Yearn by A. Ellis (13 ebook reader TXT) 📕

if he wasn’t there. Swallowing my anger at myself and that damn kiss, determined to ignore the attraction and how badly my body wanted to explore more, I cleared my throat. “What about yours?”

See, I could do this. We’d recently settled into a somewhat comfortable acquaintance and there was no reason we had to take steps backward in that regard. We weren’t friends and we’d never be super tight, but we could at least be somewhat amicable.

“About the same. Definitely some stuff I can share, but not everything was useful.” Dre kicked off his shoes and flopped onto the bed.

I avoided even looking at the bed and sat stiffly in the desk chair and pretended to be interested in my phone. Dre didn’t seem angry or upset—I didn’t get a vibe of tension any more awkward than our usual—so maybe it was just me all up in my feels about that damn kiss.

“What do you want to do for dinner?” Dre asked as he scrolled his phone. “Could go back to the Salty Lizard; their food is definitely good enough for a repeat.” He threw a quick glance my way. “Or we could hit that same street, grab food somewhere else, and go there for a beer?”

My head and body screamed opposite answers at me. Yes, go to dinner with him. Just enjoy the evening and forget the awkwardness. Maybe see if that kiss could turn into something else. No! Tell him to piss off, you’ll get dinner on your own. He can fend for himself.

Not sure that either of the arguments was the best, I shrugged. “That’s fine. You wanna get the Uber?”

Dre gave a quick nod and tapped at his screen. “All set, looks like fifteen minutes. Probably better head out.”

Okay, so we were ignoring the elephant in the room—at least for the time being. I could deal with that. As long as Dre didn’t start the incessant chattering and give me ideas about what I could shove in his mouth to shut him up, I’d be fine.

We ended up at the Mass. Ave. Pub which had one of the best fish sandwiches I’d ever eaten. Dre claimed the burger was top-notch. After snapping and posting a pic, we each had a beer and spent a bit wandering the shops on Massachusetts Avenue before making our way to the Salty Lizard.

We spent a couple hours chatting with Chase, Bode, and Sage while we sampled flights of beer before deciding on our favorites and enjoying frosty mugs. The best part of the whole evening was that we were constantly surrounded by people which left very little room for chit-chat between Dre and me.

But once we climbed from the Uber and headed toward our room, the unspoken knot of tension between us—okay, the newest and most prominent knot of tension between us—was back and took center stage.

The moment the door closed behind me, Dre started in.

“Look, I know you probably don’t want to talk about it, but I really do think we need to just have it out and move past everything,” he said as he turned to face me.

Trapped between him and the door, I immediately bristled. “No. You said your piece, there’s nothing else to talk about.”

“I disagree,” Dre argued.

I huffed. “Of course, you do.”

“I’m under no illusion that we’ll talk and become best friends, I just thought we could maybe find some common ground and not have the animosity and hate hanging over us.”

“Not necessary,” I bit out. Dre was close enough his heat caressed my skin and his scent teased my nose. I needed him to shut up and move away from me before I told the smarter part of me to fuck off and shoved my dick between his lips just to silence him.

“I think it is,” Dre continued and stepped even closer. “I know I was a horrible person way back then, but we’ve both changed a lot and I want a chance to know you as this person—I don’t like that you still only really know me as that fucked up kid.”

“Seriously need you to shut the fuck up and let it go,” I said through gritted teeth.

Dre closed any hint of space between us and pressed a hand against my chest. “Who’s going to make me?”

I snapped. My hand shot to the back of his neck and I fisted his braids, tilting his head back and ghosting my lips over his before I growled in his ear. “I shut you up this morning and I can shut you up now, but I’m thinking it may take more than my tongue in your mouth this time.”

“Show me what you got,” Dre shot back, both hands firmly against my chest.

I snorted, my nose trailing along his jawline. “Careful, I’m not sure you could handle it.”

Dre’s hand dropped to my cock and squeezed. “You want me to stop talking? You’re gonna have to shut me up one way or another.”

With my brain on hiatus and my chest nearly bursting with anticipation, I tugged on Dre’s hair and guided him to his knees. “This means nothing,” I warned as his nose nudged the outline of my cock. With one hand still in his hair, I used the other to open my jeans and pull out my raging hard-on. Yanking on his hair, I tilted his head up and rubbed the head of my cock against his lips. “That damn mouth of yours doesn’t know when to stop.”

“What are you going to do about it?” Dre challenged, a fiery glint in his deep brown eyes.

“Open up and find out,” I demanded.

Dre spread his lips and I fed my long, thick cock into his mouth inch-by-inch. When his lips closed around me and his tongue slid up and down my shaft, I gripped his hair harder and dropped my head back to the wall. Gritting my teeth, I refused to let loose the moan that threatened to tear from me.

As Dre sucked me deep, I set a punishing