Read Online Secret in a Suitcase: His Forbidden Desire by JJ Simone - Free Book Online Page A

draping myself across the
door frame, like I've seen sexy actresses do in old movies.
    “... Have fun tonight!” I said, trying to sound
over-the-top sexy, all the
while trying not to laugh .

    ***

    After Brock
left, I watched TV with Mom and Dad until they finally went to bed.
Once I was sure they were sleeping, I snuck into the guest room,
determined to find his little black journal and see what exactly he
was so worried about me finding out.
    I looked around his room and quickly spotted the only place he
could've hid the journal – in his suitcase.
    I unzipped his suitcase and started removing stacks of his
neatly-folded clothes. His smell seemed to emanate from his clothes,
so distinct and fresh and strong. I don't know why it was so
comforting to me, I'd never experienced anything like this before!
    I took out another stack and – aha! – found his little
black journal stashed below. I quickly flipped through and was amazed
by how much Brock had written. Four years' worth of Brock's life, all
of his college exploits, in this little book! I opened to a random
page, his sophomore year, and started to read.

    Played a
show at Sins Bar last night. Pretty good crowd, they were dancing &
moshing & clearly having a good time. Everyone got pretty drunk.
Afterwards, met this girl Anna and her friend Inez. Took them
backstage for some drinks. They got good and drunk and asked me if I
wanted to see them make out. I said sure, what the hell. Didn't take
long before they were sitting in my lap and --

    I started to
feel mad for some reason, so I stopped reading there. Is this why
Brock played in a band? So drunken floozies could throw themselves at
him? I thought I knew him better than that. C'mon Brock!
    … But curiosity killed the cat, you know? I flipped to another
page.

    . . . so I
broke up with Jessica today. Accidentally called her “Julie”
while we were fucking, and she picked a huge fight over it. I told
her, 'hey, Jessica, Julie, they're both J-names, you're both
important women in my life, mistakes happen.' She wouldn't drop it,
though. Said that she thinks I have some kind of weird attachment to
my neighbor based on a bunch of psychological crap she tried to use
on me. Of course I'm attached to her – she was the best friend
I had growing up. I love her. Get over it.

    I was so
shocked! I couldn't believe that I had basically broken him and his
girlfriend up and I never even knew about it – or her, for that
matter. I have to admit, even though I didn't know her, some part of
me felt satisfied to know that he'd called out my name. Maybe you
just weren't good enough for him, Jessica. I started to read more
about their breakup:

    . . . After
arguing for a few hours, I decided to pack up my things and told her
we shouldn't see each other anymore. She said fine, and started
throwing everything of mine into a box. Shit I didn't even want, like
my old toothbrush, and random knick-knacks … like, OK,
whatever. I'll take everything I've ever touched, I guess.
    Then she took out my Clone-A-Cock dildo and threw it in the box,
too. What the hell am I supposed to do with that thing? It was her idea to do that. She'd said, “you have such a pretty cock –
it'd make such a nice dildo. I want to have it forever.” So she
went and ordered a Clone-A-Cock kit off the internet and pretty soon
I've got my dick in a silicone mold. I even remember asking her,
“what if we break up?” and she said, “I'd still
keep it.”
    Well, apparently not. Now I've got this perfect replica dildo of
my own cock. The hell am I supposed to do with that?

    I bit my lower
lip. Brock would definitely die if he knew I was reading this!
This was so naughty ! I couldn't believe he made a replica of
his own penis! I wanted to see what it looked like – was it big
or small? It had to be big, right? Otherwise his girlfriend wouldn't
have wanted him to make a mold of it, I'm pretty sure. Yup,
definitely big, had to be big.
    I decided I should stop