Page 51 of Flagrant Foul
I bob my head blankly.
I do know.
It feels fucking good to have your dick in a mouth. So good. All nice and wet and warm. Pretty lips wrapped around you. Sweet, mind-numbing suction that makes reality go away.
“But don’t worry. It’ll be different with you,” he says.
“What do you mean?” asks the ignoramus that’s taken command of my voice.
“I mean, I won’t be tense with you because I know you won’t let me be. I know you’ll take all day to prep me if that’s what I need. Plus, I know how much I want you. My body and my mind will let it happen, you’ll see. My hole was made for you, Sev. I know that because Iwas made for you.”
It’s too much. I can’t take this kind of talk.
“Teddy, please.” I slump against the wall, insides shaking with arousal. “Please, Teddy Bear,please be good.”
“Oh, Sev.” He shakes his head sympathetically. “I’d do anything for you. You know I would, but I can’t do that. I’ve been trying to be good for years, and it hasn’t served me at all. You might not realize it yet, but it hasn’t served you either.”
A weak whimper leaves me.
“But here’s what I will do, okay?” His face is a picture of reasonableness, and that fills me with a smattering of hope. “I’ll put on some pants before we go to Nadia’s.”
It’s not much, but it’s something.
“And you’ll take my jersey off,” I suggest optimistically.
“Okay, but I’m keeping it in my room, and I’ll wear it whenever I feel like it.”
When he goes to his bedroom, I type a frantic message to Nate.
Look, bro, I don’t know what to tell you, but if something doesn’t change fast, I’m going to accidentally put my dick in your brother’s ass.
Once I’ve read the message back a few times, I delete it with the greatest care imaginable, letter by letter, to make sure I don’t hit send by mistake.
27
Teddy “T-Dog” O’Reilly
BeingatNadia’sisa great reminder of everything I don’t like about her. She looks stunning, for one thing. She matches the décor, for God’s sake. She’s a symphony of pastel colors in the same tones as the art on the walls. In addition, she has that whole high cheekbones and dewy thing going on in a very big way.
She probably does a seventy-two-step Korean skincare routine at night and wakes up early to do it again in the morning. She probably drinks apple cider vinegar every day, and she probably likes how it tastes.
My skin would be dewy too if I had the time for all that.
The reunion isn’t as fiery as I was expecting, and I think that’s a good thing. Fieriness is a sign of passion, and that’s the last thing I want to see anywhere near Sev, unless it’s coming from me. Truth be told, Nadia looks pretty done with Sev. She hardly talks to him, and whenhe asks a question, she blinks slowly and points a long, bony finger in the direction the answer lies.
Despite the fact that I’m in no way looking to help smooth things over between them, and I am about eighty-seven percent sure Sev is as much in the wrong as she is, it does take rather a lot of effort to tamp down the irrational urge to defend him.
I manage, but only just.
Fortunately, she had all his things boxed up and lining the entrance when we got here, which was either very nice of her—unlikely—or another sign of her being done with him.
The strange thing is, aside from the boxes, the rest of the house looks exactly the same as it did when he lived here. Not a single thing has been altered by Sev moving out.
How is that possible? How do you live in a place for two years and not leave a mark? I mean, how do you manage to reside somewhere for that long and not put a single thing you own up on a wall or buy a lamp or a piece of furniture?
“Are you okay?” I ask once Sev and I are on our way, bumping along in the barely road-worthy white van he managed to get, and I quote, “an unreal deal,” on.
“Yeah, sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”
