Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
I cleaned up my jizz, tucked myself away, and couldn’t wait until work that night when it would be my turn to work a load out of Brax’s balls.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Brax
Ty and I kept hanging out—after class, and my TA stuff, before work, after work. The day I’d jerked him off at the library, he’d given me head in the stockroom again. Poor Marshall had interrupted us again, and I was fairly certain he was now scarred for life because this time, the door somehow hadn’t locked and he’d actually walked in to see my dick hanging out of Ty’s mouth. I’d never seen a face turn so red or a door close so quickly.
We’d messed around in the empty classroom again too, and he’d come to my house a couple of times to study, which we did, but I rewarded him with orgasms afterward. Ty hadn’t fucked me yet, but I’d had him again, and he was right—it was, in fact, quality hole.
Two weeks had gone by since the first night he’d slept over, and we just…kept playing this game with each other. We didn’t put a label on it. Hell, we didn’t even talk about it. We just participated in the two H’s: hooking up and hanging out. We acted normal around everyone else, didn’t do couple stuff because we weren’t a couple. We were two horny guys who liked getting off with each other and giving each other shit, but I was pretty sure some people had realized something was up.
Tonight Shenanigans was pretty busy, even for a Friday night. Ty was supposed to get off early, but Gwen had asked him if he could stay a little longer and help us. Around midnight the doors opened, and a group of lacrosse players came in. Just what we needed. “Langley!” they yelled, one of them adding, “I can’t believe you’re a dish bitch!”
I didn’t know how in the fuck he hung out with them. I could hardly handle being in the same room as his teammates, but then, there was a time I’d felt that way about Ty too.
There were six of them, Ty’s usual three friends among them. Ty glanced at me from where he was wiping down the bar, before giving them his attention again. “I’ll make you my bitch,” he replied, grabbing his junk.
Jesus fucking Christ. Sometimes I couldn’t believe I liked him.
“Anytime, sexy,” one of the guys replied. I didn’t know who in the fuck he was, but I already didn’t like him. Heat burned across my skin, settling in my gut with lingering embers. “You know I love you.” He grabbed Ty and playfully tried to kiss his cheek.
Ty shoved him away. “Get the fuck off me. I don’t know where your lips have been.”
I was pretty sure the guy had been teasing, but still, there was a sharp edge to my voice when I interrupted, “Can I get you guys something to drink?”
Ty must have sensed my annoyance because he cocked a brow my direction, but I ignored him. They all ordered beer, and while I poured a pitcher, I heard, “What are you doing when you get off? After this we’re heading to a party. Jessica Rodriguez said you should go. She legit told me to tell you she wants you.”
The pitcher of beer decided to jump out of my hand and clatter to the floor. “Fuck,” I gritted out. There was beer everywhere, all over the wooden floor and my shoes. It’s not because of what fuckface said. I don’t care if someone wants to ride Ty’s dick. Nope, I’m not jealous. Not at all. Not of the woman or the dickface who tried to kiss him. “Watch out,” I told Gwen when she headed my way. “Don’t slip.”
I didn’t let myself look at Ty, partly because I didn’t want to see the cocky grin on his face that said busted and also because I didn’t want him to make a decision based on what he thought I might want. We were just fucking around. We weren’t exclusive.
“I’ll help with this.” Marshall brought over a mop and began cleaning up while I started to fill another pitcher.
“You gonna go, or what?” the jockhole asked.
“Ah, no, I don’t think so. I’ll probably turn in early tonight,” Ty replied.
I smiled. Fucking smiled.
“Come on, man. You’ve been ditching us all the time lately. What the hell is up with you?” Watty asked—and seriously, that was the stupidest fucking nickname in the world.
“Nothin’s up with me. I just have plans. That okay with you?”
“He’s hiding out with some piece of ass,” Ford replied.
I clunked the pitcher onto the counter and handed them mugs.
“Maybe he’s in love,” came another response, and they all started laughing.
Yep, it was time for me to get the hell out of there.