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His cheeks flush and his Adam’s apple bobs. “Yeah, Ben. Me too.”
He disappears a moment later, and I stare down at my bag of toys lying on the ground. A dust bunny hops on by, clinging to the tip of an exposed dildo. Well, fuck. I’ll have to make sure nothing weird gets shoved up my hole later.
I bend down and gather everything up once more.
And as I do, my thoughts wander. Maybe I shouldn’t go over there tonight. Maybe I should stay away, give them space. They don’t seem interested in me right now anyways.
Maybe I’ll call Tatum and spend time with him instead. He always has a way of distracting me so I don’t slowly lose my mind.
I stare down at my phone, hoping that Ford and Cash will change my mind somehow, but they haven’t messaged me.
Well, okay, they have messaged, but it’s just generic conversation that they could write to anyone.
And I am not anyone.
I am Ben. Their Ben.
That has to mean something.
I huff, grabbing my stuff and rushing down to my crappy car, shoving everything into the trunk.
Yeah, fuck this. My mind is made up. I’m gonna go hang out with Tatum, andifI have time, I’ll go to Ford’s later.
Maybe.
I’ll teach them a lesson.
Teach them not to ignore me.
And my ass.
I call Tatum, already on my way to his place, only to find out that he’s actually somewhere else, but extends the invite all the same.
“Come hang with us, bro! This house is fucking killer!”
I end up driving across town, curious at what my friend’s gotten up to when I pull up to a giant mansion with a scary-looking gate. Are those gargoyles? Is that a sniper rifle?
A camera creaks as it swivels above me, and a man with a suit appears out of a guard house. He looks stern and a bit like a hitman.
I bet he’s packing more than that giant dick protruding from his slacks right now.
Bet he has a big one tucked in the back of his pants.
The thought makes my lips wobble.
“ID,” he barks, and I pull it out of my wallet, feeling suddenly nervous. What if they search my trunk and find the dildos?
What will they think? That I’m a dildo delivery driver? That I’m here to deliver them to the owner of this house?
Who is the owner?
For fuck’s sake.
The man’s eyes roam over my face, and he hands me my ID before asking me to pop my trunk.
Well, fuck.
I consider backing up and escaping, but it’s too damn late now. I end up doing what I’m asked, and when the man appears before me once more, he just nods.
