AllFreeNovel
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It’s early afternoon and the sun is bathing the room—my favorite, by the way, with the way it juts out over the lake showcasing the floor-to-ceiling windows on two sides and a massive deck with a mile-long view on the other—in a warm summer glow.
Nolan, who is lounging on an easy chair with a beer in his hand, raises his bottle. “I’m in,” he says.
His words aren’t the least bit slurred, even though he’s been drinking straight through since last night’s bash.
“And then, yeah,” he continues, agreeing with me, “we’ll start getting ready for camp.”
Despite his ability to suck down alcohol like a fish, Nolan hasn’t veered too far off course. Getting back on track won’t be hard for him. He’s like Mr. Discipline. And he’s not fooling anyone, anyway. I caught him working out in my basement gym a few days ago. With the way he was pumping iron I suspect he’s been training consistently for a few weeks now.
There’s still not been a response from Benny, which is unusual. Dude’s always up for a party. He’s probably the worst of us when it comes to out-of-control antics.
And that’s saying a lot.
“Hey, where’s Benny?” I ask Nolan as I scan the shadows of the room.
He nods to a sofa that’s been pushed way-ass off to a far corner.
“Oh, I should’ve known.” I chuckle as I take in an eyeful.
Benny is sprawled out on a sofa in the shadows, sleeping like a baby. His massive chest is rising and falling in perfect rhythm with the ticking clock on the stone mantel above his head. Some puck bunny he was fucking around with last night is with him, passed out on top of him.
The sheet covering their naked bodies is hiked up just enough to afford a view of the girl’s creamy thigh, which is casually slung over my linemate’s muscular, hairy-as-hell leg, and positioned under his semi-exposed junk.
Chuckling at Benny’s total lack of modesty, I pick up a throw pillow and lob it at his head—the one that clearly controls all his thinking.
And he scores!
As the pillow makes contact—and how could it not with a pole like that marking my target?—the sheet falls off completely. I get a quick flash of perky tits and tiny ass. And then, shit—a big honking piece of man-meat assaults my eyes.
“Dude,” I snort, mock-offended. “You need to cover that shit before you blind us all.”
Benny stirs to life. Sitting up, he barks, “What the fuck, Oliver? I was having the best dream ever. That is till you started tossing shit at my balls. ”
Nolan lets out a low chuckle. “Only you, Benny, could find a way of using ‘tossing’ and ‘balls’ in the same sentence. But really”—he tilts his bottle to Benny’s dick—“you need to do what Brent said and cover that shit up.”
Throughout this entire brain-draining exchange, the girl wakes up. And damn, she looks young. Letting out a little squeak, not unlike a hamster, she gathers the sheet around her naked self and scurries off to where she seems to think the bathroom is.
I only know this ’cause she’s muttering something about having to pee. But the poor girl has no idea where to go. Hamster-girl flies past me, heading down the wrong hallway, the one that leads to my bedroom.
As I rush to retrieve her, I can’t help but grumble, “Why in the hell do they always think the damn bathroom’s downmyhall?”
I catch up to and redirect the girl, pointing her in the correct direction. “It’s that way, sweetheart,” I say in my kindest tone.
No need to be an asshole; the poor thing already looks shell-shocked. Though whether that’s due to waking up in a strange house or waking up next to that monstrous thing Benny calls a cock, I have no clue.
“Thanks, Mr. Oliver,” she replies.
And then she runs off.
“Mr.Oliver?” I shake my head. “What the fuck is up with that? If she thinks I’m old and I’m only twenty-two, then…”
Whoa, wait.
Hurrying back out to the living room and pointing an accusatory finger at Benny, I say, “That chick better be over eighteen, dude. We’re in enough trouble already with the team.”
Benjamin Perry is twenty-eight, but he likes younger girls. Nothing illegal, so don’t get your panties in a bunch. He just happens to favor babes who either look young, or arejustold enough.
“She’s twenty-three,” he replies, sounding hurt by my accusation.
