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He let his backpack drop to the floor and jumped back. “Ooooh, close but no cigar. Better luck next time.”
I squinted my eyes and clenched my fists. “That’s it, Boone. You’re toast.”
Before I could do anything, he turned and ran into my bedroom. I gave chase and caught up with him at the foot of my bed and we went tumbling down, him flopping on his back, me landing on top of him. He cupped my ass with one hand and tangled the other in my too-long hair. “Hi,” he said and then pulled me down for a kiss.
I immediately melted against him and moaned as he pushed his tongue into my mouth and slid it against mine. When we finally separated, long minutes later, I tilted my head to the side and looked at him. “Did you plan this?’
“Me? Never.”
But he pulled my face down again, kissing me harder, and this time he rolled his hips up and pulled my ass forward, encouraging more friction.
“I thought you had to study,” I panted.
“Later,” he said.
I kissed my way across his jaw and over to his earlobe. “But your test.”
He thrust up, letting me feel his erection. “Charlie,” he whimpered. “I’m so hard.”
I almost came in my pants. “Oh, God,” I said. Then I buried my face against his neck and rolled my hips, giving us both what we needed.
Scott gasped, moving his torso up and down as he caressed my ass and said my name over and over again. I rutted against him, whimpering and sucking in air.
“Gonna,” I said. “Scotty, Scotty, I… gonna….”
“Me too.” He thrust up hard and held me in place as he shouted out, “Charlie!”
That was all it took for me to lose it. I clutched his shoulders and groaned as I coated my briefs.
“Oh, wow.” I let out a deep breath and settled on top of him, my muscles feeling warm and loose.
He petted the back of my head and combed his fingers through my hair. “Yeah,” he said. “Exactly.”
We lay together, our hearts beating in sync. I kissed and nibbled on his neck and ear. He massaged my nape and rubbed my back. It felt so good and so right, I was willing to deal with sticky underwear if it meant not having to move away from Scott.
“Charlie?”
I flattened my hands on either side of his shoulders and straightened my arms, raising my upper body so our eyes could meet. “Yeah?”
He grinned, reached up, and pushed my hair out of my face. “I might have planned it a little.”
Chapter 5
INTRODUCTION
Charlie (“Chase”) Rhodes
FAMILY is a funny thing. Our parents, our siblings, they’re always there, you know? Deep inside of us. We don’t choose them, we get mad at them, and sometimes we feel like we don’t want them. But we always, always need them.
I know guys who haven’t talked to their parents in decades, some because they passed and some because they’re bigoted pieces of shit. These guys are doing fine without Mom and Dad around. They have successful careers, great friends; some even have families of their own. But no matter what they’ve accomplished in their lives, no matter how many people are around who love and cherish them, there’s still an empty hole that long-gone family left behind that nobody else will ever fill.
Don’t get me wrong; it’s not like they’re crying into their soup every night. Like I said, they’re happy with their lives, with who they are, really happy. But no matter how old we get, no matter what we achieve, we always have that little kid we once were somewhere inside of us. And that kid, well, that kid can’t help but love his mother and father, and even that pesky sister or brother.
When it’s bad, family can wound you so deep, you’re sure healing from a combination herpes infection and skydiving accident would be easier. But when it’s good, when you feel that love and know it’s always going to be there, no matter what, when you have a strong net underneath you every day, ready to catch you if you fall; well, then there’s nothing better than having family. And that, my friend, is the thing about our parents and siblings, annoying though they might be—even if we don’t always like them, they’re ours and we can’t help but love them.
Which brings me to the next pictures I’m putting into the album—a collage of our families, mine and Scott’s. My mother worked a lot after my father left. She didn’t burden me with the details, but I pieced together some things—money that should have been going to bills went to girls and gambling, and by the time he walked out, there was nothing left except a huge amount of debt and a good dose of betrayal. But even though she was gone most of the time and exhausted when she was home, I always knew my mom loved me. Same with my older sister, Rachel. And given how much time I spent at Scott’s place, his mom and stepdad became almost like a second set of parents to me.
