Brayden. That would be giving up and letting go and he intends to do neither, even if it kills him or drives him insane.
There’s a soft knock from the other side of the door.
“What do you want?!” he bellows.
“Can I come in?”
Groaning loudly, Jenner takes a moment to compose himself, then stands aside to open the door.
He gestures at the small table, the picture of composure. “Have a seat.”
“Chicken sandwiches. That okay with you?” Max says, holding two plates.
“Whatever.”
With a sidelong glance at her roommate and employer, Max gently sets out their food and interprets the subtle cues he gives off.
“That bad, huh? We’ll be a lot busier later. Less chance for vicious blue balls.”
Jenner stalks to the door and closes it tightly. After thinking about it, he turns the lock before joining her at the table.
“You’re the dumbass that hired him.”
“Thanks for reminding me.”
When he continues to hover, distracted and tense, she says, “Sit. Sit down. Go on. Talk to me about it. You’ll feel better.”
“Talk to you? You want me to talk to you about what’s
bothering me
? Well okay. Let’s talk.” He pulls out a chair and straddles it, directly across from her. “Hmm, where should we begin? Oh. I know. While he’s out there every night giving those women all of his attention, I’m the pathetic shit that can’t stop wondering what kind of sex noises he makes, if he grunts or moans and whether his voice gets a little softer and quivers when he’s coming. I can almost imagine it, and it makes me want to fuck that pretty smile right off his mouth. I want to know that, and hear it for myself. I
need
to know it—and the particular sound he makes when I stuff his hole full of my cock. I want to know that too. I want to wrap that fucking braid of his around my hand and pull on it while I ride him. And sweet Jesus, how
small
he is? How he has to crane his neck to look up at me and how easy it would be to overpower him, to just pick him up and move him, bend his ass over the bar or a table. His little body is just sick and tight and hard. Not too many muscles. He’s not bulky; he’s just sexy as
fuck
. What else? Oh. I stare at his nipples. A lot. While we’re working. While people could
see
. They’re hard quite often—his nipples—like his body hasn’t adjusted to the colder weather. It makes me want to strip him butt naked and drag ice cubes all over his skin to see it pebble. Then I’d warm him back up with my tongue, but I would draw it out for
hours
.”
“You’ve put a lot of thought into this,” Max observes. “Do you usually think about the ways you want to fuck guys with this level of detail?”
Jenner licks his lower lip wet. “No. No, I’m pretty sure it’s just him.”
“Hmm. That’s kinda unhealthy.”
“Mm. Probably.”
“You’re his stalker, Parrish. You’ve become that guy.”
He groans and covers his face with his hands, his elbows braced on the table.
She picks up her sandwich and considers Jenner’s problem. “I know how to fix this,” she says. “We need to get you laid. How long’s it been anyway?”
“Too long,” he grumbles.
“Well, there we go. Problem solved.”
On Thursday night, a table full of his old football buddies is gathered in the back corner. For most of them it’s a guy’s night away from their wives and girlfriends, reliving the glory days while the Eagles and the Steelers play on the flatscreen. Jenner waits on them simply to spare Max the trouble, since he knows the kinds of comments those guys are likely to make about her. He catches a few of them looking at her and waits for the crude remarks that always materialize.
First, though, their conversation revolves around Brayden after they catch a glimpse of his nametag and they put the pieces together. It’s a lot of discussion about how funny it is that just a few years ago, Brayden was shying away from them at school and now it’s his job to serve them
There’s a soft knock from the other side of the door.
“What do you want?!” he bellows.
“Can I come in?”
Groaning loudly, Jenner takes a moment to compose himself, then stands aside to open the door.
He gestures at the small table, the picture of composure. “Have a seat.”
“Chicken sandwiches. That okay with you?” Max says, holding two plates.
“Whatever.”
With a sidelong glance at her roommate and employer, Max gently sets out their food and interprets the subtle cues he gives off.
“That bad, huh? We’ll be a lot busier later. Less chance for vicious blue balls.”
Jenner stalks to the door and closes it tightly. After thinking about it, he turns the lock before joining her at the table.
“You’re the dumbass that hired him.”
“Thanks for reminding me.”
When he continues to hover, distracted and tense, she says, “Sit. Sit down. Go on. Talk to me about it. You’ll feel better.”
“Talk to you? You want me to talk to you about what’s
bothering me
? Well okay. Let’s talk.” He pulls out a chair and straddles it, directly across from her. “Hmm, where should we begin? Oh. I know. While he’s out there every night giving those women all of his attention, I’m the pathetic shit that can’t stop wondering what kind of sex noises he makes, if he grunts or moans and whether his voice gets a little softer and quivers when he’s coming. I can almost imagine it, and it makes me want to fuck that pretty smile right off his mouth. I want to know that, and hear it for myself. I
need
to know it—and the particular sound he makes when I stuff his hole full of my cock. I want to know that too. I want to wrap that fucking braid of his around my hand and pull on it while I ride him. And sweet Jesus, how
small
he is? How he has to crane his neck to look up at me and how easy it would be to overpower him, to just pick him up and move him, bend his ass over the bar or a table. His little body is just sick and tight and hard. Not too many muscles. He’s not bulky; he’s just sexy as
fuck
. What else? Oh. I stare at his nipples. A lot. While we’re working. While people could
see
. They’re hard quite often—his nipples—like his body hasn’t adjusted to the colder weather. It makes me want to strip him butt naked and drag ice cubes all over his skin to see it pebble. Then I’d warm him back up with my tongue, but I would draw it out for
hours
.”
“You’ve put a lot of thought into this,” Max observes. “Do you usually think about the ways you want to fuck guys with this level of detail?”
Jenner licks his lower lip wet. “No. No, I’m pretty sure it’s just him.”
“Hmm. That’s kinda unhealthy.”
“Mm. Probably.”
“You’re his stalker, Parrish. You’ve become that guy.”
He groans and covers his face with his hands, his elbows braced on the table.
She picks up her sandwich and considers Jenner’s problem. “I know how to fix this,” she says. “We need to get you laid. How long’s it been anyway?”
“Too long,” he grumbles.
“Well, there we go. Problem solved.”
On Thursday night, a table full of his old football buddies is gathered in the back corner. For most of them it’s a guy’s night away from their wives and girlfriends, reliving the glory days while the Eagles and the Steelers play on the flatscreen. Jenner waits on them simply to spare Max the trouble, since he knows the kinds of comments those guys are likely to make about her. He catches a few of them looking at her and waits for the crude remarks that always materialize.
First, though, their conversation revolves around Brayden after they catch a glimpse of his nametag and they put the pieces together. It’s a lot of discussion about how funny it is that just a few years ago, Brayden was shying away from them at school and now it’s his job to serve them
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