Page 7 of Bet On It

He’d been asking himself that all day, getting absolutely nothing accomplished at work. Was this going too far? Even though every ounce of common sense he had left was screaming at him not to do this, he was obviously choosing to listen to the wrong head. His cock was ruling this decision, and the sentence from Judge Cock had him handcuffed, strip searched, and serving the next two weeks of his life being punished to the fullest extent of Spencer’s sexual whims.

Walking into the house that night had felt different than the hundreds of times he’d done it before. Change was in the air, and the anticipation sent tingles of energy all through Ty’s body. He’d already stopped to get the mandatory Chinese food that Spencer had texted he wanted. He set that on the counter and went to his room to change into sweats and a T-shirt.

Coming back out into the living room, Ty noticed a small, white box on the coffee table. Spencer was in the kitchen, taking the containers out of the bag.

“Just in time… I thought I would have to serve myself.” Spencer stepped away and went to sit on the couch, waiting to be served. “Oh, and I’ll take a beer,” he yelled into kitchen.

Walking back into the living room, plate and beer in hand, Ty gave Spencer his food while eyeing that box sitting on the table. He went and got his own plate and beer then sat down at the other end of the couch.

They ate in silence, but the sound of that little box calling Ty’s name threatened to drive him crazy. It was no bigger than a box of tissues. Was it for him? Did it have something in it that Spencer would make him do? How could Spencer keep eating with that box calling Ty’s name so fucking loudly?

“Ty!” Spencer smacked him on the arm. “Dude, I said your name three times!”

Okay, so the box wasn’t magically calling to him, but he couldn’t take it anymore. “What’s in the box?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“That’d be why I asked,” Ty sarcastically retorted.

“Such a smart ass!” Spencer sat there staring a hole through Ty, those blue eyes like laser beams, scorching a path from Ty’s eyes to his lips and back up.

Every hair on Ty’s body rose by the sheer magnitude of Spencer’s baby blues focused on him. He’d known Spencer for years; yet, somehow, lately it was like he was seeing him for the first time. Ty was nervous around him. Like…butterflies in his stomach, hands shaking, mouth dry…fucking nervous!

“So, I’ve been thinking a lot about this today.”

Oh God, here it comes. Ty picked his beer up and drained the last of it in seconds. His heart raced as he waited for Spencer to continue.

“I never thought you, of all people, would get off on watching two guys having sex.”

He knows! Spencer knows I saw him and his tied-up, begging booty call!

“Ty, you’re spacing out again.” He looked over at Spencer, his pulse pounding in his ears. “Those movies were meant to be punishment, but you getting off on them? Never expected that.”

The porn! Right! Ty, seriously, get a grip, he silently scolded himself.

“So, I’m gonna do something I never do,” Spencer continued. “I’m giving you the chance to take door number one.”

Door number one? Was that what he called taking it up the ass? What the fuck was door number two then? Maybe door number one was code for a blow job and door number two was taking it up the ass? Both had Ty’s cock doing a happy dance in his sweats, making him grab the nearest pillow to smother the dance party.

The flick of Spencer’s middle finger right between Ty’s eyes jerked him back to reality.

“Focus, Ty!” Spencer laughed, and Ty noticed they were suddenly sitting very close to each other. “I’m willing to let you go back and choose my original idea for losing the bet. You’d have to do the laundry and food shopping for one month.”

“What?” Ty couldn’t believe his ears.

“I don’t want weirdness between us, so I’m willing to change the stakes, if that’s what you want to do.”

This was not going as Ty had planned. He put the pillow back on the couch and looked down at his lap, absently pulling at a thread coming out of the seam of the right leg of his sweats. This made sense; they’d been friends for too long to risk screwing it up with sex. And what the fuck was he even thinking anyway? He didn’t fuck guys—and had never in his life wanted another guy to fuck him.

“Or…”

Ty’s head shot back up, his eyes looking straight into Spencer’s. “Or?”

“Or, you could choose door number two.” Ty followed Spencer’s gaze as it landed on the small box on the coffee table.

“You’ve made it pretty clear I’m not using this whole no limits thing to the fullest extent. So…choosing door number two, you opt to follow through with being under my command…without limits. Anything that occurs from this point on happens”—Spencer’s blue eyes were intense, and Ty couldn’t bring himself to even blink—“between two consenting adults.”

Those three words, two consenting adults, he swore echoed through the room as if they’d been yelled off the highest mountaintop. They both knew what those three words meant, understanding moving between them. This was it, the pinnacle moment—the one that changed everything. If he chose door number one, he could feel like himself again for the first time in a month. Things could go back to the way they were. That thought wrapped around him like a warm blanket, fresh from the dryer. It comforted him and made him feel safe.

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