Page 26 of A Boy is a Gun: Part I
“Kneel,” he ordered, and I didn’t hesitate. I climbed off him and kneeled before his hardened cock. He stared down at me and cupped my face with a slight smirk. “Suck me off, angel.”
I opened wide and took as much of him in my mouth, eager to give him the same pleasure he gave me. His moans and sexy grunts encouraged me to suck him harder and faster, suctioning my cheeks to take more of him.
“Fuck, angel!” Cameron grabbed two fistfuls of my hair as I continued to suck him off. “You love sucking dick now, don’t you? You were so unsure about doing it the first time, remember that? I taught you. I taught you how to suck me. And now look at you. You’re my little cumslut.”
Cameron always talked dirty to me, but the sexy way he does humiliation kink gets me even more aroused. I moan my appreciation for his cock, and he thrusts his cock more into my willing mouth. I feel his balls tighten, knowing he’s about to come hard.
“Taylor!” Cameron yells and shoots his hot come down my throat. I swallow all of it and rest my head on his lap as he strokes my hair. Despite having a non-watching audience, I feel closer to Cameron than I’d ever been.
We quickly put on our clothes, and Cameron picks me up and carries me back home. We briefly checked on a sleeping Mia in her nursery and then made love again. We were up all night in various positions and couldn’t get enough of each other.
At the time, I thought it was just a great night of lovemaking and intimacy. Looking back on it, I realize it was the last night between us before everything went completely to shit.
Four
Cameron
No one likes waking up to bad news, and they damn sure don’t like waking up to bad news that lands them in a courthouse on a Tuesday morning, bailing out one of their friends.
It’s been a few weeks since the surprise news in San Francisco. Jamie has officially moved all in, and she and Taylor see each other a few times a week to work on the menu and do test runs of their hip-hop restaurant, Earth, Wind, and Flour.
When I see Jamie, it’s a friendly hello and small chatter, but it’s never more. No hugs, no kisses, and nothing affectionate. We’re both playing nice for the sake of Taylor, who, I’m sure, sees all of that and is caught in the middle.
It’s not a position I ever wanted Taylor to be in, and I’m uncomfortable that she is. Whatever issues Jamie and I have, Taylor has nothing to do with and never will. Until everything is settled, Taylor will have to be in the middle, and I hope she doesn’t catch any strays.
For now, I’m heading to the courthouse with Que in tow. One of my best friends caught a couple of charges, and I needed to clear him before the police started sniffing the connection between us.
I’ve known Roadie since middle school. He’s a mammoth of a dude – well over six feet tall and has a weird combination of fat and muscle that works just right for him. He was a big dude back then and only just got bigger since. He’s built like a linebacker and sometimes acts like one when he likes to tackle people just for the fuck of it.
He has red hair that’s somewhere between strawberry blond and copper, with a matching goatee. If a woman is lucky, he’ll tell her his carpets to match the drapes if she wants to double-check.
He’s the type of guy who would stand ten toes down on why *NSYNC is better than the Backstreet Boys and will recite every Britney Spears song by memory. And don’t let him get started on Michael Jackson and Prince.
We had our rich boys’ clique that every school in America has: the rich white kids who always hang out together and do stupid shit because we’re rich and white. Mommy and Daddy couldn’t care less as long we were out of their faces and threw as much cash in our direction to ensure that.
Roadie’s real name is Ross, but everyone calls him Roadie because he always wants to go on the road. He’s the king of road trips, and with him, I’ve been to all 48 contiguous states just by car alone. We even went on road trips without our parents’ knowledge, and they only found out because we got stuck or it slipped out somehow.
Although Roadie is one of my ride or dies, he’s also a loose cannon. He’s that type of guy who’sjust a bit too crazy for even the craziest motherfucker. When things are great, he’s cooler than the underside of a pillow. However, when things get ready to pop off, I’ve been called to bail him out more times than I could count.
This leads me here at the superior court at ten in the morning.
Roadie didn’t start the fight at the bar, but he damn sure finished it. He was defending a woman from a guy who spiked her drink. Ross and the guy got into some words and swung at Roadie. Roadie, in turn, put the guy in the hospital.
It’s one thing if he was defending himself and the woman, but when one punch leads to a beatdown and attempted murder charges, the cops don’t like that. During the arrest, the cops found a small packet of pills on Roadie, and I get a phone call in the middle of the night.
“Now, why am I here? This is white boy shit I have nothing to do with.” Que asks once we pass through security and are on our way to the courtroom. Que, for obvious reasons, doesn’t care for him. Roadie gets away with practically murder, while Que gets pulled over no less than ten times in one year just because he’s Black and he drives a nice car.
“This is a vested interest with both of us,” I reassure Que as we wait by the elevators. We’re both dressed in our finest Tom Ford suits with matching shades. “The girl Roadie was with will help us a lot.”
“Yeah?” Que chews a stick of gum. “Who’s the broad?”
“Makayla Underwood,” I pronounce every syllable of her name to ensure Que knows exactly who I’m referring to.
Que nods in understanding. “His sister.”
I open up a wrap of gum. “A sister who likes to party a lot.”
Upon getting the phone call from Roadie, I asked Tesh to research who his friend was. I’ve always known Ethan had a sister like Jamie, the family's black sheep. The difference is Jamie is the black sheep of the safe kind, while Makayla is really about that life.
