Page 18 of The Secret Experimentation
“And my ears are not big!” I stop my hands from touching them to check.
He snorts again and mumbles something about Dumbo and flying before drinking the last of his beer. I grab my forgotten bottle and move to the door.
“Thanks,” I say with my back to him. I know, I’m an idiot.
His hand lands on my shoulder. “Anytime. I mean it, bro.”
As I said to Mel, my brother and I are very different, but we’ve always been close.
He pats my shoulder. “Plus, I want to know how this drama carries on. Just give me the heads-up next time so I can settle in with some popcorn.”
I push the fucker away.Hard. And get out of the room.
Loud chatter and laughter drown out my thoughts as I cross the kitchen again and end up sitting on one of the stools lining the bar.
I’m thanking the bartender for sliding another beer in front of me when my eyes fall on a red band peeking through a thick, messy mass of brown hair. Mel’s. His lip’s healed, but I can still see a shadow of a bruise near his eye. The orange tank top and white capri pants wrap his long body like a second skin, leaving nothing to the imagination. While the flowery slip-on shoes give his attire an almost cute, naive touch. I see many heads turning his way, if not for his bold fashion choice, then for the buoyant, enthusiastic energy infused in each step he takes. His rich laugh seems also to be an attention magnet.
It’s been a week since that night. The morning after, I’d woken up early with a warm, pliant Mel sleeping on top of me. My morning wood had been ready to go, and I usually beat one off when I rouse. Feeling Mel’s small body and sweet Jasmine scent on me had my cock throbbing. Even the feeling of my wrinkly clothes hadn’t subsided the burning desire inside me. My mind was replaying the kiss from the night before, and in my still half-asleep state I was contemplating my next step. Until I heard the sound of keys turning and the front door opening. The fog covering my head dispersed and I pushed Mel—gently—onto the other side of the bed before jumping down. Sam was lying on the sofa when I crossed the living room in a hurry. The fact that he was crashing at Mel’s while looking for a place to stay still rubs me the wrong way. And after telling him what happened at the shelter, I left with a fucking cloud of confusion growing inside my head. I haven’t seen Mel since then, not even in passing. And now I can’t seem to stop staring at him.
In particular, his round butt. It bounces every time he moves, and I want to see it jiggling against my thrusting hips. Did I really just think that? Mel turns my way as he swings his arm. A sliver of skin appears as the fabric of his top rolls up, revealing the tempting path of light caramel hair, which descends toward the bulge hidden in his thin pants. My cock stirs eagerly, and I discreetly adjust it, trying to make room for it in my jeans.
When I look up I’m met with Mel’s serious gaze. We stare at each other for a long few seconds. Then he just waves at me. And after I reply with a small nod, he sits at the table with Sam and a girl I’ve never seen before. Sam gives me a huge smile and a chin tilt gesturing me to join them. Mel is staring down at the table like he’s forcing himself not to look at me. And I really want to go there if only to feel his gaze on me once again. But fuck, I can’t move right now. Unless I want to give everybody an eyeful of my hard dick. So I just point at my brother to let Sam know I’m not alone.
“That must be Mel. He’s cute,” Scott says, sending a glance his way before looking at me.
I nod, without taking my eyes away from him—like I could mentally force him to turn my way.
“Ouch! Doesn’t look good, bro.”
It certainly doesn’t.
“I told you he stopped flirting with me.”
“He’s avoiding you, Russ. Which actually is not entirely bad,” Scott utters.
“How so?” I can hear the irritation in my tone, but I don’t see how this could be good. Plus, a drop of condensation from my beer bottle just landed on my shirt. The round wet spot taunting me. Fuck! That’s another reason why I need a tissue around it.
“If all he was feeling was indifference he wouldn’t care to look at you. But he’s literally going out of his way to ignore you. Which actually shows how much power you still have over him.”
Is it true? Do I still have a chance to…experiment with this attraction to him? But even though I finally admitted what I want, it doesn’t mean that I’m not scared to try it.
“Who’s the other guy?” Scott asks me, eyeing Sam with what I believe is interest.
“That’s Sam. Mel’sfriend.” I underline the word, annoyed by the way Mel’s hand keeps touching Sam’s forearm from time to time.
“And his girlfriend, I presume?” My eyes land on the brunette sitting near Sam. She’s beautiful if you’re into posh, high-maintenance girls. Which I used to be. Not anymore I guess. She looks out of place, looking around with a pinched face and wearing a silk party dress while holding her expensive bag close to her chest.
I shrug. But the interest I thought I saw in my brother’s gaze has faded and he’s watching the people on the dance floor now. That’s the thing about Scott. He gets bored easily. No man holds his attention for more than a few hours.
His phone starts ringing and glancing at the screen, he pats my shoulder and stands up. “I gotta take this. Good luck.” He winks at me before disappearing behind the kitchen doors.
The black-haired waiter, Fredrick, I think his name is—my brother introduced me to the staff earlier—stops beside me.
After putting his order in with the bartender—can’t remember his name—he turns to me, “Hey, Russel.”
I nod his way.
“I saw you waving at that guy.” He points at Sam. “Do you know if the cute dish at the same table is single? Because fuck, he’s fine.”
