leather jacket, the undergrad dropped his motorcycle
helmet. It sounded like a metal bouncy ball.
Cam kissed those full lips hard. He shoved his tongue
in Evan’s mouth and took steps forward—rush, rush,
rush—until he had Evan pinned against a filing cabinet.
Cam’s hands were everywhere, shoving at the leather
jacket and pulling at thin hips. Evan felt like a long, tall
slab of sun-dappled rock, nothing but muscle and sinew
and warm skin. Evan’s hands clung to the office
equipment behind him, but he huffed and puffed into
Cam’s mouth and cooked up desperate groans from the
back of his throat.
Only when Cam’s big hand pushed roughly against
Evan’s crotch did the younger man suddenly pull away and
say, “Stop.”
Cam stood back. Evan looked like he’d been through a
tornado. “What is it? You’re gay, aren’t you?”
His light eyes lingered on the floor. “I think so.”
“You think so?”
“I’ve never…” He paused. “I’ve never been with
anyone before.”
“You’re a virgin?”
Evan, face red from arousal, turned an even deeper
shade.
Cam blew out a loud breath of air. “Oh, for fuck’s
sake.”
***
They laughed at him at Big Boy that night—laughed hard.
“He’s a virgin?” Rose choked on her coffee.
“Only you would find the last homosexual virgin in the
world,” Eddie said.
Although it was nice to see sour-faced Eddie smile,
Cam was not amused. He pointed to his own face. “This is
what shattered dreams look like.”
Rose guffawed.