Page 84 of Flipping the Script

He smoothed his hands over his shirt and shifted it so it sat more squarely over his shoulders and wasn’t off to one side anymore. “There’s nothing you can do about the beard burn or thatI just got the dicking of a lifetimeglow about you. But those’ll fade on their own.”

He stilled, his hands in his hair, and glared at me. “Cocky much?”

“You tell me.” I grabbed at my dick like a moron. “Didn’t you call my dick a monster?”

He laughed and finished finger-combing his hair. “I said youhavea monster dick. I didn’t call it a monster.”

“Semantics.” I waved him off. “But you did call it magical.”

He shot me an unamused look.

“How do I look?” I asked.

“Not bad.” He bit his lip, giving me a once-over. “Smooth down your hair a bit. And fix your shirt.” He tugged at the left side of his collar.

I did as he said, trusting him to not send me out there looking as messy as I felt. “Better?”

“Good enough to slip out.” He nodded. “The beard burn is still pretty bad. You’ll want to be careful to not talk to anyone.”

“Yeah. Sensitive skin.” I touched my cheek. I’d always been ghostly pale, and any sort of friction or prolonged pressure on my skin left obvious marks on me. “Shit.”

“What?”

“I promised your dad I’d see his roses before I left.” I rubbed at my skin, the heat under my hand telling me it would be a while before the marks faded.

“Okay.” He cracked his knuckles absently. “You stay up here for a bit and come down when you look normal again. I’ll go ahead and put in some face time with everyone so no one questions us both being gone.”

“Are you sure that’s okay? Me chilling in your room?”

“It’s not exactly my room anymore, is it?” His smile didn’t reach his eyes.

“I just meant me being upstairs. I know your parents prefer people don’t come up here when they have parties.”

“You’re not just anyone.” He shrugged. “But you can chill in Adam’s old room, or Quinn’s, if it’s less weird. I’ll tell people you’re taking a call, and I said you could use one of our rooms if that helps.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

He shrugged and stuck his hands in his pockets. “No worries.”

“Jesse…”

I had no idea what the hell I wanted to say. Thank you for letting me fuck you? You were the best I’ve ever had?

He arched one eyebrow questioningly.

“Never mind,” I finished lamely.

“I’m going to head down,” he said, his eyes clouding over as his mask slid back into place. “There’s a box of tissues over there.” He pointed at a bookshelf next to where he’d tossed the condom. “Be a dear and clean up the desk.”

“You want me to clean up your mess?” I tried to keep my voice light, but my question came out sharper than I’d intended.

“Technically, it’s your mess. You’re the one who made me come on your cock, right?” He smirked, but his eyes were blank, and his tone was devoid of any real inflection.

“Right.” I cleared my throat. “Yeah. I’ll take care of it.”

“I probably don’t have to say this, but this?—”

“Never happened,” I finished.

---