Project X

Shock coursed through me, memories of the thoughts and feelings I’d suppressed, the way I’d felt every time I was near him—and all the time he knew. No wonder he’d had that smug look on his face. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it, that someone could see the innermost workings of my mind, the hidden secrets.

“Please, Matthew. I don’t—I don’t…pry. I don’t deliberately search for secrets. I can’t help it. I can't control it. It just…happens.”

He seemed so lost, so sad. Another shocking realisation hit me—he could see how I was feeling. Right now. The anger, the shame, the bitterness—he could see it all. What should I do? Try to hide it? Try to suppress it? Force myself to think of other things?

“That doesn’t work.”

“What?”

“Trying to hide your feelings just makes them…darker. It hurts when you do that.”

“Hurts?”

“It makes me feel like you’re hiding from me. That you’re…I don’t know. It’s hard enough being a freak without knowing your friends are scared of you, embarrassed by you, wary of you.”

“I’m none of those things.”

“I know.” He said it flatly, but suddenly I started laughing. It was so funny.

Morgan’s eyes widened with shock. The laughter had come from nowhere, and it surprised both of us. Slowly a smile spread over his face and soon we were both helpless.

After a while, Morgan collapsed at my side, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. He turned on his side and stared into my eyes, brushing strands of hair out of my face. My hair was a lot shorter than his, but still long enough to get into my eyes. He ran the back of his fingers over the side of my face, and I shivered to my core. I couldn’t take my attention off his face, which was suddenly serious and intense again.

“Matthew.”

I didn’t need to be able to read his mind to know what he was thinking. I opened myself completely, so he’d have no trouble seeing what I was thinking. Essentially, I was screaming yes on all levels. Morgan’s eyes widened.

“Are you sure?”

“What do you think? You’re the mind reader.”

“It’s not…it’s fading.” Suddenly the intensity disappeared from his face, to be replaced with something else. Sadness?

I ran my fingers through his hair, stroking his face at the same time. “Don’t. Not now. This isn’t the time for sadness. Later. We’ll talk later, okay?”

He smiled thinly and nodded. Oh gods, he was so beautiful. I had to touch him. I had to…I had to…

Pushing him backward, I slid forward until I was lying half on top of him, and took possession of those sweet, sweet lips. For a moment, he was taken aback, but only for a moment. This time I wasn't just reacting, I was making the play. Gods, I was actually…I was…oh fuck. Oh fuck.

Somehow, my hands had found their way under his pyjama jacket, and all the buttons had popped, leaving his chest bare. While I was covering one side of it with my body, the other was open to me; so soft, so muscular, so…

Morgan moaned as my fingers roamed over his skin and found his nipple. A deep shudder went through him, and I pinched harder. He raised himself off the bed, arching his back, and actually lifted my whole body. Gods, he was strong.

Rolling over, so he was on top of me again, Morgan broke the kiss, and for a moment I actually panicked, until I realised he was frantically scrabbling to remove his jacket altogether. I froze, and so did he. He was kneeling over me now, bare to the waist, his hair like a cloak of shadow over his shoulders, his eyes glittering like chips of emerald. I was awestruck. I couldn’t move. I could barely breathe.

Smiling in a slow, sexy way, Morgan reached down and tugged my shirt out of my jeans. I shivered as he pulled it upward, shifting my position slightly so he could get it over my head. Then it was gone, and Morgan was running his hands over my bare skin. I closed my eyes, overcome with sensation.

Slowly, so slowly, he repositioned himself, so he was kneeling between my legs. Then he lowered himself, so he was lying fully on top of me. We were roughly the same height, so our hips fitted closely together. Surprisingly, that was the first time it hit home we were both sporting monster erections because suddenly they were getting up close and friendly with each other, and it scared the shit out of me.

Shit! I’m making out with a man! Shit! We’re on his bed and both half-naked! Shit! He was moving his hips in a way that suggested not only did he know exactly what he was doing, but he’d done it before…a lot! Shit! It was Morgan. It was Morgan Bentley. Out of all the men I could possibly have imagined I’d have my first gay experience with. Out of all the men in the world. Out of all the people in the world. I would never…I would never…I…never…I…

“Oh, fuck.”