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“For balance,” I clarified, “and that’s a glare from the light.”

“Mhmm.”

I hated him. I loved him. God, I fucking loved him.

Darius stopped talking. He leaned in again. This time, there was no teasing. My fingers dug into his shoulder as his mouth closed around me.

“Oh. Okay. Wowzers…”

That was it. That was the grand contribution of Alvin Carter, professional pain in the ass. Fucking wowzers.

Darius glanced up, and the sight of him looking at me from his knees while his mouth was still occupied sent something hot straight through my stomach.

My head tipped back. “Don’t fucking look at me.”

He pulled away, just long enough to say, “Why?”

“Because I’m trying not to embarrass myself and come in 2.5 seconds, damn it.”

“You? Embarrassed?”

“Yes, me.”

“I didn’t know that was possible.”

“Dee.”

His hand slid around the back of my thigh, steadying me before he went back to what he was doing. And I understood quickly that my imagination had done a piss-poor job of preparing me for reality. The warmth. The pressure. His grip holding me steady as he glided on my dick like a fucking mouth ballerina.

It was heaven. And it was hell—the little pauses, specifically, whenever my breathing changed. Like he was paying attention to every sound I made. He knew me and followed the directions I couldn’t voice, expertly working my cock with his wet mouth. While part of me couldn’t grasp the fact that it was him.

Darius. Dee. My DeeDee. Giving me my first blowie.

I looked down again. His eyes met mine. And I touched his hair before I could think better of it. I wasn’t pushing or directing him. I was just touching him because I needed to. I needed to feel that it was him in this moment.

Darius’s eyes closed for half a second, in a sort of bliss. That tiny reaction nearly finished me completely, and I had to do some serious Kegels to keep from exploding in his mouth.

“Fuck,” I whispered.

His hands tightened around my thigh, that comforting tug something I couldn’t live without now that I knew what it felt like.

“Dee.”

He slowed his bobbing head.

I shook mine immediately. “No. Don’t stop, please.”

He kept going, my other hand immediately slapping against the locker beside me when my knees threatened to give out. The metal rattled loudly through the empty room, but it was no match for the demonic sex cries of victory from my mouth as I combusted inside the love of my life’s mouth.

I was breathing like I’d run five miles when he pulled away slightly and wiped his jaw with the back of his hand, licking his lips and making my dick twitch like it wanted round two.

I stared at him. Dee stared back. Then he asked, utterly serious and sorta comforting, “You okay, Alvy?”

I laughed. It came out shaky and a little wrecked, but that was me. “You’re asking that now? After you sucked my soul out of my pee-pee hole, window boy?”

“Yes.”

“After you just swallowed a gallon of my swimming swimmers, you’re asking me if I’m…” I gestured helplessly between us. Apparently all vocabulary had abandoned me.