Page 9 of Sour Candy (Sour Candy #1)

Benji felt weird.

Good , to be sure. He was even humming when he got on the bus, swinging his pasta bag so wide he accidentally smacked the bus driver with it on the way past.

But there was also this little shard of weird sitting right in his chest, harshing the happy glow of good sex and imminent money.

Benji hugged the plastic bag of takeout pasta.

Maybe he should’ve let Noah do aftercare for a while longer.

He thought he’d been fine, but now he was feeling shaky.

Raw. Embarrassed . Even when he tried to remember the way Noah had looked at him, no trace of disgust or amusement anywhere, he couldn’t budge that little bit of him that told him he’d just made an idiot out of himself.

Benji sucked in a deep breath, trying to remember what the high school guidance counselor told him.

She was in over her head with his dead mom and aunt and useless dad and having to take care of his baby brother and almost getting kicked out of school for that stupid fistfight in English class that wasn’t his fault, but she wasn’t a complete waste.

Her breathing exercises worked sometimes, if he could be bothered to use them.

He blew the breath out slowly. The little shard of weirdness didn’t budge.

Benji told it to suck eggs and die. He’d had a good time.

The guy was nice to him through everything, and he wasn’t going to get evicted.

Hell, if this really did turn into a regular thing, he could even afford to buy Max a decent Christmas present this year. Wins all around!

Breathing exercises weren’t working. Benji squirmed against the stiff bus seat, trying to bring back the immense peace he’d felt while he was lying in Noah’s arms. He’d felt…

safe. Like nothing bad could ever touch him while Noah held him, whispering things that made Benji blush just remembering them.

For some reason, he could picture getting pounded with a straight face, but thinking about Noah telling him he did a good job made him have to cross his legs.

That little shard of weird was still niggling at him when he walked into class ten minutes early.

Mr. Frizzle wasn’t even here yet, which should’ve filled Benji with vicious pride, but instead just made him wonder if he’d walked into the wrong room.

Then he saw Dillion Thomas, a disgraced trust fund baby in a too-tight polo shirt, snapping gum in the front seat.

Dillion broke out in an irritating frat-boy grin. “Look at you! I didn’t know you knew what an 8 a.m. class was , dude.”

“I’ve heard of them,” Benji said icily, heading to the back. He didn’t want to deal with that smarmy dick any day, let alone this early.

Dillion popped his gum. “Isn’t that yesterday’s shirt? You get laid last night, BJ?”

Benji paused on the stairs to shoot him an incredulous glare. “Don’t call me BJ. And what the fuck? Since when do you keep track of my shirts?”

“Since you show up in yesterday’s one,” Dillion said with another cocky grin that made Benji want to slam those straight white teeth into the desk.

His phone vibrated as he dropped the plastic bag of pasta under a desk. He yanked it out of his pocket, throwing a fist up in success.

You have received a deposit from Noah S.

“Hell yeah, I have,” Benji muttered, ignoring the curious look Dillion gave him. He clicked into it and scrolled to the bottom to see the amount. “Come on, be enough for rent.”

He reached the bottom of the page and froze. He refreshed the page. The number stayed the same: eight thousand dollars. That was… enough for rent. It was also enough for the plumber who was coming soon. It could get him a new car , if he wanted. A shitty one, but still.

Benji made a beeline for the door.

“Where’s the fire?” Dillion called.

Benji flipped him the bird on his way out. He almost bumped into Mr. Frizzle in the doorway, who gave Benji a double-take and then a glare as he charged past.

“Yeah, yeah,” Benji called back, striding through the halls toward the nearest bathroom. He barged in, checked the stalls—thankfully empty—then scrolled through his contacts, his hands shaking.

Noah answered on the third ring. “Hello. Is this about your plug?”

“My—?” Benji slapped himself in the forehead, curling in on himself in mortification. He’d left his butt plug at his sugar daddy’s place. How was this his life ?

“Oh god,” Benji hissed. “I’m so sorry. I’m an idiot.”

“It’s okay, I didn’t remember either,” Noah said. “I can drop it off. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Benji blurted. He rested his forehead on the cool mirror, next to a cartoon scribble of a rabbit that had… He looked over. Yep, that was a giant dick and balls. Gotta love a public bathroom.

Noah waited. Benji wondered where he was. Still at his apartment? In his car, on the way to work? Did he drive, or did he have a driver? He seemed rich enough to have a driver.

“It’s just…” Benji said, finally. “Did you know you gave me eight thousand dollars?”

“I had an inkling,” Noah said dryly.

“Did you give me that much on purpose?”

“I did.”

Benji snorted. He was smudging the mirror with his sweat, forehead squeaking against the glass. “That is professional money, man. I’m just a schlub! I’m not complaining, I’m—I’m just— Are you serious? That was my second blowjob ever .”

Noah paused. “Your second?”

“Yeah, man! Why do you think I needed the—” Benji grimaced, looking around the mercifully empty bathroom. “The dildo practice?”

“Why was it only your second? You liked it well enough.”

Mortification flooded through him, hot and sharp. His cock jerked in his boxers as he remembered just how intimately Noah knew how much he liked it. God, he’d come all over his leg .

“I wasn’t popular in high school,” Benji squeaked, desperately trying to will his half-hard cock to go soft. “I don’t know, dude, what do you want me to say?”

“I think your wording was, ‘Why don’t you walk into a party and take your pick?’”

Benji barked a laugh, the harsh noise echoing off the tiles. “Look, I know you’re into gangly, loud, and rude, but not everyone is!”

“Their loss,” Noah said quietly.

Benji bit his cheek. He wanted to tell Noah that he’d never trusted anyone enough to let them see him so vulnerable.

That he was so relieved Noah had come along and finally made Benji’s brain shut up long enough to get fucked.

That even if Noah changed his mind and never called Benji again, Benji would treasure that night for the rest of his days.

But Benji was a coward, so he did none of that. He just stood there, sweating up the bathroom mirror, hoping like hell no one would come in and witness him half-hard and freaking out down the phone to his sugar daddy.

Noah asked, “Other than forgetting your butt plug at my place, how’s your day going?”

Benji didn’t even consider telling him about the little shard of weird that had been niggling at him since he walked out of his apartment.

“Fine,” he said. “Class is about to start. Teacher still hates me. How’s yours?”

“Busy. Can I see you again tomorrow?”

Benji startled. Noah still wanted to see him after all of this? Maybe he had a thing for almost-virgins.

“Okay,” he said. Then he hissed. “Wait, shit. I’m going to see a movie with Max. Uh, my brother. He’s seen it already, but they’re doing another screening because the sequel is coming out soon. But after that? Eight? I could come around to yours?”

“Eight sounds great,” Noah said. “And Benjamin?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t get yourself ready this time. I want to do that.”

Benji’s mouth went dry. His cock throbbed in his unwashed boxers, his sore hole twitching in anticipation. He thought back to Noah’s sultry voice telling him how he wanted to finger him open as he worked the plug in and out.

“Okay,” Benji croaked.

“Good,” Noah said smoothly. “See you tomorrow night.”

He was going to hang up, Benji realized with a sudden panic.

“Wait,” he blurted.

Noah came back, concerned. “What is it?”

Benji wet his lips, looking away from his reflection. He could say it while looking at himself. “You-you liked it, right? I did good?”

There was a short silence in which Benji died a hundred tiny deaths, and not in a fun way. Fists clenched, sweat slicking his spine, dying of embarrassment as the words echoed off the grimy bathroom around him.

Then Noah’s voice washed over him, hot and soothing. “You were amazing, baby. I’m so glad I found you.”

It crackled through him like electricity. The words were still ringing in his ears when the line went dead, Benji’s hands trembling as he fumbled his phone into his pocket.

He was hard. He’d come less than an hour ago, and he was hard enough to pound nails, his cock pulsing against his jeans.

“Shit,” Benji whispered. He cupped himself over the denim, groaning. He wasn’t going to do it. He was going to splash his face with cold water until he calmed down. Then he was going to go to class and pretend like it was a normal morning.

Five seconds later, he slid a stall lock into place, cheeks burning. He’d had sex for money last night; what was a casual jerk-off in a bathroom stall?

He yanked his cock out, stripping it fast. Thinking about how good Noah had felt inside him last night, how solid he’d felt as he pressed Benji into the mattress.

The thick bulge in the middle of his cock.

His teeth on Benji’s chest, biting down.

His wide, blunt fingers. His cologne, smokey and warm, just as comforting as the rest of him.

His eyes, caramel and deep enough to drown in.

Watching Benji like he wanted to eat him up.

Even in the elevator on the way up to his apartment, before he’d even touched Benji.

Would he have fucked Benji in the elevator if he had asked?

Pulled the emergency brake, stripped him naked right there and?—

Benji came all over the stall door, his fist stuffed in his mouth to smother his whimpering.

It was only when he was walking back into class that he realized the shard of weirdness was gone.

It had been dying during that whole phone call, just listening to Noah talk.

Then it had dissolved when Noah told him he was amazing.

Mr. Frizzle glared at him across a PowerPoint presentation as he came in two minutes late. Dillion tried once more to meet his eyes.

Benji barely noticed either of them. He couldn’t even bring himself to be nervous about Daphne’s curious grin as he sat down next to her.

“ You’re less late than usual,” she whispered, plucking at his dirty shirt. “So? Was it a good date?”

“I can’t tell you anything,” Benji replied. Then he frowned, looking around the classroom at the few classmates who had bothered to show up. “Shit, where’s my pasta?”

“Your what?” Daphne looked at him pleadingly. “Come on! Was he nice? Did you get paid?”

Mr. Frizzle glared over at them. Benji flashed his crooked teeth at him and leaned over. “Eight thousand bucks.”

“What? What did you do ? How rich is he?”

Benji shushed her and stood. He’d spotted his pasta under a desk near the door.

“Ben Caulfield,” Mr. Frizzle barked. “Do you want to waste the class’s time even more, or do you want to sit down and pay attention for once in your life?”

Benji prickled. His knee-jerk reaction was to point out that this was an 8 a.m. class, and Mr. Frizzle was lucky any of them even showed up. His second reaction was to point out that Mr. Frizzle did an excellent job wasting their time already, so Benji wasn’t even needed.

Then something strange happened.

He just… didn’t give a shit. Maybe it was the endorphins from two incredible orgasms, maybe it was knowing he had eight thousand dollars in the bank, or maybe it was the calm that came from Noah’s steady voice.

Whatever it was, it made the defensiveness that reared up inside of him go to sleep again. Mr. Frizzle wasn’t a threat. He was just a jerk who needed to exert power over his students to feel something.

“Give me five seconds,” Beni said. “I’m just getting my pasta.”

Mr. Frizzle frowned. “Your what?”