Unless (LGBTQ+ BxB Completed Novel)

4: Paper crown.

"I knew you would show up." Wet curls dangle across my face as my eyes fly open. He's on top of me and everything is beating at a thousand miles an hour—from the rain slapping the pavement outside to my poor, erratic heart.

With a smile teasing his plump lips, he thrusts out a delicate hand and clasps both my wrists over my head. Heat slaps my cheeks as I notice my growing erection. My breathing hitches as he dips his head as if he's about to kiss me. A scent of mint and musk washes over me, and I'm reeling.

"You did?" My voice comes in heaves.

"Noah. I've been waiting for you." His scorching eyes engulf me, blurring my thoughts and heightening my senses. My heart pounds in my ears as he nips at one lobe. My voice grabs at my throat, surfacing as wanting moans.

Can he hear how he affects me? Can he tell my mind is turning to mush?

Hands of mine... Why the urge to launch yourselves forward, seeking shelter right in the middle of this boy's chest? Where is this profound connection coming from? He is here, right in front of me, and I am here but also a million miles away from the constellation that is this intoxicating stranger.

I am at a loss to what to say next or how to even breathe. Thank heavens for involuntary processes taking over.

If words were enough to paint how scary this moment is, then perhaps some would dare come to my mouth. Seconds go by, I am so ashamed I've become paper thin. But then, he smiles again, and it makes me explode into atoms, puts me back together and returns the new shape of me back to earth.

Seconds later, his lips find mine with eagerness and pure lust. I'm combusting, my breathing hot and heavy, my mouth needy and yearning for more than just this kiss. His hands travel all the way down my torso, reaching my hip bones where he lingers his touch, making me so fucking aroused; I can't focus on anything other than his warmth against my skin. I let out a soft groan in total ecstasy as he nibbles on my collarbones, first the right, then the left as his hands unzip my jeans. I am panting; I want him. Badly.

"What is it, Noah?" he asks in a silky whisper, right into my ear.

"I want you," I gasp.

"Good, 'cause I fucking want you too."

Seconds later, I'm falling from my bed, landing hard against the wooden floor of my apartment, disoriented and covered in sweat.

What was that all about? Was I about to make love to a guy? Why am I okay with that suddenly? But truth be told, I am.

I'm grinning like an idiot as I get up and drag my horny—presumably gay—ass to my bathroom. Once there, I look at myself in the mirror, eyes wild and flustered, my sped up heartbeats echoing the remains of a fading face with soft lips and azure eyes. He is haunting me in my dreams now; he has haunted me for the past three days; I need to know more about this whole unsolved mystery, or I'll blow a fuse.

I'm craving my caffeine buzz to be functional, and as I'm fixing myself breakfast, I check on my cell. Shit. Two messages from Candace. Of course she would send me messages, what was I expecting? For her to give up and never want to see me again? We've dated for the past year and a half—on and off, but still. I could never feel—what's the word?

Nothing, there is no word, because I've felt almost nothing. I should have known better than to make promises I couldn't keep.

There's always the one that loves more, wants more, needs more in every relationship. Here, Candace is the one coming out empty-handed. I've failed at this boyfriend business, I've given her nothing in return. Maybe I'm just that, King of Nothing.