Page 12 of Pride High 3: Yellow

“And you parents are still out?”

“With my sister, yeah. They used to drag us both along on their dates. I think it’s weird.”

She nodded, but not in interest. “And isn’t it around this time that Mamani takes her nap?”

“Yeah,” he said. Then his eyes got a little wider. “How come?”

Silvia shrugged. “Remember when you told Anthony that I gave you a blowjob?”

Omar squirmed. “Technically, I only let himbelievethat it was you, but I’m still really sorry about—”

She raised a hand to stop him. “I don’t want to talk about the things we never did. I want to do the things we’ve never really talked about.”

Omar squinted. “Huh?”

She tried again. “I want to make you an honest man.”

“Oh, so you would…” Omar went rigid. “Oh! For real?”

Silvia nodded. She grabbed one of the canvas chairs and dragged it closer to him. “Sit down,” she said.

“Yes, ma’am!”

She pretended to be thrilled over some unexpected discovery, and clutched her hands together in front of her chest. “Aren’t you Omar Jafari?” she said enthusiastically. “The big shot director that all of Hollywood is talking about?”

“Yes I am,” Omar said, making his voice sound deeper. “I suppose a beautiful young lady like you is hoping to land a role in my next movie.”

“No, I’m not here to sell myself,” Silvia said with a gentle shake of her head before she resumed her role. “I’m just an adoring fan who wants to express her appreciation for your art.”

“Then you’ll want my autograph,” Omar said, patting the pockets of his slacks. And the space between them. “Hmm. I know I have a big fat marker around here somewhere.”

“I can help you look,” Silvia said, getting down on her knees.

She slowly undid the buttons of his slacks, thinking of the handful of times they had gotten off in front of each other in recent weeks. She had even grabbed it once, while they were making out. This would be much more involved, and she didn’t know if she could do it right. But she was eager to try, because the hunger in his eyes had her seriously turned on.

“What’s your favorite movie of mine?” he asked while lifting his hips so she could shimmy his pants and boxers down.

“Record Store Girl,” she replied, referencing the project they had worked on together.

“That one came straight from the heart,” Omar said in a strained voice as she took hold of him.

That he managed to be sweet, even in the intensity of the moment, only made her love him more. Silvia smiled up at him before she leaned forward. Omar gripped the arms of his chair. Then he began stifling moans as Silvia slid a hand between her legs. Next year they could definitely skip the presents, because as far as she was concerned, this was amuchbetter way of expressing their affection for each other.

CHAPTER 3

February 14th, 1993

Ricky was increasingly confused as Diego drove them outside the city limits of Pride and into the darkness beyond. He glanced over, the thick features of his boyfriend’s face cast in crimson from the red dashboard lights, and was reminded of just how intimidating he could be. He looked like some sort of demon. A huge super-hot, leather-jacket-wearing devil who would have no trouble convincing Ricky to sell his soul, because even now, he was willing to let Diego take him anywhere he saw fit. Although when they turned down a country road that was little more than two faint tracks in a shadowy tunnel of trees, he began to have second thoughts.

“If you’re going to murder me out here,” Ricky said, “could you at least make it romantic?”

“How exactly would I do that?” Diego asked without dismissing the idea.

“I don’t know.” Ricky shrugged. “Maybe you’d say that I’ll always be a part of you and then kiss me just before the knife slides into my gut?”

Diego studied him a moment longer before returning his attention to the road—or lack thereof. “If anything, I should be scared of you.”

“Probably, because in all seriousness, it wouldn’t be the worst way to go.”