanna suck my dick.”

I huffed out a laugh, low and dirty. “Please. If anything, you wanted to make me.”

Wes shrugged, cock twitching beneath the towel.

“Same difference.”

My fingers slipped under the fabric, tracing the line of his V slowly. I leaned up, dragging my lips across the skin just above the towel’s edge.

“God, you’re such a cocky asshole,” I whispered.

“And you’re still on your knees,” he shot back, breath catching as I pressed a soft kiss to the inside of his thigh.

I didn’t answer. Just slid my hand higher, letting my palm smooth up his chest — across the flat muscle of his pec, over his nipple. He shivered.

“You’ve been working out more,” I murmured, almost to myself.

“I was always jacked,” he said, but his voice was shakier now.

“Not like this.”

Wes’s abs twitched under my fingers. I dragged my touch back down slowly, brushing along his side, feeling the heat rolling off him. My mouth followed — kissing his stomach, nuzzling softly against the skin just beside his cock, still trapped under the towel.