Free Trust the Focus by Megan Erickson Page B

like he’d disappear in the next instant, but my legs were shaking and my arms were twitching because this was it. We’d crested that hill, but we were still falling. I didn’t know yet what waited for us at the bottom.
    There were breaths and limbs and heartbeats but I didn’t know whose was whose. My fingers threaded in his curls. Someone’s breath hitched and someone’s lips touched an ear.
    “I’m sorry,” I whispered, fingers curling into his scalp. There were so many reasons to apologize, I didn’t know where to start.
    “Jus.” His voice was breathless. “What . . . what’s going on?”
    My brain fuzzed but I managed to get some words out. “I’m doing what I’ve wanted to do for years.”
    “I don’t understand—”
    I pulled back and grabbed his face in my hands. “I’m gay, Landry. I’m fucking gay.”
    His eyes flickered, like my breath fanned the flames in his eyes and then the blue shone brighter. “Is this really happening?”
    I nodded.
    His eyes shuttered and a tremor ran through his body. “We need to get inside the RV. Now.”
    And then I felt his hardness, right against mine where it pressed painfully against the zipper of my shorts. Evidence that I wasn’t the only one feeling this moment, that maybe that incident back at the water park wasn’t a fluke.
Landry wants me.
My head spun because the feel of him, his smell and his heat, were a drug. I reached to the side with one hand, opened the RV door, and somehow stumbled with him in my arms up the two steps and pulled the door closed behind us.
    Then my feet weren’t touching the ground and I didn’t realize I was falling until I thudded on top of him on the bed and our lips collided.
    His firm muscles rippled under my palms and his stubble rasped along mine. Then his mouth opened and I didn’t know if my tongue was in his mouth or his was in mine, because it was just one big tangle of need. All of me knew I was kissing a guy, and years of ache inside me screamed
this is right.
This was who I was—a guy soaking up the warmth of another guy. But not just any guy—Landry.
    All those fantasies, those feelings I’d harbored deep down inside, had been 100 percent right. Kissing Landry, touching him, my fingers on his skin, was everything I should have felt like the way my teammates talked about feeling when touching a girl.
    I didn’t know how long the kiss lasted, how long I sucked on the essence of Landry until I felt him in my blood. We touched foreheads, breathing into each other’s mouths, the air charged around us. I licked my lips, tasting him. “What about Jud—”
    “We broke up.” Landry growled and palmed the back of my head, shoving my lips back onto his. And I didn’t question his words or think about it too hard. Because this kiss was testosterone and power and desire and all I could do was battle him back with my own lust.
    Landry planted a foot on the bed, rolling both of us so I lay on my back under him. He loomed over me, curls brushing his forehead and blue eyes glowing in the moonlight, filtering into our moment. Then he ripped his shirt off and helped me out of mine. I took in the expanse of his chest, the breadth of his shoulders, his round, flat nipples as those hands that could expertly flip a pancake and sketch a bird in flight popped the button on my shorts and lowered the zipper. He was still my Landry, but this was a new version. Full of intensity and concentration, all of it focused on
me
.
    He stared at the triangle of red boxer brief behind my zipper, then looked in my eyes, a silent question in his pleading blues. I nodded, telling myself I was in control, but I knew I wasn’t. He hooked his finger in the elastic and pulled it down to release my straining cock. Then Landry’s shorts were open, his own cock hard and pointing at me. I’d never seen him hard. He was beautiful.
    Landry licked his lips and I grabbed him by the back of the neck so that he would collapse on top of me. I wanted