Read Online Officer Cain - Part One: Officer in Charge by D. J. Heart, Brett Horne - Free Book Online
Authors: D. J. Heart, Brett Horne
Tags: Erótica, Romance, Literature & Fiction, Gay, Contemporary, BDSM, Short Stories, Gay & Lesbian, gay romance, Genre Fiction, Romantic Erotica, Lgbt, Gay Fiction
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CHAPTER 1
I stared at my phone, scrolling down the list of bare chests and pumped up muscle nervously, sweat beading on my brow. I was browsing Grindr, wondering if I would be able to go through with actually chatting with any of the guys. The whole thing was incredibly intimidating.
I hadn’t put a picture of my own up yet, deciding that I would test the waters as an observer first. Besides, some of the guys on this thing were ripped . How was I supposed to compete with guys who looked like they lived in the gym?
I needed to stop being negative. Sure some of the guys were hotter than me, but a lot of them weren’t . Still, seeing all the different guys had me feeling overwhelmed. How was I supposed to choose who to talk to?
This was stupid. I needed to just bite the bullet and do it. Put my picture up on the app and put myself out there.
Nervously, I uploaded my picture, wondering if I’d get any takers. I might be too chickenshit to initiate contact, but I was still hopeful that someone more experienced and confident might send me a message.
My picture was from the neck down - I wasn’t going to show my face on this thing - and it showed off my trim waist and wide shoulders nicely. I wasn’t built like a gym-bunny, but I had developed a lean swimmers body after four years on the swim team. I looked good, and I was pretty sure that people would be interested. At least I hoped they would be.
I was a senior in high school, and I had turned eighteen just two weeks ago. My boyfriend had broken up with me after a year of keeping our relationship a total secret, saying he couldn’t juggle school, football, his girlfriend and me. The fact that I was the thing he chose to sacrifice felt like a slap in the face. The fact that he did it via text, and then had the audacity to send me a follow up message saying don’t make this weird , almost made me want to out him out of spite.
So there I was: single, eighteen and gay as a doorknob, and I was ready to get out there and have some fun. Or at least I hoped I was.
My phone pinged with an incoming message and my heart leaped nervously. My hands were shaking as I clicked to open the message. It read: R U a top?
I typed back no ... and got nothing in return. I checked out the guy’s profile, but he wasn’t my type at all, so I didn’t feel too bad. I did however go and add the fact that I was a bottom to my description.
I put the phone down and started working on my homework. I had to finish the reading for my AP Bio quiz the next morning, needing at least a B to keep my grade where it was.
My phone pinged every now and then, but each time turned out to be a bust. Some of the guys were way too direct, some of them too old, and the rest were just unsolicited dick-pics. Now I like dicks - I even think dicks are pretty - but if I wanted to see pictures of cock I would Google it.
After a while I started ignoring my phone when it pinged, caught up in my homework. It was a Sunday and I needed to be done in time for class the next day. I heard the doorbell ring, but I assumed that it was for my brother and that he would get it.
My older brother was home from grad school. Since it was the middle of the semester I thought it was weird, but apparently he was doing independent research and could do it anywhere.
I didn’t really mind. I got along much better with my brother now than when we were kids, mostly because he’d stopped being such a raging asshole.
Levi was a total jock, and he’d lived up to all the stereotypes - from playing football and dating a cheerleader to being an obnoxious jerk to anyone he didn’t deem cool . When I had come out of the closet he’d stopped using gay slurs, but I was pretty sure that my mother had been the reason behind that. She was tremendously protective of me and worried constantly about how mean the world could be to people who are different .
As far as I could tell, Levi wasn’t doing any actual research. Mostly he played video
I stared at my phone, scrolling down the list of bare chests and pumped up muscle nervously, sweat beading on my brow. I was browsing Grindr, wondering if I would be able to go through with actually chatting with any of the guys. The whole thing was incredibly intimidating.
I hadn’t put a picture of my own up yet, deciding that I would test the waters as an observer first. Besides, some of the guys on this thing were ripped . How was I supposed to compete with guys who looked like they lived in the gym?
I needed to stop being negative. Sure some of the guys were hotter than me, but a lot of them weren’t . Still, seeing all the different guys had me feeling overwhelmed. How was I supposed to choose who to talk to?
This was stupid. I needed to just bite the bullet and do it. Put my picture up on the app and put myself out there.
Nervously, I uploaded my picture, wondering if I’d get any takers. I might be too chickenshit to initiate contact, but I was still hopeful that someone more experienced and confident might send me a message.
My picture was from the neck down - I wasn’t going to show my face on this thing - and it showed off my trim waist and wide shoulders nicely. I wasn’t built like a gym-bunny, but I had developed a lean swimmers body after four years on the swim team. I looked good, and I was pretty sure that people would be interested. At least I hoped they would be.
I was a senior in high school, and I had turned eighteen just two weeks ago. My boyfriend had broken up with me after a year of keeping our relationship a total secret, saying he couldn’t juggle school, football, his girlfriend and me. The fact that I was the thing he chose to sacrifice felt like a slap in the face. The fact that he did it via text, and then had the audacity to send me a follow up message saying don’t make this weird , almost made me want to out him out of spite.
So there I was: single, eighteen and gay as a doorknob, and I was ready to get out there and have some fun. Or at least I hoped I was.
My phone pinged with an incoming message and my heart leaped nervously. My hands were shaking as I clicked to open the message. It read: R U a top?
I typed back no ... and got nothing in return. I checked out the guy’s profile, but he wasn’t my type at all, so I didn’t feel too bad. I did however go and add the fact that I was a bottom to my description.
I put the phone down and started working on my homework. I had to finish the reading for my AP Bio quiz the next morning, needing at least a B to keep my grade where it was.
My phone pinged every now and then, but each time turned out to be a bust. Some of the guys were way too direct, some of them too old, and the rest were just unsolicited dick-pics. Now I like dicks - I even think dicks are pretty - but if I wanted to see pictures of cock I would Google it.
After a while I started ignoring my phone when it pinged, caught up in my homework. It was a Sunday and I needed to be done in time for class the next day. I heard the doorbell ring, but I assumed that it was for my brother and that he would get it.
My older brother was home from grad school. Since it was the middle of the semester I thought it was weird, but apparently he was doing independent research and could do it anywhere.
I didn’t really mind. I got along much better with my brother now than when we were kids, mostly because he’d stopped being such a raging asshole.
Levi was a total jock, and he’d lived up to all the stereotypes - from playing football and dating a cheerleader to being an obnoxious jerk to anyone he didn’t deem cool . When I had come out of the closet he’d stopped using gay slurs, but I was pretty sure that my mother had been the reason behind that. She was tremendously protective of me and worried constantly about how mean the world could be to people who are different .
As far as I could tell, Levi wasn’t doing any actual research. Mostly he played video
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