When I’m finished, I shower and head back into Jordan’s room. Lying down on the sheets naked, I stroke my cock, thinking about how fucking hot the sex with the redhead was last night, enjoying images of her pussy and the way her face tensed up when she got all excited and screamed out. I imagine her writhing beneath me, clawing at my back.
My muscles tense as my excitement grows, the pressure in my balls becoming intense.
Then I imagine Scott's face—how he looked last night, his face tensed up, his shoulders squared off. My thoughts shift to a scenario where I rush him, throw him up against the wall, and force a kiss.
I want to savor the fantasy, but before I know it, I’m coming. It’s intense. So fucking intense.
My load shoots up my body, dripping across my torso, the warm cum making it to my chin.
I reel in a powerful high that covers my body head to toe.
Despite how good it felt, I have this nagging feeling that my attraction to Scott is going to get me into a lot of trouble.
4
I sit at my laptop working on a design. It’s a hot image of a bodybuilder that I’m transforming into a poster for Paradise Lost, a themed night at my client’s bar. I’ve added some stock photos of foliage with vines hanging down from trees around him. I take my time getting the colors right in each image and cutting them together, attempting to unite the elements as seamlessly as possible.
My family doesn’t approve of me being a graphic designer. Dad wishes I’d use my accounting degree to nab a cushy office job like my brothers or sister rather than wasting it and following my passion. It just makes me dread every family get-together—when I show up and remind them all what a failure the youngest kid is compared to my older siblings with their incredibly lucrative careers in real estate and finance.
But fuck them. I’m twenty-two years old, and I get to decide what I do with my life.
As I check out the model’s body in the photo, I can’t help but compare it to Mikey’s.
When I saw him in the kitchen, I managed to read the tat under his pec:Strength is Within.
Hard to pay attention to it, though, when my eyes kept trying to look at the rest of that fucking gorgeous man-beef, particularly that big-ass dick.
God, I wish that hadn’t been what I’d first seen this morning. What I really hate is that I wish he’d tossed that bowl of cereal into the sink and come at me like an animal, ravaging me. It’s not the most realistic fantasy in the world. That’s not how real life works—at least, outside the world of porn—but it doesn’t keep me from fantasizing about it over and over and over again, the scene running through my head and keeping me constantly hard, which is really fucking inconvenient when I’m trying to get this project done by tonight.
I manage to make some progress, and as I head into the kitchen for lunch, I see Mikey stretched out across the couch in the adjoining living room watching something on TV. He bites into the corner of a blueberry pop tart. A bowl with a bit of milk speckled with rainbow colors sits on the coffee table before him, assuring me he’s had more of my Froot Loops.
I head into the kitchen and start fixing myself a ham and cheese tortilla wrap.
I glance over the bar between the kitchen and the living room and see he’s watching Adventure Time.
I fucking love Adventure Time.
Mikey has his arm stretched out across the arm of the couch, and I’m a little frustrated with him for wearing a shirt.
I don’t get to complain about that, though, since I’m probably the reason he feels like he needs one.
Even as he lies there appearing as chill as ever, I’m annoyed because he doesn’t seem to have a care in the world. I’m always on edge—always stressed about money, work, and family. And here he is, relaxed as can be.
It’s his vacation,I remind myself. Still, judging by his cool demeanor and suave attitude, I don’t imagine he gets stressed about much. He seems like one of those guys who is comfortable in his own skin wherever he goes.
That’s so not me. Never has been. I like who I am, but I definitely am not the kind of guy who can walk into any space and make it my own. I’ve never been that at ease anywhere in my whole goddamned life. Hell, I fucking feel out of place in my own home now that he’s dominating it, claiming it as his own like the fucking alpha he is.
I should head straight to my room, ignore him entirely, and get on with my life.
He’s not going to be here forever.
But I owe it to Jordan—and to Mikey—to make up for being such an ass the past few times we’ve talked. Because as much as I don’t want to admit it, part of what has me so worked up about him is that I’m attracted to him, and I don’t like that he reveals this weakness within me.
I finish making my wrap and pour myself a glass of unsweetened tea before heading into the living room. I’m not good at making conversation with people in general. It’s one of the reasons I wasn’t thrilled when Jordan mentioned the possibility of Mikey staying here, but it’s only for a week.
“You mind if I sit in here with you?” I ask.
“It’s your place.” He doesn’t sound thrilled about it, but it was a stupid question.
