Page 109 of Lost Boy
“Fuck, Ryder. Lower.” He tries to spread his legs, stopped by his pants around his thighs.
I pop off of his growing erection, chuckling at his neediness. “We don’t have time, and it’s too messy. Lemme just swallow your cum real quick.”
Fallon whimpers, squeezing his eyes shut while I suck him down again. He presses his hips forward, and I reach around to rub his ass cheeks and encourage him to fuck my mouth.
He starts to thrust, and soon enough, he’s nearly gagging me, holding my head still while he utterly uses me. I slip a finger between his crease and start to rub circles against his hole, and that does it. With a quiet grunt, Fallon explodes, releasing load after load into the back of my throat, nearly choking me.
He’s panting heavily when he releases my hair. I suck every drop off before tucking him back into his underwear, pulling his pants up, zipping and buttoning them.
I stand, wiping the corner of my mouth. “Gonna go brush my teeth real quick before we leave,” I tease, and he bursts out with a raspy laugh that curls my toes. He shakes his head at me.
“You better go do that, Mr. MVP.”
I smirk, loving when he teases me with that nickname.
* * *
Sofie, Jamie, Cole, and I sit at a small, round table with a black linen tablecloth and a tiny battery-powered candle. We have Cokes while Sofie has a coffee.
She and Jamie are sitting awfully close, but I trust him, so I don’t question it.Yet.
Fallon and the girls in our friend group who like to sing are back in the employee lounge, getting ready for their turn on stage.
Thirty minutes after we arrive, the lights dim, and Paul walks on stage, adjusting the mic to his height. His bald head gleams under the spotlights.
“Good evening, everyone! I’m excited to start tonight’s concert! As you all know, we have a grand prize and a few special music executive guests sitting in the back.” Paul uses his hand like a visor, pretending to gaze off into the distance. “Ah! Right there! Mickey, Sal, and Ronnie. Three of my old buddies, who have some really helpful connections down in LA. And the grand prize. . . is five thousand dollars!”
The crowd cheers at that, and I’m a little surprised it’s so much money. This is an awesome opportunity for Fallon. One he wouldn’t have had back in Philadelphia. And speaking of Philly, time is running out. I haven’t had a chance to bring up the trip and ask him if he wants to go, and I don’t know. . .grieve?
It just hasn’t felt like the right time.
Paul starts again as the clapping dies down. “We’ve got a talented line-up of aspiring musical artists, so let’s show them some support!”
The small audience claps loudly, and Jamie sticks his thumb and index finger into his mouth for a loud whistle.
“First up, we have Taylor Roberts performing Taylor Swift!” The crowd chuckles kindly and claps as Taylor walks on stage with her guitar and cowboy boots.
She does great, as does Alexis, Gracie, and a few older musicians I don’t know.
“And next up, we have Fallon Rivers, singing an acoustic cover of “Creep” by Radiohead.”
Fallon calmly climbs the stairs to the stage, adjusting the mic to his height.
His dad’s acoustic guitar hangs on his back, the black studded strap across his chest. Once the mic is situated, he pulls his guitar around and takes a deep breath, strumming a gentle melody.
When Fallon’s raspy, breathy voice starts to sing, the melancholic lyrics flow effortlessly from his mouth. It’s slow and haunting. Mesmerizing. Devastating. Special.Everything. He is fucking everything to me. And when I glance around, I see that he’s enraptured the entire room.
There’s only silence and maybe some watery eyes.
His strumming picks up, and the chords turn optimistic, hopeful, and beautiful. Just like him.
Holy fucking shit.
I’m stunned speechless, like everyone else. Except he’s singingatme, making my skin tingle and my dick harden. The words pour from his heart and bleed from his soul. I squeeze my eyes for a beat, fighting the emotions that his vulnerable voice elicits from me. I can feel his gaze on me, burning into my flesh and igniting my insides.
My eyes pop open, and that intense, steely-blue stare bores into me, open and unguarded. He uses music and lyrics to express himself, so I listen, ensuring I hear what he’s trying to tell me. My heart melts listening to him so raw, so exposed. Telling me and the entire room how lost he feels.
I’ll show him where he belongs tonight—in my bed and underneath me. God, I can’t wait to be inside his tight body again. I need to tell him I love him.Again.All the damn time. Every day. Until he believes it. Until hefeelsit.
