Page 7 of Perfectly Wrong
I laugh. “Did you bottom?”
“Yeah. I’ve been going that way more often. I took one look at what he was packing and had to have it.”
“He’s good?”
“Yeah, freckles and red hair everywhere. Fucking hot. Sucks like it’s his job too.”
“I’m jealous.”
“All these boys here you couldn’t find one?”
Just one. “Wasn’t really trying.”
“You still have time.”
I smile, sipping my beer. “I’m good. I think I’ll get out of here soon.”
“You’re staying. I’m not letting you leave.”
“I’ll get an Uber.”
“You live too far. It’s expensive. Just fucking stay.”
“You need the space for all these boys to crash.”
“You can sleep in my room. Wouldn’t be the first time.”
I laugh softly, remembering the night we thought we’d hook up, but quickly realized we should stay friends. I am drunk though. “I could crash on the couch.”
“The couch?” Tristan says behind us. “We have two extra bedrooms.”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell him,” Rocco says. “It’s dumb to leave.”
“He could crash in my room,” Tristan offers. “I’ll probably be awake all night anyway.”
“That’s a good idea,” Rocco says. “It’s quiet up there.” Rocco jumps up. “Be right back. I need to piss.”
Once he’s gone, Tristan kneels down beside me. “If I can’t fuck you, at least you’ll leave your smell on my sheets.”
“You’re bad, you know that?”
“I just know what I want. Why is that bad?”
“We already had his discussion.”
“Yep. So stay. Sleep in my bed. Naked, please. Then tomorrow night, I’ll sleep in it. Naked, rolling in my sheets and remembering what it felt like to hold you in my hand.”
“You know, you’re actually lucky I won’t fuck you.”
He tilts his head. “Why is that?”
“Because I’d fucking ruin you, Tristan. No one could ever fuck you better than me.”
He grins, biting his bottom lip. “I think I’d be okay with that.”
Rocco returns, sitting between us, seemingly oblivious to the attraction between me and his kid. “Did you convince him to stay, Tristan?” His slurred words reveal Rocco’s just as wasted as I am.
“Did I, Bishop?” Tristan asks.
