Free Scoring by Mia Watts Page B

Ever.”
    Martin’s eyes narrowed on him for a minute before he released Jay’s fingers. “Keep it that way.”
    “I will. She’s not my type anyway.”
    A small smile touched his roommate’s mouth, relaxing the hard line of it and bringing back the sensual Cupid’s bow. “What’s your type?”
    Geez, what did he say to that? “Someone I can hang with,” he muttered, dropping eye contact.
    “Maybe I should put on a wig,” Martin teased.
    The mangy wig thought aside, the idea of Martin standing in as Jay’s someone made his stomach hop inside. He sputtered a laugh to deflect.
    Martin sighed. He left his beer on the countertop and moved so that he had partially circled Jay. Jay, trying to keep the distance, wound up taking a step deeper into the galley. Martin blocked the exit.
    “Are you gonna, or am I?” Martin asked with a little bit of exasperation.
    Martin’s brown hair swept off his forehead when he looked down at Jay. Jay wasn’t sure how he was supposed to answer or what Martin was asking.
    “Sorry about the sister comment. I like Emma. She’s a sweet kid,” Jay said, finally settling on what he should be saying anyway.
    “Glad you think so. And?”
    And? What, and ?
    “And the game is a good one,” Jay offered.
    “And?” Martin drew out the word.
    Jay blinked. Now what? “And you’re right, I was distracted.”
    Martin huffed. “And?”
    “And I was trying to piss you off because I felt like fighting.”
    Now Martin’s mild annoyance turned to amusement. If that full mouth opened on another—
    “And?” Martin pressed.
    “Really? Fuck this. It’s getting old.” Jay shoved his forearm against Martin’s chest to push him out of the way. He’d admitted enough. If Martin wanted a particular and , he’d have to spit it out.
    But Martin didn’t budge, so this time Jay sighed loudly. “What?”
    Martin seemed to make a decision. “And,” he said quietly. “You want to kiss me.”
    Jay barked a laugh. “You’re seriously fucked up.”
    “Sure. That’s why you’re always staring at my mouth.”
    “I’m staring at your mouth because it’s so damn huge. You have girl lips. Hell, you have lips a girl would kill for and plastic surgeons would make millions on recreating. If you had a huge ass, I’d stare at that, too,” Jay rushed, defensively.
    “Right. Guess I’ll have to prove my theories for myself, because waiting for you to come clean is like asking Schwarzenegger to quit cheating.” Martin stepped against Jay, pressing him to the archway of the galley.
    “What are you doing?” Jay asked nervously.
    “What you want me to do.”
    Jay had never given much thought to how sexy it was that Martin had five inches of height on Jay. Nor had he considered how it would make him feel to have Martin lean down those five inches into Jay’s personal space and cautiously press his full, wide mouth to his.
    He’d never make that mistake again. Jay suspected he’d be giving a lot of thought to those specific details well into the night.
    If it was a prank, it was brilliantly played. But the longer Martin held the kiss, the more Jay understood that pranking had nothing to do with this. Not unless Martin’s cock was in on the joke too, because it pressed insistently against Jay’s. That’s when Jay let himself believe, kiss back and tangle his fingers into Martin’s empty belt loops. It was a natural thing to pull once they were there. It was also natural to part his lips and breathe against Martin’s mouth.
    Martin made a small “hnh” sound, slanted his head, and deepened the kiss. God, it changed everything.
    The limited scope of football, guys' night out, chugging back a beer with his bros took on something fearfully richer. Was this kiss permission for a one-time experience or promise of being open to more?
    Martin threaded his fingers through Jay’s hair as he rocked his hips to Jay’s. Kissing suddenly wasn’t enough.
    Jay tore his mouth away. “Bedroom.