Sebastian narrows his eyes, tilting his head a little to the left. “Not in this lifetime. Why would you think that?”
I shrug. “People like sex.”
“Some people don’t. That doesn’t make them less. Does it make you feel less because you don’t want to?”
“I—” I don’t know. “Not all the time? I like everything that Ken and I do together. I jerked him off the other day, and it was… good. Really fucking good.”
“I’m not really seeing the problem here.”
“He gets upset when we do things, and I don’t”—I gesture at my lap, desperately trying to ignore the way my cheeks are on fire—“get it up.”
Sebastian taps his fingers on the table and then empties the rest of his glass. Taking his time because he’s trying to work out how to give me the bad news gently, or something else? “Does he actually get upset, or doyouthink he’s upset?”
Uh. I sift through memories, trying to recall the exact words. I can’t… pinpoint anywhere Kendrick’s noticeably upset at me. Is Sebastian right? Am I looking at this through the wrong lens? No. I can’t be. “He can’t possibly be satisfied with the status quo.”
Sebastian takes a sip of his drink. “Did he get off?”
“Yes?” What does that have to do with anything?
“Then I’m sure he was satisfied,” Sebastian says with a cocky grin. “It’s not a conclusion generally reached if the guy isn’t having a good time.”
“I need him to want me.” I can’t live without him needing me. Without him looking for me first when he walks into a room. I need his heartbeat to match mine. When I die, I want him to die too. We have to go at the same time. There’s no me without him, no him without me.
“Him wanting you isn’t the problem, Spencer. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. He’ll never leave you, not even if you tell him to. Not even if you tried to run to the other side of the world.”
The words shouldn’t please me, but fucking hell, they do. So goddamn much. The fear still spreads through me, like the reassurance isn’t enough. “You have a lot of sex, right? With four boyfriends, that has to be—you have sex, yeah?”
Sebastian leans forward, resting his elbows on the table, looking like he isn’t sure whether he wants to answer or not. Then he says, “Yes, we do. Frequently, in fact. If that helps whatever data you’re trying to compile.” He waves his hand, a light flush on his face.
“How does it work?”
“How does what work?” Sebastian asks with a frown.
“The—sex, with a man.”
Sebastian licks his lips and contemplates the questions, eyebrows drawing in. “I’m not really sure what you’re asking. If you’re looking for step-by-step instructions, I can probably write something down. Anal with a male is the same as with a female, though. Well, except for the fact that we have a prostate, but the prep and act are the same.”
I stare at him blankly. He studies me like I’m some kind of bug. Or an alien. My head is nowhere near big enough to be an extratrest—estratext—estra—alien.
“Spence, have you everhadanal?”
Why does that matter? “No. So what?” I ask defensively.
“You’ve had sex, though?”
He doesn’t need to say it like that. Like being a virgin is some kind of curse that needs to be broken. “Yes.”
“How many times?”
“What does that have to do with anything?” It’s irrelevant. It doesn’t matter. He’s all that matters now. He’s all that’severmattered.
“Ballpark number, Spence.”
“Like… three, maybe? Two? I don’t know.” Probably two, depending on how we’re counting. The “third” one was… not good, and neither of us finished. An absolute disaster and my last-ever attempt at sex. She’d made me feel like something was broken. Like the fact she was hot should have been all I needed. Kendrick is the sexiest person on the entire fucking planet, and that doesn’t change just because my dick doesn’t stand at attention for him. The more important parts of me do.
“Not a smorgasbord of experience.”
“I’m sorry, is that not enough bed-hopping for you?” What the fuck? Is there some quota I was supposed to fill? What a load of shit. People aren’t there just to add notches to my bedpost. The only one I want in my bed is Kendrick. What the hell’s so wrong about that?
