Page 18

CHAPTER 18

NATE

River curls up beside me, practically sitting on my lap when the villain pops out and slashes into a hot girl’s chest. Slasher movies are my favorite. Hot chicks, tons of blood, and the stereotypical virgins getting spared.

What’s not to love?

River’s hand is on my thigh, inches from my cock, and fuck…

Am I getting hard?

I had sex like ten times in the past twenty-four hours. My needs are more than satiated. Yet, as his fingers drift closer, my cock jerks. It senses him the way it would pussy, which is so damn confusing.

Fuck, fuck, fuck .

He must notice because he glances down at the bulge in my dark gray joggers, eyes wide. It’s hard to miss and aimed straight at him like a missile. Even in the dark, you can see I’m turned on… by him.

What is happening?

It’s not like I hadn’t asked River for a handjob when I was in a jam—or made hockey porn for him. There was also that time I jerked him off while he watched gay porn and came on his ass.

This is normal, right?

Typical River and Nate.

On some of my darkest days, hands shaking and dying for an orgasm, River has helped me out.

A hand is a hand.

Right?

River pulls back and whispers, “You okay?”

“Yeah.”

I tap my fingers on my knee to steady my nerves, wondering if he can hear the rapid thumping of my heart.

Fuck, no .

I’m not okay.

I hate this fucking addiction. If I could kick my habit, I would. For most people, sex is a normal part of their lives. But for me, it’s all-consuming.

Every second of the day, I think about bending women over things. Anything, really. A water fountain. A desk. On all fours in the dirt. I could give two fucks how we do it as long as I get to come.

My fantasies are endless.

Mini movies in my head.

We’re in the back row against the wall. The closest people are sitting below us in the orchestra section. So, I grab my cock over my sweats. A chill rolls down my arms, spreading to my toes. It feels so fucking good just to touch myself.

“Nate,” River whispers in my ear, and the heat of his breath on my skin does something strange to me.

I shove my hand into my pants, and he grabs my wrist.

“What the fuck, Nate? You just had sex a few hours ago.”

I love having sex in public places hence how we ended up screwing a frat boy’s girlfriend in a closet before moving to the bedroom for the grand finale. Nights like those I barely remember the next day. I blackout from the drugs or alcohol, but sometimes from having a lot of orgasms. And my trust fund suffers for it.

When I look at River, I want to say, Well, if you didn’t jump onto my lap like a scared little bitch and make me harder than steel, I wouldn’t be thinking about jerking off in public .

Instead, I say, “I’m horny. Can you blame me?” I tip my head at the screen. “That girl was giving it good until she got her throat cut.”

“You need help.”

I cup my balls and groan. Fuck, it feels incredible. I just need to touch myself for a few more seconds…

“And you need to shut up. I keep a lot of secrets for you, Riv. I even make you fucking porn.”

He shakes his head. “Please don’t ruin today for me. I’ve been looking forward to it all week.”

The more he stares at me, the harder my dick gets. It’s painful, the ache spreading to my balls. Last night, I needed to see him to get an erection, which is super fucked up. An all-time low for me.

River.

River.

River.

He’s on my mind all the time.

Needing to understand this new addiction, I grab his hand and stuff it down my pants. Just to see if he will freak out. He never has. Not even the first time I asked him for a handy. I was so drunk and sloppy, muttering my words.

But he said yes.

He always does.

I wonder if he’d blow me.

Wait. What?

I’m horny and desperate and not above begging.

“Please, Riv.”

River’s hand cups my dick over my boxer briefs. We stare into each other’s eyes, and I feel… I don’t know.

A spark?

What is wrong with me?

My addiction has taken a new turn—a slow descent into madness. I can’t lose my best friend over this. Yet, I can’t stop myself.

“I need you,” I whisper into the crook of his neck. “Please, Riv.”

He smells good. His cologne is spicy and manly. Beneath that, I catch a hint of clean linen and a fresh musk. I slide my hand up his thigh, unable to stop myself, burrowing my face in his neck and grinding against his hand.

“What do you want from me?” River says the words softly in my ear. “Huh? Say it, Nate. Tell me what you want.”

Oh God .

Fuck me .

“I want you to make me… come. Please.”

“What about me?”

I lift my head from his shoulder. “What about you?”

Disgusted by my response, River scoffs and removes his hand from my pants. He jumps out of his chair and barrels down the steps toward the exit.

Fuck, what have I done?

One day, River will leave me. He’ll decide he’s had enough of my bullshit and walk away for good. But I won’t let him quit me.