Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 88218 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88218 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“Research for us, dumbass.”
My heart skips a beat, but I tell it to calm down and not get ahead of itself. “Us …”
“Hey, you might’ve fantasized about being with guys—”
“You,” my stupid mouth says. “It’s only ever been you.”
His dark gaze holds mine for a beat before he turns back to the obnoxiously loud sex noises coming from his laptop. “Anyway, my point is, you know how there’s like all these sex acts you’ve never done, so you’re nervous to try them? I have no clue what guys do to get off with each other. I’ve never really thought about it. I actively tried not to think of Ryder’s and Harley’s sex lives because that’d be like thinking about my sister having sex, and eww.” He shudders.
I thought about ways I could get off with Mason every damn day for … well, years. I try to think back to when my view of him really started changing. It wasn’t an overnight thing. It was gradual until one day I realized I’d been checking out Mason’s ass for the fiftieth time that week, and I’d get butterflies whenever he so much as looked my way.
I clear my throat. “Getting off with a guy is not all that different than with a woman, and if you can’t think of the logistics on how to do that, I feel sorry for all the women you’ve been with.”
He snorts. “So do I, actually. You know what boy band sex was like. Wait, that sounds kinkier than it should.”
“Yeah, it was all pretty vanilla. It had to be.”
“Could you imagine what Vivian would’ve said if it leaked into the tabloids that one of us was a full-on Dom? Oh, the outcry!”
Vivian was our own personal PR tyrant. The one responsible for our manufactured personas and our good boy reputations.
“Yeah, the NDAs she handed out like candy were fun,” I say.
“Out of curiosity, if one of us was a Dom, who would it be?”
“I’m not touching that with a fifty-foot pole.”
“Who’d be a sub?” Mason asks but then as if he realizes his question is a no-brainer says with me, “Blake.”
Blake’s the type of guy who’ll go along with anything. I’m sure he was hooking up with just as many women as we were back in the day, but he was smarter about it. Never got photographed leaving with them, would never kiss and tell.
Mason goes back to the porn, watching intently, and I cannot make sense of anything that is happening. The sound of bodies slapping together weirds me out.
I go to the bar and pour myself a Coke. “Can you at least mute that?”
“Not doing it for you?”
I don’t think anything would do it for me right now. I can’t remember a time I’ve come so hard or without being touched since I almost lost my virginity on tour that first year. “Almost” being the key word in that sentence because I blew it. Literally.
Probably for the best anyway. It was with a fan, and I can’t even remember her name now. The Disney Channel’s it girl at the time wasn’t much better a month later, but at least I can say I know the person I lost my virginity to.
“Do you want a drink?” I ask. And yes, I’m avoiding his question. I’ve already said too much when it comes to my porn preferences.
“Sure, whatever you’re having.”
“Uh, I’m drinking Coke.”
“And whiskey?”
I sigh. “No.”
“Oh, so rum, then.”
“Are you being a dick on purpose?”
His face falls when he sees I’m being serious. “Wait, really? No alcohol?”
“None. I didn’t …” I take a deep breath. “I didn’t want to numb my feelings after … that.”
Never in a million years would I ever admit something like that to anyone. Except for Mason.
He stands from the couch and approaches me. He’s in sweats like me but is wearing one of his loose tank tops, and my gaze gets stuck on his muscular arms. I stay still, unsure what he’s going to say or do, but then his hand finds my hip, and his lips land on my cheek. “I’ll have Coke, then, too.”
“You’re allowed to drink in front of me. I’m not going to be upset if you do.”
“Are you sure?”
Mason’s always had this low-key disapproval when it comes to my issues with drinking, and I guess he has a right. I use it as a crutch, and he’s been there from when it started, but sometimes I get the impression he thinks I need rehab or some shit.
“I know you worry I’m some huge alcoholic and I’m always drunk, but I didn’t touch a drop while the contestants were here. I haven’t had any since the night before we turned up on your doorstep in Montana.”
He holds up his hands. “Okay, okay. You don’t need to get defensive. I want to support you, and if you’re deciding to be sober, then I’m proud of you. It threw me is all because I’ve never heard you turn down a drink.”