Page 12 of Studious
Mom gestures that she wants to sit up, and I help adjust her hospital bed and prop her up with pillows. Her surprisingly strong fingers grip my biceps. “Alden, listen to me. The first thing you need to know is that you’re perfect exactly the way you are. Don’t let anyone tell you that you need to change.”
“Yeah, I know—”
“But the second thing is, don’t be afraid to change if it helps you become who you’re meant to be.”
I open my mouth to protest, but nothing comes out. So I swallow and nod.
I want to change pretty damned badly. After all, I’m twenty-four years old, and I’ve never even been kissed.
CHAPTER2
Danny
I’d like to say this is the first time I’ve forgotten the name of a guy whose dick is in my mouth, but it isn’t.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m smart, and if something matters to me, I remember it. But this guy’s name doesn’t matter—sorry to be that asshole.
Like I do a few times a week, tonight I went to One, met a guy, and went back to his place. It’s nothing special. He’s just another in the pantheon of nameless, faceless fucks I’ve had over the years.
At some point, they all started blending together. But I gave my heart to someone once, only to have it ripped out. I’ve never done it again.
And I never will.
That said, a guy has needs, and I’m very good at getting them met. I’m famous for satisfying my partners, too. I’m well aware of my rep—I’m the best in bed, and every guy in that club wants me. Exactly how I like it.
So, yeah, remembering names isn’t exactly on my priority list. Still, now I’m distracted, and I pull off the guy with a pop, blinking hard, treating this situation like a memory game.
Eddie? Elio? Something with an E, I think.
“Dude,” he whines from where he’s straddling my shoulders, attempting to feed his dick into my mouth again.
I jerk my head back. “Give me a sec,” I mutter. I study his face for clues, but I’m finding no names in my mental inventory. Brain’s delivering an error message.
Oh well. It’s not important. I’m never going to see him again. I don’t do repeats, and even if I did, he wouldn’t be particularly tempting. He’s hot, but I don’t really like his voice. I also don’t like his apartment that much. Or wherever we are.
I need to finish sucking him off and get out of here. My jaw is aching a bit, and I could use a break.
That makes me stiffen, and not in a good way.
I. The king of one-night stands and hookups. Ambored.
What’s happening here?
Time to focus. I take his cock deep, letting it hit the back of my throat, and I do this undulating sucking motion I know feels good when someone does it to me.
Bingo. He groans and tugs my hair, and I hope he’ll come fast.
He does, releasing with a yell, and it’s not all that sexy. He collapses on the bed next to me. I stroke myself off, then lie back on the bed, panting.
I got the job done. Another notch on the bedpost, so to speak.
“Thanks, man,” Evan/Ethan says.
I roll onto my side and give him my most charming grin. “No problem.” I spy a box of tissues on a bedside table and take some to wipe up. Then I fish around for my clothes.
He clears his throat. “So, I was wondering.”
Those four words may be my least favorite in the English language.
