Chapter 9
Matt
Ispent all night dreamingof Renee Lyon, and by the time my alarm went off, I was hard as fuck for her. My dick strained painfully against the inside of my boxers as I went to the shower, cranking the stream on high before dropping my pants and stepping in, relief flooding through my body as steamy water hit my skin.
Fuck. I couldn’t get Renee out of my head. It had been a long time since I’d seen her, but I would be fucking lying if I said I hadn’t thought about her nearly every day since the night she’d punched me in the face and broken my nose. God, I never would have imagined she had that in her. It had been really fucking hot.
It didn’t take long to relieve myself of the mental image of Renee. After I lost my hard-on, I stepped out of the shower, wrapped a towel around my midsection, and stepped onto the carpeted floor of the three-bedroom apartment I shared with Jake and Aaron. Someone yawned from the other room, and I pulled on my jeans and shirt before heading out into the kitchen.
“Dude,” called Jake from near the refrigerator. “We’re going to be late to the fucking class. Get it,fuckingclass?”
Pouring a cup of coffee, Aaron cocked his head. “Stop calling it that. You’re so fucking dumb.”
“What else am I going to call it?”
Aaron took a sip of his coffee. “Call it what it is: Psychology of Sex and Intimate Relationships.”
Unlike Aaron, a cup of coffee wasn’t going to cut it for me today—too much tossing and turning last night. I couldn’t get any restful sleep because Renee Lyon had haunted me all night, filling my thoughts, my memories.
Fuck Renee Lyon. This morning’s hard-on had her name written all over it.
I opened the fridge and grabbed a can of Monster. Snapping the tab, I downed three-quarters of the can within seconds and then reached into the fridge again for an extra. Once I had that secure, I poured a black coffee tumbler and added a whiskey shot. Neither of my friends paid any attention. Even in high school, we’d all done it a time or two.
“Whatever it's called, I am pumped,” Jake said with a smirk. “Sex is right in the name of the class. Now that’s what I call an elective.”
“I don’t think this class will be as fun as you think,” Aaron said. “Have you read the curriculum? It sounds pretty hardcore.”
Jake snickered. “Hardcore. Of course, it was going to behardcore.” He nudged Aaron, who shot him a look of distaste.
“You’re a lunatic,” he said, running a hand through his shaggy dark brown hair. When his brows were crinkled, so were the piercing at the corner of his eye. “I don't know how you get laid at all, ever. Seriously.”
“ Because I have a big dick,” Jake said. “You know this, Bryce. You’ve fucking seen in.”
“And probably dreamed of it,” I added, to which Aaron raised both hands and flipped us the bird.
“You’re both just psychos who think treating a woman like shit is the way to get them.”
“Is it not accurate?” I asked, glancing at Jake, who shrugged before grabbing himself by the junk and hip thrusting into the air.
“That’s been the fucking case for me. Sorry, Aaron, only lesbians like gay guys.”
“One, I am not gay, and two, I don’t think that’s accurate.” Aaron rolled his eyes at Jake and looked at me as I chugged my energy drink's last sugary, green liquid and slammed it down on the counter. My neurons jolted with the final gulp, and I dragged my sleeve across my mouth. I’d definitely need liquor and a second can to get through this conversation. I let out a belch.
“The class syllabus, I read it. Case studies, a mid-term paper, and a final paper worth half our grade. I fucking hated writing. I don’t know why I agreed to take this class with you assholes.”
Jake scowled. “Dude, we’ll be writing aboutfucking. Porno-shit. It sounded better than fucking yoga.”
“Think about that for a moment,” Aaron said, eyes narrowing on Jake. “You thought a sexual psychology class would be more fun for us than sitting around watching women stretch in fucking tight leggings?”
I laughed. After a second of realization, Jake scowled.
“Fuck you, man.”
Aaron shook his head. “Relationship is also in the title of the class. So is psychology, which probably means we’ll have to do a lot of research.”
“Maybeyouneed to do research, but I don’t. I’ve got a lot of experience on the topic of a good fucking,” Jake said with a wink, finally dropping the crotch of his dick. Ever the grown-up, our brother Jake.
