Page 29 of Drag Me Up

“If you’re still up for it after the meeting, we’re going to celebrate your birthday. We can ask them to stay for it, or it can be just the two of us. It’s your call.”

“You shouldn’t be so trusting with your devices,” I mumble, but I’m secretly happy that he trusts me with it. “If I want them to stay, I’ll ask you for birthday kisses. If I don’t, I’ll grab myself a Sprite. You do have Sprite, don’t you?”

He chuckles and grabs me a can of my favorite beverage out of the fridge before I start reading.

“The store didn’t have the good root beer. I still don’t understand how you can drink that stuff,” he says as he hands me the can of lemon-lime pop.

“I don’t drink root beer anymore,” I mumble. All teasing thoughts flee from my brain as I read. My brain doesn’t want to process what it’s seeing. I was supposed to remain anonymous. Father paid offeveryone. He tried to kill me because he had to spend more money to keep his name out of it than if he just had to pay them off to not report it.

“He’s going to kill me,” I say under my breath. I guess Matt has good hearing because a second later, I’m in his arms. One of the sandwiches fell off the plate and soup has sloshed all over his coffee table.

“You need to be more careful with your furniture,” I tell him as I wiggle out of his arms to reach for a sandwich. “Even if it is cheaper than a hooker down on Liberty.”

I got no issue with sex workers, but there’s a difference between pricing to the market and selling yourself short. Those ladies and gents don’t know their worth, and I’ve helped a few move on to better and safer places to find their johns. The ones heading to Liberty are there for the spectacle, not to make a transaction.

If I pretend what I just read doesn’t exist, it goes away, right? The monster in my nightmares isn’t going to be free. My sperm donor isn’t going to hunt me down to kill me. The world hasn’t just been told I was gang raped.

“Eric, are you okay with the guys coming over for the meeting?”

I shrug and watch as Matt gets up to grab a roll of paper towels to clean up his mess. After he mops up the spilled soup, he pulls out his phone but keeps glancing at me instead of doing anything on it. He looks conflicted.

I keep chewing my sandwich. It was nice of Ms. Sara to give Matt food to bring back for me. I know what itshouldtaste like, but it tastes like ash. Actually, no it doesn’t. It tastes like nothing.

“Why do people say something tastes like ash when they mean it tastes like nothing? Ash tastes disgusting. I know. I’ve tried it.”

Matt stops wiping up the soup and looks at me like I’m an alien. Can I really pull off not being affected?Apparently, I’ve shut down too much. I need to do something to get his mind off of worrying about me.

Something settles inside of me as an idea forms: If I keep him distracted, I can delay talking about it. Distracting, I can do. I’m a master at keeping a man’s attention where I want it.

I practically inhale the rest of my sandwich to have my hands free for my plan. Cuddling back into his arms I let my hands move over his chest, dipping lower and lower. I have more than enough experience to know how to turn a man on, and I can tell Matt is enjoying my attention.

“What are you doing, Eric?” he gasps out as I flip open the button on his jeans. I mean, I would think it’s pretty obvious, but I give him a signature Sassy smirk as I reach under the waistband of his delightfully boring boxer briefs to grasp his hard cock in my hand. Slowly stroking him, I stretch up to give my Mattie a kiss on the cheek.

“I’d think it’s obvious, lover,” I tell him with as sultry a voice as I can manage with the panic running rampant inside my head. “I’m looking for attention. A very specific type of attention if you get my drift.”

Matt’s hips lift off the futon as he tries to hold off his orgasm and regain control of the situation, but I’ve got him in the palm of my hand, quite literally. Unlike last night, I’m the one in control of this encounter.

“Eric… Cutie… Please… Can’t…”

Matt is fighting his need to come, but I can tell he wants to. Not only is he smiling at me, but he couldeasily reach down and grab my hand to stop me. Instead, he is clutching the back of the futon frame for dear life. His breathing is erratic. His weak protests have turned into moans as he thrusts into my hand now, his precum serving as an adequate enough lubricant.

I guess my Mattie likes a little pain with his pleasure. We can take advantage of this later on at the club.

Matt’s entire body tenses, and I watch the ecstasy flow across his face. The sound of his groan reverberates through me to the point I just want to drag him back to the bedroom so we can have our wicked way with each other for the rest of the day. Hell, the rest of eternity. I try to stand up, but his hand reaches out for my wrist to pull me back to his side.

Eh, the futon works, too. It’s not like we have to worry about roommates or anything.

Before I am able to kiss him, there is a knock on the back door. I’m fully prepared to ignore it, but Mattie groans in frustration and tells whoever it is that the door is open. Iwantto go back to making him groan for another reason and tell the person at the door to fuck off. Instead, I hurriedly grab some tissues to clean off my hand while Matt tucks himself back into his jeans.

23

MATT

“You’re early,” I snarl at Spencer when he walks into my living room. Eric is sitting next to me, wiping my release off his hand with the tissues as if it’s nothing to be concerned about. The sight makes my dick start to wake back up. Hell, who am I kidding? I’m still hard to the point where this meeting is going to be extremely uncomfortable.

“My boy was anxious to make sure his best buddy was alright,” Spencer tells us as I notice a head of chocolate colored curls poke in the doorway. It’s been a few months, but I recognize Lucas from last semester.

“Lucas is your boy?”

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