Page 9 of Girl Going Nowhere

I don’t want to hear him compare our situations when they’re completely different. “She deserves more than that.”

Wedeserve more than that.

“That’s not up to you to decide.” His eyes go back to the screen before he sighs. “Look, I like Blake just fine. None of us want to see her unhappy. But consider the fact that the way she livesiswhat makes her happy and deal with it. Be what she’s looking for, not what you think she needs.”

I’m quiet for a long stretch of time, wondering if it’s advice he wants me to take for her sake or for his. “I’m not sure how to do that.”

“It’s not that hard. Be her friend. Be her roommate. But don’t force it. Then she’ll resent you for trying to make any type of relationship work for your benefit without thinking about hers.”

He un-pauses the game, tongue darting out in concentration. There’s something shadowed over his face, and I have a feeling it has nothing to do with Blake but whatever pieces of his past that he’s rarely shared with any of us.

*

It’s around twoin the morning when my bedroom door cracks open and light footsteps creep in. I know who it is before the door clicks closed and the mattress dips with extra weight.

“We said we weren’t going to do this again,” I murmur, voice groggy from sleep as lips trail along my neck. I arch my head to the side to give them more access as a hand reaches for the bulge quickly hardening in my boxers. “We said last time was it.”

“One more time,” Dante says, stirring a groan from my throat as his palm strokes my cock. My hips roll into him as invitation to grip me harder.

This started years ago. It used to be with a girl in between us—mindless threesomes to get off when we were out partying together. Then it turned into late-night rendezvous between the two of us to escape for a while.

I’ve never let myself wonder what it means. I never questioned my sexuality before. I know I like women. And I like men. More than that, I enjoy getting off.

The guy whose hand is jerking me off, though? I know he’s been in an uphill battle for a long time. All thanks to the fucker he shares half his DNA with and the threats he’s made. Dante’s insomnia stems from night terrors of his past that he uses me to run from for as long as he can.

If this is the only time Dante can be himself, I’ll happily let him use me.

Eventually, my boxers disappear, and his mouth takes over where his hand left off. My palms roam over the smooth skin of his back, trailing up his neck and to the back of his head, coaxing him to take me deeper until the head of my cock is scraping the back of his throat. His groan vibrates over my shaft, making my thighs tighten as I jerk up and fill him deeper until he swallows me past his gag reflex.

I wrap my fingers through his hair and clench hard as he deep throats me. “I’m close,” I rasp, feeling the orgasm travel down my spine.

It never takes long with him. Truthfully, he’s the best head I’ve ever gotten. Not that I’m surprised. Who better to know what a guy likes than another guy?

His hands fondle my balls, rolling them and coaxing me to come. And I do. My back arches off the bed as I shoot my load straight down his throat, holding his face down as I spasm underneath him.

Dante takes it all, riding it out until I fall back onto the mattress and drape an arm over my eyes as I curse under my breath.

I hear the nightstand open.

The wrapper.

Then the bottle.

When I move my arm, I see that he’s watching me with a cocky smirk on his face. He knows how good he is. Hell, I’ve heard the women he brings over who also think his mouth is pretty fucking awesome based on their noises.

I sit up. “What was it this time?” I ask, wanting to know the reason he’s in my room tonight.

His jaw tics as he passes me the condom and lube that we keep at the ready for nights like this. “I don’t want to talk about it. Just fuck me.”

My cock hardens almost instantly, knowing how tight he’s going to be once I thrust into that tight hole of his.

Knowing he won’t talk about it, I slide the condom on and lube it up before playing with his puckered asshole with one of my lubed-up fingers. I push his face into my bedding and stretch him with my digit, brushing the spot where he needs me before entering a second finger.

He curses, wiggling his ass and arching his back to get a better angle. “I saidfuck me.”

He’s on edge tonight. More than usual. Brodie rarely sees this side of him. It’s the broody version he relays to people. Even Blake. But me?

When the door is locked behind him, and the room is bathed in darkness, that version of Dante is long gone.

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