1
Mickey
ONE YEAR AGO…
“Do you like it when I suck your cock?”
A breathy voice practically purrs the words, and I feel myself nod vigorously because I do like that. I like it a lot. But before I can answer in the affirmative, someone else does.
“You know I do,” the voice says. “Jesus. Wrap those pretty lips around my dick and take me deep. I want to feel the back of your throat.”
What the fuck is happening right now? Did I leave my laptop on the floor when I fell asleep? Is Doug, my feline friend, lounging on the keyboard, making biscuits and unknowingly cueing up porn? I mean, it’s hot shit, so I’m not exactly complaining. But I’m a visual guy, so I’d like to see the scene play out, not just hear it. I reach down to feel around for my computer, but when my hand hits the floor, my fingers don’t graze the soft, plush carpet that lines my bedroom. Instead, I feel cold hardwood. And I don’t have to reach far because I’m not sleeping on top of my cushiony mattress. The bed I’m in is lumpy and small. I peel my eyes open and realize I’ve been sleeping on a bean bag chair. And the thing in my hand isn’t my laptop. It’s a headless doll.
Where the fuck am I?
I start to sit up even though the movement makes my head pound, and my surroundings come into view. And the gasps and moans get louder.
Holy fuckballs. Someone is having sex in this room, and it isn’t me.
I blink a few times before my eyes focus on the two figures moving together on the couch. Long blond hair brushes over muscular shoulders and two shapely legs are wrapped around a narrowed waist.
My buddy Van and his girl, Josie, are having sex, and I’ve got a front row seat.
And that’s fine. I mean, it’s their basement. And it’s a damn fine spot for secret sex. I should know because I just had a night of glorious debauchery with the hottest girl on campus. The hottest girl I’ve ever seen. The hottest girl anybody has ever seen.
Vivian McDonald is impossible to miss. Even before my best friend got her best friend pregnant, I knew Viv. Well, I knew of her. Everybody at Bainbridge University does—not only because she’s beautiful, but because she spends her free time standing on the top of a tower of people and launching herself back down to earth in a series of tumbles and flips.
She’s the top girl for the school’s cheer squad, so she flies and bounces around like it’s her natural state. As someone who has as much energy as a dozen kindergarteners at a birthday party, I can appreciate that.
I wonder if she’s hearing this and is as turned on as I am, or maybe she’s still passed out. The berry punch she made for the baby shower yesterday packed quite the punch—huh. Maybe that’s why they call it punch? I reach for my phone to look it up, but I don’t have my phone because it’s probably in the pocket of my jeans, but I’m not wearing jeans. I’m not wearing anything.
I reach for the blanket that’s covering my bendy little goddess but when I tug on it, there’s no resistance at all. She doesn’t smack me or yell at me or tell me to get my face back between her legs, stat—I remember that command verbatim from last night—because she’s not here.
I’m all alone.
Well, I’m not alone at all.
Van and Josie are still going at it on the couch about fifteen feet away, but they don’t see me. And if I turn my head, I can’t see them. And if I cover my face with the blanket, I can’t hear them, either.
Scratch that. Yes, I can. Damn, they’re loud.
I hear a high-pitched moan followed by an intake of breath and the unmistakable sound of a hand smacking an ass. Then I hear a giggle. And another gasp.
I need to get the hell out of here. Live porn is great in theory, but not when it’s two of my closest friends—and especially when they don’t know they’ve got an audience.
But how can I leave? The stairs are all the way on the other side of the room, and there’s no way they won’t spot me if I start my walk of shame here and now. And that will just make things even more awkward for all of us.
But I also can’t stay here at the impromptu peep show.
“Shh, Jos,” Van says. “You gotta stay quiet. You’re going to wake everybody up, and then I won’t be able to finish what I started.”
The volume decreases, but not by much. In desperation, I grab two stuffed animals off the floor and make a DIY version of noise-canceling headphones before wrapping the blanket around my body and over my head.
Forcing my eyes closed, I beg sleep to claim me for a few more hours, or at least until everyone else in the room is fully clothed.
My prayers must have been answered, because the next time I open my eyes, the room is much quieter. There’s no moaning or screaming in ecstasy. The only sound I hear is the steady rhythm of feet hitting a treadmill. I look over to see Josie’s brother Zane getting his workout in. He’s a freshman in high school, but he’s also a fellow hockey player, so I offer him a wave as I yawn and stretch.
“Dude, did you sleep down here all night?” he asks, pulling his earbuds out.
