Page 47 of Best Wrong Thing

“I’m being serious. We could get to know each other outside the bedroom. Become friends, like Mum is so desperate for us to be.”

“We are friends, aren’t we?”

“I dunno. Are we? We don’t hang out anywhere but the bedroom.”

“That’s what we agreed to. I thought it was what you wanted too.”

I rest my cheek over his heart. “It is. I’ve had so much fun the past few weeks. Sex practically on tap? Yes, please.”

“Why do I sense a but?”

“No but. Unless you mean this butt.” I waggle my arse.

He chuckles. “That isn’t what I meant.”

I pout. “Shame.”

“Archer?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure there isn’t a but?”

I suck in a breath. “It would be nice to get to know you as a person, not just as the guy who satisfies me in bed.”

“Can you handle being completely hands-off for two weeks? They can’t know, Archer. They can’t.”

“They won’t. And yes, I think I can manage. Can you?”

He whimpers. “It will be hard.”

“Well, when you’re hard, think of me and masturbate.”

“They might hear,” he whispers.

“How old are you? You’re a grown man. You’re allowed to masturbate in the privacy of your room.”

“That doesn’t mean I want my dad and Molly to overhear me.”

I fold my hands on his chest and rest my chin on them so I can see his face. “Did your parents ever catch you jacking off?”

He grimaces.

“They did! Tell me about it.”

“It was mortifying.”

“Which is why it’ll make a good story. Tell me.”

“I was fourteen. I thought my parents were out. I could never get it up when I knew they were in the house. I had a collection of magazines?—”

“Did you keep them under your bed? Were they sexy ones? Men or women?”

“Men. They were bodybuilding magazines, so no full frontal nudity, but plenty of pictures of guys with bulging muscles, wearing nothing but skimpy underpants that hid nothing.”

“Mmm, sexy.”

“I kept them in a box, in the bottom of my wardrobe, under a stack of comics.”