Page 52
He swallows so hard I have to adjust myself.
“How good are you at keeping a straight face?” he asks.
“Define ‘straight face.’”
“In front of every goddamn person. While I do something to you.”
The oven’s warmth seeps through my jeans. “Something meaning...?”
“You’ll see—or feel, I guess. You just have to not react. C’mon Beckett, it’ll be fun. Lots of fun.” Fabric rustles against itself, and I hear a door upstairs click open. “Say yes.”
Ira’s talking to me—on the phone—as he gallops down the stairs. The black case is still pressed to his ear when he stops right in front of me in the kitchen. He stole one of my hoodies again, sleeves hanging over his wrists and the bottom too long.
“Say. Yes,” he repeats, and it echoes.
I narrow my eyes.
This could go catastrophically wrong, but I’m so interested it’s not even funny. What’s worse is I have no idea what’s going through his messy bed head. This could be something as benign as him trying to find my ticklish spots, again, or far, far worse.
He pockets the phone, then wraps his arms around my shoulders. He’s so hard when his hips nudge against mine that I can’t help but palm his ass to get him closer. My fingers find skin, and it takes a solid second to realize exactly how short his shorts are.
“I’ll take a nonverbal yes.” He grins. “I kind of hope there’s lots of scary scenes.”
Screw inviting the club to watch movies—
This is the bad idea of the century.
Ira switches position on my lap. Again. His back presses into my chest, legs flat over mine under the giant Halloween blanket he dug out of my box; it’s big enough to cover our entire town.
“Are you cold?” I whisper in his ear, and he shoots me a shut-up look.
Leon turns to face us on the couch, less than a cushion over.
“Y’know, I’m surprised I didn’t peg you two as a couple way earlier.” He picks out a sour gummy worm from the bowl of candy and drops it into his mouth. “I think my gaydar is gone.”
“Your gaydar is fine,” Gavin says from the chair. “Beck’s a recent convert.”
What a fantastic way to spend an evening.
Embarrassment crawls up the back of my neck, turning my face hot, but I force an awkward laugh. “Come on. Be nice to me. I’m sure Allison didn’t know she was bi until later, right?”
“Third grade,” she deadpans. “Pass me the bowl. I should’ve come earlier to get a seat instead of the floor.”
Ira—per usual—is quiet in crowds. Though he shifts again, sliding his shorts down until his bare ass is flush with my unbuttoned jeans. He pulls my dick out of my boxers, and I bite my lip until I taste blood.
It finally dawns on me what he’s planned.
Panic’s more important than embarrassment.
He cannot possibly, under any circumstances, expect me to keep a straight face while he—
There’s almost no friction when his hips lift and my dick slides inside of him. Just heat and warmth and pressure so good my eyes nearly roll back in my skull. I’m trying to stay fucking coherent, but it’s impossible. Not when he lowers himself all the way down.
My head falls on the back of the couch, and I taste Ira’s shampoo when he leans into my shoulder. He’s not even breathing hard.
Sam is bickering with Matt about pizza and Scream versus Urban Legend.
Leon and Allison are laughing about accidentally outing themselves to their parents. I didn’t even know Leon was gay.
