Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 88212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“You and Miles?” he says again.
“Why? You want a turn with me?” It’s cute the way Aiden’s cheeks turn pink. He’s adorable. A little young for me, but adorable. The thing is, I haven’t wanted anyone but Miles since that first blowjob.
“That’s not… I wasn’t…”
Everyone laughs, making Aiden call us all fuckers.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I shove my hand into the Cheerios box, grabbing a handful and popping a few into my mouth. They’re a good source of fiber and all that.
“I heard you disappeared with him at the party last weekend,” Aiden persists.
“Don’t forget the questionable glimpses through the window,” Teddy adds for what’s probably the hundredth time this week. He must have seen something—either that or someone else did and mentioned it to him. The idea is hot, just like it was that night. I’ve never been shy about my body or enjoying sex.
“If you wanna watch, all you have to do is ask.” I wink at Teddy, who gives me the finger.
“Man, fuck that guy,” Damien chimes in. “I can’t believe you’re hooking up with him.” He piles his plate with what must be a dozen eggs. How fucking much does this guy eat? He’s a monster, though, so I guess he’s gotta feed those fucking muscles.
“I felt bad for him when he had the panic attack,” Leo says. He’s a good guy and thinks about shit like that more than the others. It’s why I knew he’d be a good president. We need someone who can be more objective.
As they sit around discussing Miles, all I can think about is how much he would hate this. He doesn’t like being the center of attention, doesn’t like to be dissected. It’s wild how I feel like I know him already, though really, he hasn’t shared that much with me about himself. Still, he’s shared more with me than with anyone else, as far as I can tell, and that…fuck, knowing that does something to me, makes me feel some kinda way I’m not used to.
“You guys all keep talking about him so much, I’m gonna assume you want to fuck him,” I say, eating a few more Cheerios and hoping that will shut them up. For a reason I don’t understand, I want to protect this thing I have going with Miles. I don’t want anyone getting into our heads about it. I’d like the chance to get to know him without everyone fucking it up.
We’ve been texting back and forth all week, which is wild as fuck. We had another bathroom blowjob after art class too. I love how riled up he gets for me, how much he wants me, love knowing that when I’m naked in that classroom, everyone else is thinking about art but Miles is obsessing about what it feels like to be buried in my ass, to have my mouth around his dick or what mine tastes like. I’ve always liked to feel wanted—it’s something my old therapist and I discussed—but it’s even more potent to be wanted by Miles.
“Hello? Earth to Dax.” Leo waves his hand in front of my face, and I realize I was daydreaming.
“Hmm?”
“The cereal. Can I have it?”
“Sure.” I grab another handful, pass it over to him, then return to my room.
I don’t have class today, but I do have a shift at the hospital where I have a part-time job. It’s only a few days a month. I don’t need the money. My dad is loaded, and that’s one thing he doesn’t mind giving me. It keeps me away from him, I guess. But work experience is key, since this is what I want to do with my life. I like helping people, like being in a hospital setting.
I shower, and as I’m drying off, I have an idea. My phone sits on the counter, so I pick it up, wipe the fog off the mirror as best as I can, and take a mirror photo, side view because I like the way my ass looks that way. Miles’s name is on the top because he’s the last person I messaged, so I attach the photo with a good-morning message.
I check my cell too many times while I’m brushing my teeth and putting on my scrubs. I check it in the car too. Is he lying in bed right now? Will he wake up hard, see my photo, then lazily stroke himself off to me? I hope so. God, I need to stop obsessing about him, I tell myself as I park at the hospital and try to push Miles Tanner out of my mind.
As soon as I get into the building, I run into Jameson, one of the X-ray techs. “Hey, Dax. What’s up, man?”
“Hey. How you doing?”
Jameson is hot—over six feet tall, his black hair in twists, and this deep voice that does shit to my insides—so of course we’ve hooked up. He loves getting fucked, and I’ve given him what he wants a few times. The way his eyes are tracking me up and down this morning, I can tell what’s on his mind, and normally, I would be down. But again, it’s like I have fucking Miles-brain and can’t think about anyone but him.