Detention 6

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I woke up with Chris next to me. Sunlight poured through my window, filling my whole room with bright light and it took me a moment or two to realize that it was morning. It was morning and Chris was still in my bed, sleeping next to me. We had slept together in the same bed. All I could wonder was, “How did that happen?” His face was buried sideways on the pillow, his eyes lightly closed, and his mouth slightly open. I studied his perfect, beautiful face for a minute before I looked over at my alarm clock; it was ten minutes to eight. “Oh, shit! Chris wake up now!” I yelled.

Chris’ eyes popped open. He looked at me at first as though he couldn’t remember who I was and then he sat up in bed. “What am I still doin’ here?” he asked.

Quickly, I jumped out of bed, not wearing a damn thing, and found some underwear to put on. “We gotta hurry up. We’re supposed to be at school in like ten minutes.”

Chris didn’t move from the bed at all. He just stretched his powerfully muscular arms over his head, arched his back, causing all of the muscles in his upper body to flex and ripple. “Fuck school. Let’s just not go.”

“No, we gotta go. We’ll get detention again if we miss school.”

Sighing, Chris said, “We’ll probably get detention anyway.” He stepped out of bed, fully naked, the light illuminating his god-like body, and his giant, semi-hard dick swinging around like a pendulum. He picked up his shirt and put it on. “Where the fuck are my pants at?” he asked.

“Think you left `em in the living room. Let me go get them. I don’t know if my mother is home or not.” I left my room, went into the living room, and found Chris’ baggy jeans in a pile on the carpet beside the couch. Picking them up, I sniffed the crotch area of Chris’ jeans a few times, and I could smell his sweet, pungent scent through the denim. It made my dick harden a little bit in my boxer shorts. I jogged back to my room and handed Chris his jeans. “Chris we gotta hurry up and get to school. If we’re late, then we gotta go to detention…again. I’m not tryin to have detention on a fuckin Friday.”

Chris lazily stepped into his jeans. His dick was poking out of the zipper hole. He stuffed it back in and zipped them up. I was surprised to see how good Chris looked in the morning. He looked so fresh as though he didn’t just wake up. Me on the other hand, I knew that I probably looked like a big mess. “It’s already eight o’clock, B.” I checked the clock and saw that he was right. Fuck.

After he was finished dressing, Chris said, “I’ll see you later.”

“Wait a second, I’m almost dressed.”

“No. I need to go home and take a shower and put on some different clothes,” Chris told me.

“Why don’t you just wear what you got on now?”

“`Cause it’s musty, and I hate wearin’ the same thing twice.”

“You can just wear somethin of mine,” I told him. “We’re basically almost the same size.”

Chris looked at me as if I was stupid. “No offense, B. But I wouldn’t be caught fuckin dead wearin any of your shit.” He scoffed and walked out of the room. “I’ll see you later.”
I caught up with him in the living room just as he was about to open the front door, and grabbed him by the arm spinning around. I leaned my face in close to kiss him but Chris pulled back. “I’m cool, B. Your breath stinks.” He grinned, tugged open the door and left. I couldn’t believe he just said that to me–I mean I could believe he said that, because Chris always said shit like that, but that fuckin annoyed me. It just proved to me that the closer that I thought the two of us got, the more Chris proved to me that I wasn’t worth shit to him.

Since I didn’t have much time, I just put on a slightly wrinkled T-shirt and the same jeans I wore the day before. It was fifteen minutes after eight when I finally got out of the house. As I was getting on the bus, searching for my fare, I found the letter that Jason Coleman had written me last night. I paid the dollar fare, found a seat, and reread the note again.

Hey Brandon,

This is Jason. Came by your house around nine-fifteen, but nobody answered the door when I rang the doorbell…I’m kinda disappointed that I didn’t get spend time with you tonight…

As I thought about it, I realized that I was disappointed too.

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I reported to the main office where the bitter old receptionist, Ms. Grayson grimaced at me from behind her desk. “You’re an hour late, Mr. Newman,” she said.

“Um…my bus ran late…”

“Next time,” she said as she filled out a pink slip for me, “Wake up earlier.” Ms. Grayson handed the note to me. “Report to Mr.Wilson’s room at three-fifteen for detention. Next!”

So obviously I could see that this was already gonna be the worst fuckin day of my life. I snatched the slip away from her and stormed out of the office.

Later, during lunch, I saw Jason Coleman walking in my direction as I sat under my favorite tree.
As he came closer, I was just so mesmerized by how attractive he was; and not just the way he looked. There just seemed to be a confidence about him, a maturity about him that set him apart from most high school boys our age. Jason sat next to, smiling. “Hey,” he said. “Did you get that note I left you last night?”

“Yeah, I did…um…my mother wanted me to go somewhere with her at that last minute. I told her that you were comin over, but she didn’t care. I’m sorry I missed you.”

Jason looked at me intently with his bright hazel eyes for a few seconds, as if he were trying to decide if I was telling the truth or not. He just said, “It’s OK. That’s cool. Well, what are you doin after school?”

I sighed. “Got detention again. But afterwards I free to do whatever.”

“Good,” Jason said. He stood up. “Come to the library after you get out. I’ll be there.” Jason winked at me and walked away. I watched his ass through his semi-tight fitting jeans as he strode off. It was really tight and round-looking. I was still amazed that somebody as good-looking and sophisticated as he was would be interested in me. I looked around to see if Chris was spying on me as he had been the other day. When I didn’t see him, I gathered my stuff and headed to class.

I reported to room 738 after school for detention. The bad thing was that this wasn’t going to be like Ms. Navarro’s detention, where all we had to do was sit in our desks and look like idiots for forty-five minutes. Mr. Wilson, the detention teacher for the whole school, was an unnecessarily cruel asshole that made us actually do things as part of detention, like clean all the bathrooms or pick up trash all over campus. This was really not about to be fun.

There was only four other people in detention other than myself: this extremely good-looking, tall and muscular sophomore fifteen-year-old named Scott Howard, Rachel Johnson who was in my Physics class, and of course, the two people I really wasn’t all too excited to see: Billy Anderson and Chris Green. When Chris saw me, he smiled; I couldn’t really tell if it was an insulting smile, or a genuine smile. Just as I sat in my seat, I heard Mr. Wilson say to me in his extremely deep voice, “Five minutes late, Newman.”

I checked my watch. “It’s three fifteen now.”

Mr. Wilson pointed to the wall clock. “Not on that clock it isn’t.” He walked over to my desk, and as he came closer to me, I could smell the gaziantep escort kızlar sweet scent of the cologne he wore. Mr. Wilson gripped both sides of my desk and lowered himself down so that our faces were at the same level. He stared at me deeply with his piercing ice-blue eyes. Very deliberately with his sexy lips moving slowly, Mr. Wilson said to me, “Don’t ever be late again, Newman.”

With my heart beating at rapid speed, I answered, “I won’t be.”

I heard Chris, Billy and Scott snickering at me. Mr. Wilson looked in their direction. “Did I tell any of you to make any fuckin noise?” he asked.

“No, sir,” all three said at once. I had forgotten that Mr. Wilson had been head coach for the football team in the fall and their Track and Field coach. That’s why Chris, Billy, and Scott respected (or were intimidated by) him so much. Mr. Wilson looked at me again, for a few seconds. And there was something in the way he looked at me, that was not just anger, but also a look of lust, like he wanted to fuck me right there. It was the same look Chris always gave me. I looked at the wedding band on Mr. Wilson’s finger and then I looked him directly in the eyes. Mr. Wilson arched one of his eyebrows slightly, stood up and headed back toward his desk. Like I had done with Jason, I watched Mr. Wilson’s firm-looking round ass in the snug-fitted brown slacks he wore. I could tell from Mr. Wilson’s body shape that he worked out a lot and had a nice physique. He probably had a giant dick like Billy and Chris. It’s been my experience that football players–and their coaches probably–all though I have only fucked three so far (football players, not coaches)–have massive dicks.

“Anderson and Green,” Mr.Wilson said to Billy and Chris, “I want all the trash in the main courtyard and the bleachers on the football field cleaned up.” To Scott, he said, “Howard, you go clean up the men’s locker room. It should be empty by now. All three of you should be back in less than half an hour. Ms. Johnson you can leave now. I don’t have anything for you to do today.” Rachel looked very happy when Mr. Wilson told her this. She was out of the classroom in two seconds. I didn’t dare think to tell him that was unfair that she got to go while the rest of us stayed. But I, as well as Billy, Chris, and Scott knew that was a bad idea to challenge Mr. Wilson. The three boys left the classroom, leaving Mr.Wilson and I alone. “And you, Newman…” Mr. Wilson reached into one the drawers in his desk and pulled out one of the biggest stacks of papers that I had ever seen in my life. He saw the shocked look on my face and this made him smirk. Mr. Wilson carried the papers over to my desk and placed them on my desk. “I want you to grade each one of these. And if you make any mistakes, I’ll be seein your ass everyday in detention for the next two weeks.” Now I was beginning to see where Chris and Billy got their arrogant, fucked up attitudes from. And I hated to admit that it was actually turning me on.

Half an hour later, when Chris, Billy, and Scott returned, I was only half-way finished with the papers. They were all grinning and their clothes looked a lot more wrinkled and dirty than before they had left. I knew that hadn’t cleaned any up at all. They had probably just finished having a fuckin threesome in the locker room or some place. “We’re finished, coach,” Chris said. He looked at me, flashing one of his taunting, cocky grins. “Can we go now?”

“Yes,” Mr. Wilson said. “All of you can go.” Mr. Wilson turned to me. “Except for you, Newman.”

“Why do I gotta stay?” I asked.

“Because I fuckin said so,” Mr. Wilson said sharply. Scott and Billy quietly left the classroom. Chris remained behind for two seconds, giving me this “too bad for you” look and left as well.

As soon as Chris left the classroom, Mr. Wilson walked over to me, his crotch a few inches away from my face and asked, “Why aren’t you fuckin finished with those papers yet?”

“`Cause there’s like a thousand of them. There’s no way in hell that I’m gonna be able to finish all of these papers in ten minutes.”

“Well,” Mr. Wilson said moving in a little bit closer to me, “guess you’re gonna have to stay a little bit longer.” I looked over at his crotch, because by that time it was obvious that he wanted me to, and saw his cock growing within his pants. My own dick started to grow within my jeans.

“I’m supposed to be meeting somebody at four o’ clock,” I told Mr.Wilson. “I can’t stay that much longer.”

Mr. Wilson’s dick continued to harden inside his slacks. It snacked down his left thigh and swelled to its fullest degree, which appeared to be at least a good ten inches. So I guess my whole football player/coach-big dick theory was proving to be accurate. Mr. Wilson gave his cock a few squeezes though his pants. My dick was rock hard now, poking against the denim of my jeans. A good part of me wanted to see what Mr. Wilson’s dick looked like, and even how it would taste like going in my mouth. But then there was another part that felt bad and guilty about suckin off a teacher. “I’ve been hearin some things about you, Newman,” Mr. Wilson said to me.

My heart skipped. “Things like what?”

Mr. Wilson unbuckled his belt slowly and unbuttoned his slacks. “I’ve heard that you been doin things with my Quarterback.”

I swallowed. My dick was still pulsating. “I don’t know what you’re talkin about.”

Chuckling, Mr. Wilson lowered his zipper down a little bit, just enough for me to see that he was not wearing any underwear. He had shiny brown pubes. “Oh, I think you know what I’m talkin about, Newman.”

“Actually I don’t. And I don’t think it’s really appropriate for you to be doin’ that in front of me.”

“Appropriate?” Mr. Wilson asked with a smirk. “What do you know about appropriate, Newman? You’ve been caught fuckin in Ms. Navarro’s classroom, the boy’s bathroom–and I know about what’s been goin on in the gym and the football field–now is that what you call ‘appropriate’?” Mr. Wilson put one hand into the hole in his zipper and massaged his dick inside of his pants. “I guess the two of you aren’t even tryin to keep it a secret.”

I glared at him. “What do you want?”

Mr. Wilson gave me a coy look that I read as: “You know what I want.” I thought he was going to whip out his dick and try to stick it into my mouth, but instead he rose his zipper and fastened the button to his pants, “Not today. This will have to wait for another time. You can go now, Newman,” Mr. Wilson said.

I waited until my boner deflated a little and then I responded, “But what about these papers you wanted me to grade?”

“Toss `em in the trash. They’re just a bunch of old papers from last year.” Mr. Wilson smiled at me, a very taunting and cruel smile.

That was just another reason for me to hate his fucking guts. I grabbed the pile of papers and dumped them in the recycling bin. Mr. Wilson sat behind his desk and began to write something on a piece of paper. As I was ready to exit the classroom, Mr. Wilson asked me, without looking up from his paper, “You’re not gonna tell anybody about this are you?”

It was basically the same exact question Ms. Navarro had asked me only a week earlier. When she had asked, I didn’t have an answer, but I had one now: “No. But maybe you should be careful. I’m sure you wouldn’t want anyone telling your wife.” Mr. Wilson lifted his head from his paper and gave me a look of surprise, as if he hadn’t expected me to say that. Smiling to myself, I stepped out of the classroom and into the empty hallway.

The library would be closing in under twenty-five minutes. I jogged halfway across campus, hoping that Jason hadn’t left yet. Entering the library doors, I saw that the place was mostly empty. The librarian typed away on his computer at his desk, and when he saw me, he said, “We’re closing in fifteen minutes.”

I checked the computer area, and Jason wasn’t there; I checked the study area, he wasn’t there either, I checked the book stacks, and I still didn’t see him. I went down one narrow book aisle and called out his name. “Jason? Are you still here?”
From the opposite side of the bookshelf, I heard a deep voice say, “No, but I am.” I removed one of the books from the shelf to see Chris’ handsome, grinning face on the other side. “So he let you outta detention huh? I thought you woulda been in there for a least a half hour longer, gettin the ‘special treatment’.” Chris walked around the shelf and joined me in the narrow aisle.

“So I guess the special treatment involves jackin off right in front of my face?”

Chris’ eyebrows arched and he chuckled. “Wilson pulled out his dick? Did he make you jack him off? Suck him off?”

“No!” I pushed my way past him and walked out of the library. Chris followed behind me.

“He left ten minutes ago,” Chris said.

I turned around. “Who?”

“That pretty boy you was chattin up with yesterday. Think he said his name was Jason.”

It felt like my heart had plummeted down to my feet. “Jason? You didn’t talk to him did you?”

Chris shrugged. “For a quick second.”

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“Did you say anything about me?”

“You came up a few times.”

I got really nervous. “What did you tell him, Chris?”

Chris had this amused look on his face. “Nothin too bad. Don’t get all stressed B. Your forehead is all wrinkled.”

“You never get tired of fuckin around with me.” I stuffed the piece of paper into my pocket and walked away.

I heard Chris say from behind me, “I was just tryin to help you out.”

“I don’t need your help.”

Chris followed me as I made my way back across campus toward the main gates. He caught up with me. “B, wait up. Let me take you home.”

“That’s okay, I’ll take the bus.” Seizing me by the hand, Chris dragged me off into the direction of his truck. I tried struggling with him, but either he was stronger than I expected him to be, or I just wasn’t in the mood to really struggle with him. As I calmed down, Chris loosened his grip on me, but he didn’t let go of my hand until we reached his truck.

“Get in,” he said as he unlocked the door. I stepped into the truck reluctantly. Chris turned on the engine and we were cruising down the street in seconds.

I asked “How long are we gonna do this?”

“What?” Chris questioned.

“You know what I’m talkin about. We go to detention, and then we fuck, and then we go to school the next day and pretend like we don’t like each other, like we don’t even know who each other are. It’s gettin kinda boring now. When is it gonna stop?”

“Who said anything about me wantin to fuck you today?” Chris asked. “I’m just takin you home. Besides, you’re probably gonna go and fuck that dude Jason, or whatever the fuck his name is.”

“Who said anything about me fuckin anybody?” I questioned back. “And speakin of fucking, what were you and Billy and that other freshman boy–Scott–or whatever his name is doin’?

“It’s not what you think,” Chris said. He took one hand off the steering wheel and used the other hand to tug at his crotch. “I didn’t fuck either one of them.”

“Yeah right.”

“B, of all people, you should know that it takes longer than twenty minutes for me to get off. It woulda took me a hour and a half at least to bone them. And like I told you yesterday, the only person I’m fuckin is you. Probably can’t say the same thing bout you though.”

“What are you talkin about? You the only one I’m…” I stopped talking before I ended the sentence. “I haven’t done anything with Jason Coleman yet–”

“Did you just hear yourself, B?” Chris took his hand off his dick, which I assumed was hard now, and placed it back on the steering wheel. “You said you haven’t done anything with him ‘yet’.”

“I don’t plan on doin anything with him.” That part wasn’t necessarily true. “I don’t even know him all that much yet.”

“There goes that ‘yet’ word again, B. And `sides, you don’t need to know somebody to fuck `em. You just need to be horny enough.”

“So what’s your point?” I asked, annoyed.

“I want you to admit that you wanna fuck that boy,” Chris said.


Chris didn’t answer.

I looked out my window, watching all the houses and trees that passed by. My heart was fluttering in my chest and my stomach felt like it was bouncing all over the place. “I like being with you,” I whispered. I was hoping that Chris didn’t hear me.

“What did you say?” Chris asked.

“Nothin.” I said.

“No,” Chris responded, looking at me. “I wanna hear what you just said.”

My heart was beating like a jackhammer in my chest; I took a deep breath, and without looking at him, I said a little bit louder, “I said I like being with you.” There was an extended moment of awkward silence and I regretted ever saying anything at all. I wish I could’ve just taken it–

“I like bein with you too…” Chris said. His voice shook a little when he said that, as though it was the hardest thing in the world for him to say. Another moment of silence past and Chris asked, “Do you like me?” I really couldn’t believe he was asking me that, and I could tell by the way his voice was still shaking that he couldn’t believe he asked me either.

“…I don’t know… sometimes I do, sometimes I don’t. What about you?”

Chris hesitated for a moment, and then he answered, “More than I should.”

“More than you should, what?” I asked.

Chris kept his eyes straight on the road. “I like you more than I should. Didn’t think that shit would ever happen.”


“`Cause I don’t wanna like you,” Chris said bluntly. “You and me don’t go together. We’re hella opposite.” Though what he was saying was true, his words still stung.

“I know…” I said.

Chris turned down my street. I hadn’t even realized that we were so close to my house. “That dude likes you, the one I was talkin to in the library–Jason.”

“How do you know?” I was interested in hearing his explanation.

“`Cause I can just tell. When I said your name, his face lit up and shit. He was just sittin there, lookin around like he was waitin for somebody to come. Figured he was waitin for you and all, since I saw you talkin to him the other day. Told him you was still in detention and wouldn’t be out for like another half hour. And then he said he didn’t mind waitin, that he was gonna sit there until you came.”

I was kinda bewildered by all of this. “Did he really say that?”

Chris pulled up into my driveway. He shut off the engine and looked at me. For the first time in the four years that I had known him, Chris actually looked serious; he didn’t have that stupid cocky-ass smile on his face that he usually wore, he just looked really sincere. I was almost amazed.

“If Jason said he was gonna wait for me,” I said, “then how come he wasn’t there when I went to the library?”

Chris turned his face away from me. “Told `im to leave. I told him that he might as well just take his ass home, `cause you wasn’t gonna come.”

“Why did you tell him that?”

Taking a deep breath, Chris said, “`Cause I didn’t want you to go off with him…I wanted you to go with me. And that’s what I’m talkin about, I’m not supposed to care…” He stopped talking.

I didn’t really know what to feel. I didn’t know if I should’ve been angry at Chris for making Jason leave, mad at Jason for not waiting for me like he said he would, or should I be happy that Chris waited for me, and that whether he meant to or not, he had shown that there was a part of him that actually did care about me. I felt a mixture of all those emotions and I didn’t know what to say back to Chris. Again, we sat in awkward silence.

“Are you gonna get out?” Chris asked.

“Do you want me to?”

“Yeah and no.” Chris folded his arms around the steering wheel and rested his head gently against the horn, with his face turned toward me. “You’re right,” he said.

“Right about what?”

“All we do is fight, fuck, and go to detention.” I laughed a little and Chris did the same. “We don’t talk, we don’t hang out. We basically don’t even really like each other. But for the past two weeks we’ve been fuckin nearly everyday. That shit is crazy,” Chris said. “I usually don’t give a fuck about who I’m fuckin…but you…I fuckin didn’t think this shit was gonna end up like this.”

“Me either,” I said. “But I’m kinda glad it did.”

“Why?” Chris asked. “You probably have more in common with that pretty dude than you have with me. You can probably talk to him bout all kinda shit, you’ll laugh at his stupid ass jokes and he’ll laugh at yours; you’ll take corny-ass walks through the park; when you go to school you don’t gotta worry bout if he’s gonna ignore you, and when you fuck him, you don’t gotta worry that he might not like you after. You can’t have that with me.”

“And maybe I’m stupid as fuck,” I said, “but that’s the reason why I like bein with you, `cause you don’t do all those things. You’re right, you do ignore me and when we’re fuckin I’m sure most of the time that you don’t feel anything emotional about it, you just wanna get off. But sometimes I know that when we…have sex…that it kinda means somethin to you. It means somethin to me. Like you told me one time, if I really wanted to, I can always find somebody to fuck. I mean it’s not really hard to find so-called straight football players that would probably love me to suck their dick, but I don’t. If I wanted to be with Jason, I wouldn’t be here with you right now.”

Chris didn’t say anything, he just looked at me. “You’re a fuckin dumb-ass,” he said, bursting out into one of his cocky grins. “All this Hallmark bullshit is about to make me fuckin throw up.”

“Fuck, Chris. You always gotta fuck up the mood.”

“Just playin,” Chris said, “don’t get all PMS-ish.”

Slightly annoyed, I opened the door to the truck and was about to step out, when Chris pulled me back in. He grabbed me by the back of my neck and pulled me onto his lips. The kiss started off hard but soon it became gentle, and our tongues brushed up against each other. Chris’ grip on the back of my neck loosened, but he still held on to me, sucking my bottom lip and brushing my hair with his fingers. It was like every nerve in my body was tingling at once, and my body heated up like I had just stepped into an inferno. I didn’t want him to let go of me. But after three minutes–it felt like three hours–Chris gently pulled away from me. I could barely breathe and warm sweat rolled down my back. “That was for this mornin’,” Chris told me. He leaned forward and kissed me again, this time longer than the first, and he rubbed my dick through my jeans.

“Let’s go to my room,” I told him. “My mother isn’t home.”

Gently biting the side of my neck, Chris said, “I can’t. Got somethin I gotta do. Later.”

I wanted him to fuck me right there in that truck, but I managed to use a little self-control. Reluctantly, I pulled away from Chris and stepped out of the car. As I was about to get out the second time, Chris said to me, “Don’t fuck him, B.”


“Jason. I don’t want you to fuck him. I don’t care if you chill with him, but I don’t want him diggin you out.” Chris had this very serious face on his face.

Before I really had a chance to think about my answer, I said, “I won’t.”

Chris nodded his head slightly. “Promise me.”

Wow, he was really serious about it. “I don’t make promises, Chris.”

“Make one for me.”

It was hard for me to say it, not because I didn’t want to say it, but because I didn’t know if what I was about to say would be the complete truth. “I won’t do anything with him.”

Chris just stared at me as though he was probing my mind with his eyes. After a while he said, “Okay.”

I stepped out of the truck and watched as Chris drove away down the street; I waited until his truck was out of sight and then went inside. I went into my bedroom and plopped on my unmade bed. The sheets still smelled like sweat and cum from when Chris and I had fucked the day before. As I sniffed the sheets, my dick got hard, wishing that Chris was here now in my bed, that I had his eleven inch dick in my mouth. Unbuckling my jeans, I pulled out my dick and started to jerk myself off slowly. Suddenly images of Mr.Wilson came into my head; I don’t know why I thought of him, but I thought about his big dick throbbing against the tight pants he wore; I wondered what it would’ve tasted like. And then I thought of Jason. I wondered how big his dick was and how he looked like naked. I imagined him on top of me, his sweaty, slender, muscular toned body grinding against mine, his dick grazing against my asscrack. Images of him fucking me hard and fast entered my head and I couldn’t get them out–and I kinda didn’t want to get them out. As I jerked off, I tried to think of Chris only, but it didn’t work. Jason kept popping up. I told Chris that I wasn’t going to do anything with Jason, but I didn’t know if I was going to be able to keep that promise. Seconds before I was about to cum, the doorbell rang.

Quickly I stuffed my dick back into my pants, zipped them up. As I jogged into the living room, I assumed that Chris had changed his mind and come back. However, when I reached the door and opened it, I almost screamed in shock–
Jason was on the other side of the door and he looked so fuckin incredible, like a fuckin supermodel, that I thought I was gonna cum right there in my jeans. “Hey, Brandon. Can I come in?”

It was really hard for me to believe that was really happening, that Jason was really standing on the other side of the door. He smiled at me, that perfect, dazzling white smile that my skin tingle. His hazel eyes glimmered in the remaining sunlight. “Jason, what are you doin here?”

Jason took a step toward me. His scent was a lot sweeter than Chris’ but just as hypnotic, if not slightly more. “Came to see you. This a bad time or something?”

I didn’t know what to say. I was stunned. And then I finally regained my senses. “No, come in.” I stepped aside and Jason entered my house. I still couldn’t believe this was happening. I knew that things were really about to get a lot more complicated than I needed them to be.

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