My jaw ticks, anger and frustration burning in my gut like the liquor I’ve been downing since I got here. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. You don’t know shit about my sex life.”
Avi simply smirks at me, like he does, and whispers, “Then what are you so afraid of?” He inches in closer. “Worried you might see my dick and feel compelled to—”
“Fuck off, Avi,” I snarl. “Or I’ll record my own video of me beating you into the ground and sell it to World Star.”
As usual, he doesn’t back down, and it has me raging like a goddamn hurricane inside.
“Just think about all that money you’re giving up because you’re too scared to throw down with me in the room…” His grin widens.
“I’m not scared of shit,” I hiss. “I just don’t want you trying to touch me like the creepy little pervert you are.”
“This is alreadysohot,” Frankie whispers. “Do you mind if I record the build-up for bonus content?”
I shoot a seething glare in her direction. My mind is telling me torunout of this room as fast as possible. Get the fuck away from this situation and find some other way to make the money I need.
But when I take a breath and actually think about it… I know that shy of selling drugs or theft, there’s no immediate way to get this kind of cash this fast thatdoesn’trequire doing something sexual you might not want to do.
So with my mind on the money and the money on my mind, I grit my teeth and sigh, “I’m gonna go get shit-faced. We’ll meet back here when I’m so drunk I can barely process what the fuck I’m doing.”
And then I storm out of the room, on a mission to locate enough booze to get me through this nightmare.
Anyone know where I can find an Olympic-size pool filled with SoCo?
BalsamicVin23: foot pics? Will pay.
TaintedLove: Fill me like a Twinkie Daddy
Your_Dirty_Kitty: I need your naked bodies more than I need oxygen rn
On the edge. I’m standing, balancing, on a ledge of rampant nerves, preparing to step off and plummet intoholy fuck, what am I doing?!
I’m usually a pretty chill dude. I mean, I certainly smoke enough weed to consider myself a card-carrying member of the Bob Marley,don’t worry, be happyclub. Sure, I get stressed and anxious—who doesn’t?But that’s what the weed is for. Outside of that, awkwardness, especially as it pertains to giving a shit what people think of me, or worrying about how they’re going to react to the things I do, just isn’t something I give much thought to.
However,this… This is a very different situation.
This is a threesome with my best friend and my uptight stepbrother who hates me. So forgive me for losing my cool just the tiniest bit. I’m sure if I wasn’t six shots and three joints deep, I’d be freaking the fuck out. Instead, I’m just kind of… unnerved.
After Kyran left the room, having alerted us that he would, in fact, return for us to commence this ill-conceived gambit to make money, Frankie and I smoked a little more in her room, discussing how ludicrous it was that he said yes. Then we rejoined the rest of the party, ripped a few more shots with Micah and Zeb, and purposely stayed as far away from Kyran as possible.
Naturally, no one else knows what we’re about to do. The point of this whole thing is to keep it hush-hush, so Frankie agreed not to even tell Bea, the only one out of our group who knows about the whole OnlyFans thing.
It’s been a couple of hours, and while I’m trying my hardest not to even glance in Kyran’s direction, I can’t help but notice him any time he resurfaces. He’s been drinking heavily, though you’d never know it because apparently the dude can camouflage like no one’s business, which I suppose is a good thing, as it pertains to our secret endeavor. I’ve always assumed he’s good at bottling things up, being that he spends ninety-nine percent of the interactions I’ve had with him brooding. He just seems like the kind of guyno onereally knows… Who would never dare let the outside world in on what’s really happening beneath his surface.
It has me briefly wondering what he could be hiding… But then I shut it down, and remember that we’re not pals, and I don’t care what kinds of secrets he has, as long as he stays good at keeping them.
I have no intention of telling him aboutmyOnlyFans, because he already judges me enough as it is. It’s bad enough I’m going to be doing this with him, of all people…
He certainly wasn’t my first choice, not by a long shot.
Inviting Kyran to the party had nothing to do with the threesome. I was just genuinely feeling bad for him, seeing how mopey he was after losing the game. I know I must be anidiot, because I always find myself in situations where I’m the one reaching out, trying to keep the peace with him, and he continually wants no part of it. But I can’t seem to help myself. He’s my stepbrother, and even though he appears to be Mr. Popularity, I can’t help but feel like itisall an act, and in reality, he’s actually very lonely.
I’d never say that to him, though, because he’d just freak out and threaten to kick my ass again. So I extended an invite to the party as yet another olive branch, mainly because I really didn’t expect him to show up.
But when he did, Frankie presented me with herbrilliant idea, which is more like theworstidea in the history of threesomes. Naturally, I was more than a little skeptical. Still am. Because despite the fact that he somehow, against all logic, actually agreed to this, I’m nowhere near foolish enough to think it’ll go off without a hitch.
It’s common knowledge that Kyran hates my guts. Not that I’m his biggest fan either, but heactivelywants to choke me to death half the time, and I still haven’t pinpointed exactly why.
Well, I’m sure after tonight, there will be one more reason to add to his list.