When I struck up another round of chicken dancing, he grabbed my shoulders and threw me down onto the couch. Then he pounced, letting me feel his full weight. That feeling always turned me on and now was no exception.
My boyfriend leaned in and kissed me. Just thinking of Zane as my boyfriend so freely felt even more amazing than the taste of his lips. Nothing on earth beat that, and I felt like I’d just scored a two-fer.
His tongue slipped into my mouth and, for a moment, I swore we would soon tear off our clothes and start going at it right then and there. But Zane kept kissing me slowly but greedily, like he wanted to savor every bit of this moment.
The hard-on straining against his pants poked my leg. My own cock felt rock hard and all but cried out for release. My boyfriend’s breathing picked up, and he grunted, which told me he’d sunk deeply into this moment.
Finally, he broke away from the kiss and hauled himself back upright. I sat up, following him, and lunged forth to steal another kiss from the Remington Riptide. This was the most carefree I’d felt about our relationship since… maybe ever. The sex had been steaming hot, but I felt like we’d ascended to a whole new level.
I honestly thought that the three little words I’d said had provided a blessing, a means to quit worrying about the reality that nagged at us. Still, I knew that we would have to worry about those things again, one way or another.
“Okay,” I said, “now that we’ve established that you’re a chicken, do you have anything to say to me?”
“Yeah, fuck off.”
“Is that the thanks I get? I tell you I love you and you tell me to fuck off?”
He rolled his eyes and shook his head, then cast a questioning look at me.
“Got a problem or something?” he asked.
“I’m waiting to hear it.”
“Waiting to hear what?
“Come on, Zane, even you can’t be this much of a dope. I’m waiting for you to say you love me to pieces.”
“You’re gonna wind up in a million little pieces if you’re not careful.”
He shook his fist at me.
“Am I supposed to be scared?”
“Hell yeah.”
“I don’t see why. After all, I know what happened the one time wedidhave a physical altercation.”
“Never gonna let me live that down, huh?”
“Not when I’m having this much fun reminding you about it.”
Zane groaned cartoonishly, threw his hands over his face, and collapsed into the chair adjacent to the couch. He slid down the chair like he might fall off and land in a heap on the floor. I never expected us to develop a real relationship, but then I never would’ve thought I would tell Zane Hirst that I loved him.
Instead of letting the whole thing die, I stared at Zane even though he’d kept his hands over his face. Two fingers parted so he could peek out, and then clammed up the moment he found me staring at him.
Finally, he dropped his hands, looking haggard from the fact that I’d pestered him so persistently.
Here’s the thing: I stared at him like that because I found nothing in the world as fun as driving Zane Hirst nuts.
“You’re really going to make me do this, aren’t you?” he asked.
“Of course I am.”
He tugged at his collar and fidgeted with his hands. Talk about a drama king. You would think the sky would fall if he told me how he really felt.
“What’s the big deal?” I asked. “It’s just three little words.”
“Toyouthey’re just three little words. To me, they’re?—”
