Page 10 of Along Came Summer

Of course, beating off every other night only gets you so much release. Sometimes a man craves the enchanting warmth and elegant softness of a woman's body trembling uncontrollably under him while begging him to drive deeper...

Fuck, I really do miss sex.

“If you’re not going for yourself, at the very least, go for me. You can fulfil the duties you’ve been selfishly neglecting as of late.”

“What duties?” I ask, my brows knitting as I pull the hair tie out and shake my hair loose from the bun it’s been in all day.

“Only the most crucial and honourable duty a man can be awarded.Wingmanduties, brother.”

Chuckling I reach back, grabbing hold of the collar of my wet t-shirt I tug it off before tossing it through the open window of my all-black Hennessy mammoth pick-up truck. “Nir, since when have you needed a wingman? You and I both know you don't even need to try. Besides, I think you may have already fucked all the girls on the island. I would know or do I need to remind you that we share a paper-thin wall?”

Niran cackles as he leans against the side of my truck, crossing his arms over his chest, looking every bit the arrogant player that he seems to have convinced himself that he is. Niran and I live in the same building, he's my neighbour and much to my dismay, Niran's bedroom is adjacent to mine, so I can pretty much hear everything as though he was shagging right there in my bedroom.

It's actually how we met and became friends. One week after I moved in, I quickly grew tired of listening to the high-pitched squeals of every girl he brought home. It would go on and on for hours, to the point I was deliberating kicking his door in and choking him out.

One night I threatened to put his head through the wall if he didn't keep it down or move his shagging to another room of his apartment, so I could get some sleep.

After that night, we became friends and I’ve not been able to get rid of the git. Despite his loud personality and philandering, Niran’s become a dear friend of mine… beyond that, he’s like a brother. The boy has a heart of gold and would move mountains for anyone he cares about.

When I moved to Thailand almost a year ago I didn't know anyone, and even though I threatened to pummel him that first week, he played a big part in helping me settle in by offering to show me around and introduce me to his circle of friends.

Never in a million years would I have ever seen myself being friends with him, but I suppose the best friendships are the ones that form unexpectedly, and ours was not only unexpected but dumbfounding, because we're not exactly two peas in a pod. Hell, our pods couldn't be more different, but I still love the idiot regardless.

Especially for what he does for me next…

* * *

“I swear to all that is good and pure if you do not get that dick of yours wet tonight I’m going to pull it off and slap you with it.” Niran expresses, grinning widely as we walk through the crowd of partygoers covered from head to toe in a disarray of neon paint.

Well, batten down the hatches! It looks like we’re in for a wild and messy ride tonight.

Even before we walked in, the bass of the music playing inside pulsates through the floor and travels through my body. The DJ is set up at the front of the venue, a crowd of at least a hundred people jumping and dancing along to a remixed version of ‘Push the feelin' on’.

We barely make it fifty feet into the venue before a group of young girls come bouncing over to us. “Niran!” one of them shouts over the music. “You came!” both girls cock the water guns they're holding in their hands and smile wickedly.

“Girls, don't you dare, this is Prada.”

I look down at his shirt and frown, “You wore Prada to a neonpaintparty?” I ask incredulously, and he gives me a sidelong stare.

“What? Whatever the occasion, Niran Chen always looks his best.” He responds haughtily, and I snort a laugh.

“Yeah, well, your seven-hundred-dollar shirt is about to go from Prada to Nada, mate.”

“Come on Niran, you’re way too clean, we like it better when you’re dirty. Welcome to the Wet and Wild, baby!” Before I can comprehend what’s happening, I also have a toy gun in myface and I’m being gunned down with bright pink and green neon paint.

Bloody hell that's a new record right there. I thought it would have taken at least half an hour before Niran got jumped.

Not that I’m surprised. The boy is very good-looking, like a TV actor hot. With his jet-black hair and dark brown eyes. Niran stands about two inches shorter than me and has a lean and muscular physique. The type of body that belongs on the cover of sports magazines.

My arms shoot up to protect my eyes while the girls spray us both. “Whoa, hey!” I exclaim, turning away so they spray my back instead until they run out of paint. “Hold up, wait, wait, fuck I’m not drunk enough for this.” Niran's cackling beside me, holding his arm over his face.

“Oh girls, girls, you're mistaking us for a couple of gentlemen who will take it easy on you. Levi, shall we show them howundignifiedwe truly are, brother?” Niran grins mischievously, taking two paint guns off a guy that is walking by and handing him a wad of cash before he hands one over to me. I'm soaked in paint as I turn to face the two girls, both I want to say blonde, but it's hard to tell with all the colourful paint splattered in their hair. They look to be in their very early twenties. If I had to guess, foreign students here to study or they're here for a girls gone wild holiday. Neither of which are my type but fuck it, I'm fulfilling my wingman duties.

Might as well play along.

I cock my gun and smile. “Oh, by all means, lets.”

The girls take off squealing and we chase after them with our toy guns, shooting them as they duck and dive to dodge the spray of green and yellow paint.

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