“At least he didn’t call me fat.”
“Fuck that. You’re perfect.” I rested my chin in my hand and stared at Arden laid out beside me, relaxed except for the bulge straining against his tight pants. I was feeling it too. “So, where does that leave us?”
“I don’t know. I need something simple. My life’s too complicated already.”
Something simple. No judgment and no expectations.
“I like spending time with you.” I said it softly because I sensed that he was poised to run. “Do you like spending time with me?”
“I went to that awful dinner party, didn’t I?” he said with a rueful smile.
“I made the fish special for you. Liam’s probably still smelling it.”
“The food was good, Bitzy seemed nice, and Franco was kind to explain investing options to me. He’d probably be shocked to know most of my income isn’t taxable.”
I let that last bit go unaddressed. It was a careful dance we were embarking upon, and I was willing to do my part.
“He’s good at making money from money, especially when it comes to other people’s fortunes.”
“Your friends—you too—seem to really have it together.”
“Most of us have trust funds, given to us by our families. We did nothing to earn them. And we know how to keep up appearances.”
“Well, it’s good for me to surround myself with people like you. I need to think beyond today. Thrive, not just survive.”
I wondered if that was something else his therapist had told him.
“Franco would be happy to go over your finances with you, whatever you’re willing to share.”
“I’ll think about it.”
We lapsed into silence. His eyes roamed over my body, and a naughty smile lit up his face when he saw my tented pants. “I have some porn we can watch,” he said lowly, like it was a delicious secret.
“I like porn.”
Arden went out to the other room, his gait a little awkward due to his hard-on, and returned with his laptop. I propped myself up against some pillows and idly massaged my erection through my fly.
“Friends watch porn together,” he said as if he needed an excuse.
“Sure, they do.”
“I guess it’s not a lie if we both believe it,” he said, but I was having trouble being philosophical. I could use my brain or my cock but not both at the same time.
Arden set up the laptop and pulled up a clip of a threesome—two burly mascs with a slutty twink between them. It was some kind of house call—plumbers or cable guys. The twink’s boyfriend was at work, and these two were going to “fix ‘em right up.” (More like destroy his ass.) The twink was pretending to be afraid in that breathy, roleplay way.
Had Arden ever been afraid?
“You should take off your pants,” I said. I’d rather look at Arden than the porn. “And your underwear. Not the sweater though.”
“Keep the sweater?” he asked with a grin.
“Yeah. I like it on you.”It’s pretty, I almost said, but I didn’t want to emasculate him or focus too much on his looks.
Arden slid out of his pants and underwear while my own hand crawled into my open slacks. I stroked my cock while Arden undressed. He had long, muscled legs lightly dusted in fine, blond hair and a broad chest. Slim despite his frame. Maybe even a little underweight, judging by the prominent knobs of his hip bones. I was about to ask him if he’d been a swimmer when he turned to me.
“Ever had a threesome?” he asked, directing my gaze back toward the screen.
“No.” My experiences with my sexual partners had been fairly tame with the occasional bout of exhibitionism when we couldn’t get to a private place quick enough. I hadn’t even come out to my family until my second year of college.
