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26

Paul

I don’t know when I took on the role of fun police with Jeremy and Brendon, but it feels like it’s just always been that way. They decide to do dumb shit, and I follow along to make sure they don’t get hurt or kicked off the hockey team. Unfortunately, in a situation like tonight, I can’t keep them both at arm’s length, so after Brendon has had four drinks, he disappears. Jeremy is bobbing for boob squishies in water for some reason, and I’m kind of surprised Brendon isn’t right here with him. Seriously, where is Preston?

A drenched-faced Jeremy lifts a dripping foam boob with a triumphant smile on his face. “I did it!”

He shoves the boob down the front of his suit and giggles like a schoolgirl at the round spot on his chest.

Jeremy looks at me, and I shake my head.

“Dude, have a beer and lighten up. Get laid or something.” He smacks my stomach and walks off. If I’m being honest, he’s the better one to leave alone. Only the devil knows where Brendon is and what he’s getting himself into.

I scan the street again and catch a flash of short red hair. Hustling toward it, I find Brendon dancing with a chick dressed like Barbie and a Ken doll is grinding against his ass.

Does this cross the flirt but don’t touch rule? I’m not entirely sure. Part of me likes watching him enjoy himself. It’s erotic, the way his body moves while sandwiched between them. His hands on her waist, guiding her to arch the way he wants while the man behind him does the same. If I were dancing with him, I wouldn’t get to see it like this.

Opening my camera app, I record him for a few minutes. The knowing smile on his face and the carnal sway of his body.

His head turns, and our eyes lock. The smile turns into a smirk, and he grinds into the guy harder. It’s sexier than I expected, to be teased like this. No one knows we’re married, not even Jeremy and Preston. It’s no one’s business what we’re doing in the privacy of our room, but it also means that I can’t walk up to him right now and own his mouth the way I want to.

The bastard knows it too.

It’s like he’s edging me, and if I’m being honest with myself, I kind of love it. The buildup of sexual tension that will at some point burst into mind-numbing pleasure. It has to give in at some point, right?

I’m not sure why Brendon seems hesitant to have sex, but he also doesn’t seem to want to talk about it. Orgasms are great in any form, but I kind of expected to fuck more once we got the first time out of the way.

I stop recording and lean against the house with my arms crossed. Brendon leans down like he’s going to kiss the girl’s neck while keeping eye contact with me. I lift an eyebrow and square my shoulders. He smiles like he’s won a prize and pulls back.

Jackass.

I’m going to make him pay for that later. He better not be wasted when we get back.

I wave him over, and he excuses himself from his dance partners and gallops toward me like a damn horse.

“What’s up, Pauly boy?” He wags his eyebrows at me with a shit-eating grin splitting his lips.

“Don’t get too drunk. You owe me tonight.”

Brendon steps in a little closer, and his demeanor changes from excitement to sex.

“Yeah? You gonna give me your ass?” he asks quietly, and my eyebrows rise in surprise for a minute.

“Maybe.” I drag my eyes down his body, desperately wishing I could feel him against me right now.

Brendon snorts and slides his hands around my back, then down my back to cup my ass under the cape. I quickly scan the area, but no one is paying us any attention. I hate that I feel the need to hide this, to hide him, but I’m not ready.

“I promise to make it feel good.” His lips brush my skin, sending goose bumps across my body.

“I want to suck you so bad right now,” I growl.

Brendon nips at my neck quickly and steps back. “Follow me.”

He turns and heads into the darkness behind one of the houses. The backyards are decorated, but there’s shadows past where the lights shine. Behind a tool shed, I push his back against the wall and take his mouth in a hot, demanding kiss. He moans for me, opening quickly to let me own him. I’m hard in a matter of seconds, grinding against him. The slick fabric of the costumes making it so fucking easy to slide.

“Fuck,” he whimpers when I wrap my hand around him through the material.

“You wanna come, Little Menace?” I nip at the skin of his neck, careful not to leave any marks.

“Please,” Brendon begs as his fingers flex on my arms.

I pull on the Velcro keeping the costume closed and pull it down his body, surprised when I find a red jockstrap.

Brendon bites his lip and smiles at me when I groan. I reach out a trembling hand and feel my way around his bare hip and ass cheek.

“Fuck my throat, baby. Come in my mouth so I’m full of you.”

Brendon shivers, and I drop to my knees in the grass. Lifting the pouch, his balls and cock are released. I run my nose along the crease between his thigh and groin, inhaling the musky smell of him. The short red hairs tickle my skin, and I stick my tongue out to taste him. Brendon runs his hand into my hair and tugs just enough to tell me he’s impatient. I smirk up at him and lick a line up the underside of his cock.

“Mmmm,” I groan before sucking the head into my mouth.

“Fuck,” he mewls, his hips bucking off the wall. “Please. I need to come.”

Wrapping a hand around his dick, I stroke him in tandem to working him over with my tongue. I switch between sucking on him and lapping at him like a fucking ice cream cone. He thrusts into my mouth, his hand stills in my hair, and I love watching him from my position. Looking up his body, seeing him roll his hips and the clenching of his muscles as he fucks into me.

“Your cum is mine. You understand me?” Saliva drips down my chin, and I scoop some up with my fingers and watch him closely as I find his crack. He widens his feet, and I swirl the wetness around his hole.

He groans and shudders, his breathing getting heavy.

I get more saliva and push the tip of my finger into his hole, and he comes without warning.

“Shit fuck shit,” he breathes out, almost panicked sounding as the bitter taste of his cum fills my mouth. I choke on it, some falling from my lips before I manage to swallow it. “I’m sorry,” Brendon pants, and I chuckle, wiping the mess from my face with my hand onto the grass.

“It’s okay.” I lick my lips and wipe my face to remove any lingering cum and saliva. “That was hot as fuck.”

I stand and help him back into his costume, patting his now soft dick, and he hisses. Once he’s dressed again, I lean into him and run my nose along his.

“I like the way you taste.”

There’s a strange look on his face that I can’t read.

“What?”

He chews on his lip for a second. “I like when you cum on me, mark me with it.”

I smirk at him. “Good. I want to come on your face, your chest. Everywhere.”

Someone laughs loudly, and we jump at the unexpected sound.

“We’ve been back here a while,” I say and adjust myself to hopefully hide my hard-on a little. “Stay out of trouble. You owe me an orgasm.” I grip his jaw and kiss him quickly, then step out of the shadows. He damn near cackles as I walk away from him to find Jeremy. Hopefully, he hasn’t found too much trouble either.

I find Carpenter, and we grab beers as we watch the bad decisions being made around us. Over the sounds of the different movie scores playing, it’s mostly laughter we can hear. A shout every once in a while, or a moan that carries on the wind, but we both know that the coaches for all the active sports teams will be hard on players tomorrow while everyone is hungover. I wish them all the best of luck.

Jeremy steps up next to us eating a full-sized KitKat. “Sup?”

“You’re going to give yourself a stomachache.” I shake my head at him. “Your roomie gonna rub your belly for you?” Like I do for Brendon . . .

Carp points to Jeremy’s crotch. “What the fuck is that?”

I look too and snort at the squishy boob that looks like he shoved it into his underwear.

Jeremy looks down too and curses. “The stupid thing won’t stay. I need a bra.”

Carp sighs heavily and takes a drink of his beer while Jeremy shimmies around trying to get it to fall down one pant leg.

“It’s stuck,” he complains. “Get it, Paul.”

“Excuse me?” I meet his gaze. “You want me to shove my hand up your pants to grab your boob?”

“That is the most ridiculous sentence I think I’ve ever heard.” Carp laughs.

“Come on! I look like I’ve got an infected nut or something!” Jeremy argues.

“Did you swap brains with Oiler?” Carp asks.

“I swear to fuck,” I mumble under my breath and hand Jeremy my beer to hold. He takes it, and I squat down. Pushing his pant leg up as much as I can, I force my hand into the fabric and feel around for the boob. “How did this shit become my job? Where’s Preston?”

I’ve barely gotten my fingers on the foam toy when Jeremy crashes into me, bending my wrist at a weird angle and jerking my shoulder while dumping my beer down my back. My elbow hits something hard, and Jeremy ends up sprawled on top of me with his legs on either side of my head.

“What the fuck?!” I holler, trying to get my arm out of Jeremy’s pants.

“Hey there, buddy . . .” Brendon’s voice filters through the pain and surprise, and I sag onto the ground. “Whatcha doing there?”

“Get the fuck off me!” I smack Jeremy’s ass hard, and Brendon giggles. No shit, giggles!

“Can you let go of my nuts, please?” Jeremy whimpers in pain, and I immediately release whatever I was holding.

“My bad.”

“That’s not what you said yesterday,” Brendon singsongs. Jesus, he’s so drunk.

My face heats as Jeremy stifles a laugh, and Carp raises an eyebrow at me.

“Shut the fuck up, Brendon,” I grit out through clenched teeth. “Get off!”

He laughs again, dropping his head onto Jeremy. “I already did.”

I’m going to strangle him.

Carp sighs again and puts his beer down, then lifts Brendon off Jeremy who stands so I can pull my arm from his damn pants.

Brendon is leaning into our captain, laughing so hard he can’t stand up straight. Bastard. Jeremy is blushing and rubbing his junk while pointedly not looking at me.

“Are you two done causing trouble now?” I huff out, rubbing my shoulder.

“It’s still early!” Jeremy whines, fixing his pant leg and finally getting the boob free.

Brendon reaches down and snags the squishy before Jeremy can and steals it.

“Dude! Give me my boob back!” Jeremy hollers, rushing Brendon who holds it up above his head.

“I grabbed it! It’s mine!”

Jeremy jabs Brendon in the armpit with his fingers, causing Brendon to scream and drop his arm so Jeremy can grab the squishy, but Brendon won’t let go, so Jeremy bites him.

“I swear you two are toddlers.”

Carpenter laughs and slaps me on the back, which makes a wet sound thanks to the beer.

“Yeah, I’m out, guys. I’m not wearing a beer-soaked costume the rest of the night.”

Brendon and Jeremy stop fighting over the boob for a minute to look at me.

“Just take it off then.” Brendon shrugs like that’s the obvious answer.

“I’m not walking around in just my underwear.”

“But you have such a cute butt,” Brendon argues. “The world deserves to enjoy it.”

“You three are the strangest trio I’ve ever met.” Carpenter laughs and walks off. “Good luck!”

Fucker.

“You want my costume?” Brendon offers, pulling on the fabric until the Velcro rips open.

“No!” I say quickly, knowing what he has on underneath. No one gets to see him in that jockstrap but me. No. One.

“Aww, are you trying to protect my virtue?” He pats my cheek, and Jeremy snorts.

“Little late for that, isn’t it?” Jeremy smacks Brendon’s ass, and a growl emanates from my throat without my meaning to. Brendon drags his teeth over his bottom lip while Jeremy turns around with a confused look on his face.

“Is there a dog here or something? Did you hear that?”

I swear alcohol lowers his IQ to a negative number.

“You guys shouldn’t be left here without supervision, and I need to change.” I snap my fingers, trying to get their attention, and redirect the conversation.

“So go change and come back!” Brendon pinches my cheek. “We’ll be fine.” He leans in so Jeremy can’t hear his next words. “But make sure you don’t get rid of that costume; we’ll need it later.”

“Then why don’t you just come with me now?” I pin him with a look, and his cheeks turn pink.

“I gotta get myself a boob.” The seriousness of that statement is impressive.

I huff out a deep sigh and concede. “Fine, I’ll be back in twenty minutes.” I hand him his phone. “Don’t lose this!”

“Yes, Daddy.” Brendon rolls his eyes and takes the device, then grabs Jeremy and disappears into the crowd.

I’m going to kill him.

After rushing back to the dorms to change and wipe off some of the beer, I’m back at the block party that’s even busier now than when I left. Finding my dumbasses in this mess is going to be a challenge.

I check the bob for boobs station and don’t see them, so I wander around, following the bright lights that they surely hopped to. A few of the guys from the team are shot-gunning shots, Riggs, our youngest player, is doing a chocolate-eating contest and already looks ready to puke, but no Brendon or Jeremy.

The longer I look, the more concerned I become. Do I actually think they’ll get themselves in real trouble? Kind of? Streaking is not out of the question for Brendon, and if he does it, Jeremy will probably join in. Pass out in a corner somewhere? Definitely. But I don’t think they’ll break windows or anything like that.

But with as drunk as they both are, I can easily see Brendon making out with some random person. That thought flares jealousy in my gut. He’s mine. I’m not sharing him. Watching him flirt is one thing, but actually touching? Kissing? No, dammit.

I’ve made a round, weaving in and out of partiers and stepping around vomit, and don’t see either of them.

I don’t think he would actually hook up with anyone, but it’s always a fear. I trust him, but I don’t trust that I’m enough.

Not being enough is a theme in my life. I wasn’t enough to make my dad stay present after Mom died. My girlfriend in high school bounced the day before senior year started because she found someone else. I’ve lost more friends than I can count over the years. It will kill me if Brendon decides to walk away too.

I start checking the backyards, getting frustrated when I can’t find either of them and stomp my way to the next one. Rounding a corner, I finally find Brendon being pulled into a house by a girl in a pink wig.

What the fuck?

My heart sinks as the door closes and he disappears inside. Do I follow them inside and see for sure what is happening or let my imagination play out? If he fucks her or gets his dick sucked, is that a mental image I really want? Would he really do that, though? Even drunk, it’s hard to imagine.

I want to know the truth.

With a weight on my shoulders, I make my way to the back door and enter. It’s dark in here, of course, but it doesn’t take me long to find the back of Brendon’s red head in the kitchen. He’s leaned his ass against the counter, and I can just make out the top of the girl’s head as she bobs on his dick.

Fuck this.

Anger and betrayal have me spinning on my heel to leave the house, slamming the door on my way out. Tears prickle the backs of my eyes, and there’s a sharp pain in my chest that I can’t rub away. It’s piercing like a spear straight into my heart and electrified. Even though I saw it, I can’t wrap my head around it. I thought I meant more to him than this.

It’s agony, being disposable. Especially when you love someone with everything you are. How am I supposed to go back to just being friends? Bury my feelings in a lead-lined coffin? Pretend like I didn’t see anything and see what he does? I can’t.

My chest and shoulders are tight with the urge to cry, but I refuse to let myself out here in public. Once I’m safe in my dorm room, all bets are off, but for now I have to keep it together.

Why can’t you just let me love you the way you deserve? Are you as scared of this as I am?

I’m back around the front of the house when I stop and lean against it. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and hold it, forcing my mind to clear.

If someone asked me if I thought Brendon would cheat on me, the answer would be a resounding no. Did I see Brendon, my Brendon, or someone who looks like him in the dark?

Spinning back around, I run back to the kitchen, barging through the back door, yelling his name. The girl screams and jumps, grabbing onto the man’s legs for balance.

“Get the fuck off him!” I demand, pushing her back when she stands up. Turning to him, I grab his costume and realize it’s not Brendon.

My eyes track over this man’s face, like I can’t believe what I’m seeing. From the back, he looks exactly like Brendon, even from the side, but the relief coursing through me almost takes my knees out.

The guy shoves me back, and I mumble an apology before leaving the house and replaying the scene over and over in my head.

Blindly, I stumble across campus and somehow make it back to the dorm where I strip out of my clothes and hiss at the pain in my shoulder from the movement. That’s going to be a bitch tomorrow. I find the bottle of pain reliever and swallow them, then drop onto my bed.

Where the fuck is my husband?