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“Ouch,” I say feigning offense, and she chuckles lightly. I grab my chest to emphasize my faux hurt. Even though I was actually in a mental hospital this summer, more or less. I’m not bothered by that part. Or any part really. Everything she says is true. I’m damaged goods.
She gives me this look like,you’re such a shit, but I love you.“No less than you deserve, you prince of darkness.”
I can’t help eyeing Cam to gauge his reaction. It’s just as I expect, a little shocked and confused, but also intrigued, which is dangerous for him. No, not dangerous. I’m not interested in Cam. He’s a guy. Why do I keep getting that mixed up? That’s how fucked-up I am. That’s all there is to it. I’ve crossed so many wires, and now I’m going on month three of no sex. Part self-inflicted punishment for being an asshole, part trying to avoid any fantasies that would make me want to act out.
Not even cranking it. I should be celebrating, but I don’t want to count my chickens and all that shit. I’m only lasting this long because I’m hiding from the real world. Hell, Nayla eats with me and walks me to class. I’m practically supervised every time I leave my room. Except for when I run, which is going to be my new thing. Maybe time to get some running shoes though, since my sneakers are still fucked, and I completely forgot to get a pair. Those sandals made my feet ache like hell.
“Hey, Cam?” Nayla asks as she pinches the skin along the underside of my arm absently.
“Yeah?” Cameron asks, turning back to her.
“You’re missing a closing bracket after the function statement. In case you didn’t notice.”
“Thanks,” he mutters in a defeated sound, and turns back to the monitor.
Cameron
Whatever got into Xander a few days ago day seems to have died down a little. He’s being less of a jerk face now, but still kind of weird. That guy is an enigma, in a bad way. I decide now. Which is why I want to figure him out even more.
Maybe the best way to do that is by talking to him, not staring at him in the middle of the night like a fricking creep. He’s making these weird noises though, like it’s a nightmare, or a good dream… I can’t tell. He definitely seems to be sleeping. And I’m barely even noticing that he’s in gray sweatpants with a big flagging boner. Nope, haven’t noticed that at all. Who doesn’t use sheets and a blanket? He’s likely some kind of sociopath, like Zack says.
But yeah, that tent in his sweats… my guts ache just looking at that thing.
I’m too inexperienced. That’s the problem.
If I had more experience with sex, I wouldn’t feel a damn thing about him. I probably need to find a guy and just ask already. Maybe that’s my problem, that I never ask for it? Do guys think I don’t want it because I’ve never been forthcoming about it? That’s something to consider.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Xander is having some sort of sex dream though. Either that, or he’s being chased by demons. Hell, maybe both. He could be a kinky guy. He strikes me as the type. I bet he likes to choke girls and shit like that. I bet he likes to hold someone down, and mount them… anddamn, that imagery is so not helping.
I palm myself under the blankets, resisting the urge to do it right here and now, because that’d be creepy. Right? Yes. Definitely. Right? Just checking.
“Ungh,” Xander moans as his head flops to the side and he juts his hips up into the air and then he shudders with pleasure.Jesus H.
Then he makes a loud exhale, a strangled moaning sound that goes straight to my belly. Is this a wet dream?
Seriously?Holy hell.What am I supposed to do right now, bury my face under my pillow? Pop in some ear buds? Leave the room for a few minutes? Probably, maybe, and yes. But before I can think for another second what to do, the moaning sounds stop, and I look away, just as I spot two piercing orange-brown eyes flick open at me.
Fuckity. Fuck. Fuck.
My breathing picks up without my permission and I will it to calm back down so that my chest isn’t rising and falling so obviously. Maybe that makes me look asleep though? Not if it’s that fast.
He’s standing. I can hear the telltale shifting and my eye squints open out of an abundance of caution. I mean, Xander is a wild card, and based on Zack’s warning, I’d be stupid not to keep an eye on him. In front of the dresser, he shucks his sweats and boxers, and I don’t need to keep looking at his perfect muscled ass. So I tear my eyes away.
I can hear as he slips on a new pair of boxers, and I brave a glance. He turns to face me. He looks… I don’t know how to say it. Crazed? Deranged? Angry? Curious? A mix of all of that. The corner of his mouth curls up. “Did you get a good look?”
I’m stunned into silence. Did he just say that to me?Shit.
The internet has warned me about shit like this, about how straight guys might react when you’re caught looking. Am I in the wrong? One hundred percent.
That’s a new place for me to be.
Xander does things to me that makes me act, well, not right. Plus he triggers my hero complex… that deep-down need take care of a lost boy and love him back to health.
He takes a few steps toward me until his knees are right at the spot where my hand is hanging off the bed. I want to pull it away, but I can’t make myself move.
“Well?” His voice is gravel. This close up, I can smell him even more intensely than usual. It’s the faint smell of his cologne that has mostly worn off by the end of the day, but still lingers in a way that makes me want to rub myself on him like a cat. Soak up all that scent onto me. Press my teeth into his skin and lap him, like he’s a bowl of milk.
I let out a shaky exhale because clearly, I am working myself up. And this is not the time to be lost in a fantasy. Xander is standing over me. Why is he standing over me?
