Page 33 of Enemy
“What about this one?” Clyde asks, turning to his side when his fingers trail from my thigh and all the way up to the big-ass ugly scar on my hip. For a moment, it’s hard to focus on the question, because his dick is in view again, and I can’t fucking believe the man who gave me head also fed me, and is now touching my body. It feels too good to be true, but we are both here, so maybe I shouldn’t overthink it.
I look down and shake my head as I cover his hand with mine, pressing it to the mangled flesh. “My first, actually, and I wish it came with a movie-worthy story. But I got this one as a kid.”
I initially want to leave it at that, but when Clyde keeps watching me, I sigh and let my head drop to the blanket. I could lie, come up with a good story to accompany that old injury, but it feels like we’re beyond posturing now. “If you tell anyone, I’ll kill you.”
When he nods, I run my fingertip through the golden hair on his forearm. “My friends and me, we wanted to show how tough we were. Got a bit drunk on some booze one of them stole from his parents, and we decided to prove ourselves by cutting ourselves with a razor. I was really determined to be the toughest of them all and made this big cut.” I clear my throat and sigh as Clyde’s fingertips trace the marks on my body. “I thought it would stop bleeding on its own, but that didn’t happen. My parents would be furious if they found out, and since I’ve heard about surgeons stapling cuts, I took my mom’s paper stapler and tried to use that. As you can imagine… it wasn’t pretty.”
Clyde covers his face with one hand. “Oh God… Road. Seriously. Your only saving grace for this is that you were a kid.”
I laugh. “Well, Mom and Dad wouldn’t take me to a doctor anyway. The only thing I had to gain if I told them would be a whupping, so I used paper towels to soak upthe blood and hoped for the best. But some dirt must have gotten into the wound, or something, and I got real sick. My best friend told his mom, and she took me to the ER. Probably saved my life. Not a memory I’m proud of,” I say, tapping the scar.
Clyde has some more whiskey and shakes his head. “Your parents. Do they know you’re gay? Are you… gay?” His fingertips tickle the mangled scar before moving up my side.
My mouth dries. Clyde is looking straight at me, his eyes soft, almost hopeful. If this question had come from anyone else, I’d have to act and establish myself as the manliest of men around, lie that I don’t have dick on my mind all the time, but how could Clyde use the truth against me now that we’ve already been so close? Still, the words I want to say feel like glass in my throat.
“Yeah, I’m gay. And… I don’t fucking know or care what my parents know. I left when I was fourteen.”
Sparks of excitement pop in my chest when Clyde shifts closer, eventually putting his leg between mine, his arm over my chest, and his cheek on my shoulder. His breath smells of whiskey, and maybe not today, but Iwillkiss him.
“And you don’t have… other guys? You did suggest we’re in the same boat when you proposed ourthing.”
My arms slide around him, and I smile when his hair tickles my skin. He’s so damn perfect with those clear eyes, full lips, and a sturdy, muscular form. “No. The risk always felt too great. But you… you also have a lot to lose, don’t you?” I ask, and open my eyes so I can see his face, because this feels like a make-it-or-break-it kind of question. “You’re also… gay?”
Clyde hums and nods. “Yeah. Women just don’t work for me. Not that I didn’t try. My dad would have hated this about me. But I never…” He drifts off, closing his eyes for a moment, and I notice that his eyelashes are on the pale side. Kinda cute. “Indulging this part of me was always too risky. So you’re my first.” When he finally meets my gaze again, it feels like he’s staring straight into my soul, and my toes curl in response to the sudden jolt inside me.
I dive my hands into his smooth hair and lean close, until my forehead is against his, and something about this shared moment makes my heart flutter as if it’s about to grow wings and free itself from my ribcage. Cascading through my fingers, his mane looks like bundles of gold thread, decorating the most fucking precious thing I ever held.
“It’s no big deal,” Clyde adds, but it is. It makes me want to be the only guy he’ll ever be with.
Swallowing, I stroke his cheekbone with my fingers.
If anyone finds out, I’d lose my club, and they’re my family, the only family that treated me right. But how could I deny myself something that makes me feel so full?
“I… sometimes get head from girls, but it’s not the same,” I say, even though I might be too simple to describe just how different it felt with him.
“‘Cause I can’t do it right?” he teases with a laugh, but I’m not stupid and can sense the insecurity under the joke.
“Because I like you better,” I tell him, moving my foot up and down his warm, hairy leg in a gentle caress. “I fucking loved how you looked with my dick on your tongue, and the way you moaned sucking on it.”
Clyde bites his lip, pondering something, and I wish I could open his head and read his thoughts. “Could you not get head from girls from now on? For however long this lasts?”
I swallow and meet his gaze as the pleasant tension in my chest grows. Still, I play it cool. I have to. “You want us to be boyfriends?”
He groans and hides his face against my neck. “That’s not what this is, and you know it. It’s just about… diseases and shit.”
Do I? Do I know it?
I’m not so sure.
“I have one condition,” I tell him, playing with his hair. When he looks up, eager for anything I might say next, I roll us over, so I’m the one hovering over him, and he rests flat on the blanket. “I want a kiss.”
Clyde laughs and pushes my face away without force. “What we’re doing isn’t about kisses. You really gotta understand that, Road.”
“I don’t know what you’re on about,” I say and find the scar on his side, the one I left on him less than a year ago. “I like kissing. It makes my cock hard.”
That gets his attention. And the worst thing is, the more he denies me, the more I want it. He seems hesitant, and when he lifts his head, my heart beats faster—
But then he pushes on my shoulder with unexpected force, does a sneaky twist with his legs, and before I know it, I’m the one flat on my back, and he’s sitting on top of me with a smug expression. “Your cock is always hard for me.”
