Page 55 of Totally Geeked

“They’re hot as fuck is what they are,” he says, and I peek through my fingers to find him sitting and flipping through the book, making the best kind of facials. “Your imagination is amazing. Do you really fantasize about us, about me?”

“Pretty much all the time, yeah.”

“I’d love to hear all about what it is you’re imagining exactly when you draw these… Ohhh, can we try this one?” he asks, turning the book around to show me the drawing I made depicting him in his knee pads, chest plate, and cleats, crouched at the end of my bed, with my legs around his neck, cock in his mouth and his fingers buried inside my ass. I always considered myself to be strictly a top, but imagining this made me want to try things I never thought I would want.

I take the sketchbook from him, my dick twitching at the thought of doing this for real.

“Did you bring your gear?” I ask, and he jumps from the couch.

“I have stuff in the truck. Be right back.”

Before I can say anything, he’s out the door, returning a few minutes later with a gym bag in his hand and a wide grin on his lips.

“It’s game time. Let's get you naked.”

I go to put the sketchbook down, but he shakes his head.

“Bring it with you. We have all night. Let’s see how many other fantasies we can bring to life.”

Chapter twenty-one

Harrison

I walk from thebathroom to the kitchen in my apartment letting the cool air dry off the beads of water on my skin. Every muscle aches from the last few days of training, more than normal since dodging Gordon’s high balls has become a regular occurrence. This is so messed up. It never should have gone this way, but I’m starting to think it never could have gone any other way because, to him, I’ll never be good enough for his brother. Maybe he’s right. But Arlo doesn’t think so and that’s what matters to me most.

“Seriously, we talked about this,” Duckie says, walking through the front door. “Please tell me your ass hasn’t touched the couch.”

“You were out, I thought I had time. Don’t worry I’m just grabbing a drink, then I’ll go back to my room.” I sigh, and he frowns.

“Everything alright?”

“Except for my best friend hating me, I’m just peachy.”

“Peachy? Okay, so it’s worse than I thought.”

“I just don’t get why he can’t see how this is different.”

“Gordon will come around. He just needs time.”

“Maybe.”

“He only threw, what? Three balls at your face today?”

“Four,” I reply, moving the rubber duckie army guarding the soda bottles in the back.

“So that's better than the seven yesterday, right?”

“I guess.”

“See, progress. Now can you please go to your room or at least put a towel on before Ian gets home? I might be used to seeing your ass every day but he has limits.”

I toss one of his ducks at him and grab a bottle of soda. “You worried he’ll see how much better it is than yours?”

“Please, my ass is so much better than yours.”

I laugh. It might be the first time I've laughed in days, and it feels weird, empty almost, but I shove the feeling aside and head for my room.

“We’re ordering pizza if you want to join, fully clothed, that is?” Duckie asks, just as I reach my bedroom door.

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