Perfect Ten (The Off-Season Book 1) by K.M. Neuhold

Author:K.M. Neuhold [Neuhold, K.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2022-02-03T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14

TEN

My heart rages as Bambi follows me into my bedroom. Fuck, which one of us is supposed to be the virgin here? I’ve had dozens of guys in my bedroom, actually, probably fewer than that because having strangers in my bed sounds gross, so we don’t often make it farther than the couch. But the point stands. He’s hardly the first man who has stood just inside the door to my bedroom, casually looking around at the clutter on various surfaces, my unmade bed, my pile of dirty clothes in the corner.

It is the first time I’ve wondered what the man is thinking. Does Bambi like my bedroom? Is he nervous? Does he want to give me a just massage, or was it a line like Lux suggested I use?

Bambi crosses my room and picks up a little surfboard-shaped keychain Trick gave me for my birthday last year and runs his thumb over the smooth surface before setting it down. He touches a few more random items, his exploration of my room feeling strangely intimate.

After a minute or so, he turns back toward me. “You have to take your shirt off.”

His forwardness shocks the hell out of me until I remember that he’s talking about giving me a massage. I step closer to him, dipping down to run my nose along his throat and against his jaw while reaching around him to grab a bottle of massage oil out of my dresser. Bambi’s breath hitches and he sways into me, his reactions to every touch so genuine and fucking addictive.

My cock stiffens and aches as I imagine what it will be like to strip him naked for the first time and kiss every inch of his body until he’s squirming and begging for more. I press a kiss to the sharp angle of his jaw and then force myself to pull back before I push him too far, too fast.

He looks dazed as I put the bottle of oil into his hand and then take another step back, yanking my shirt over my head and tossing it onto the floor. I shove my shorts down next, careful not to tweak my back too much as I kick them off, leaving me standing in nothing but my tight, white briefs.

“Maybe I should take my clothes off too,” Bambi says, his eyes greedily devouring every inch of bare skin I’ve exposed. “You know, so they don’t get all oily.”

“Massage oil is very caustic for clothing,” I agree, barely managing to keep a straight face.

There’s a noticeable tremble in his hands as he grabs the hem of his shirt and tugs it over his head, dropping it next to mine. The bulge in the front of his shorts mirrors mine, straining against the thin material.

But his very obvious and drool-worthy erection isn’t the only thing keeping me staring. I’ve seen Bambi on the beach once or twice, wearing his swim trunks, but I never really stopped and looked before. He’s small, petite even, but he’s not all skin and bones.

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