Quarantined With My Straight Roommate Read online

Page 12


  “Good. I’m glad you’re happy.”

  “Yeah… yeah… You know. If you’re ever bored and horny, you can text me. This is my number.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Tom.”

  “Yeah. Guess not. What about you? Are you single?”

  “Listen, Tom. I gotta go.”

  I hung up and tossed my phone into my pile of laundry. Fuck this. I couldn’t let Tom do this to me. I was young when we met. He was the first guy I ever loved. But he wrecked us. He wrecked his life. But that didn’t mean I had to stop going after what I wanted.

  I thrust open Max’s door, and he sat up, stunned.

  “What do you want?”

  “Get up. Now.”

  “What the fuck? How’s your hand?”

  The hand hurt like hell, but the stitches helped.

  “My hand is fine. Come here. Now.”

  Max stood up, thrusting his hands into his pockets and approached me.

  “Are you okay?”

  “No. I’m not okay. I told you I loved you earlier.”

  “Yeah, then you took it back.”

  “Fuck that. I don’t take it back. And I don’t give a shit if you think it’s funny or if you laugh or whatever the fuck you want to do. I care about you, Max. And I meant it.”

  “Shut up.”

  “Don’t fucking brush me off. I know that whatever bullshit’s gone on between us, you feel it too. Like it’s different. Like there are moments when we can see each other properly.”

  “Listen, Texan. I thought you didn’t do ‘talking about feelings’.”

  “You’re right. I don’t.”

  I took my good hand and grabbed his cheek, pulling his face close to mine and kissing him. No more talking about feelings. I had to have him. Now. He might fight and bitch, and make my life a living hell. But Max Patel was mine.

  And I had no intention of letting him go.

  26

  MAX PATEL

  I shouldn’t kiss him. I shouldn’t let him lead me on. I know this ‘thing’ between us isn’t going anywhere and what Tony wants is a warm body in his bed, a tight hole to fuck, and full lips wrapped around his cock. He might tease me, he might watch Project Runway with me, but he doesn’t love me. I don’t know what mental gymnastics this crazy Texan has done to convince himself that whatever has happened between us is love.

  He’s hot-blooded, demanding, and he probably sensed that I was slipping away. Like a whirlpool, he drew me into his center. I pressed my hands against his firm chest and let him kiss me. If I’m not careful, he would have me on my knees again. Fuck. Okay, I guessed wrong. He pushed me up against the wall and reached around front with his good hand to unfasten my pants. I feel his hardness protruding from his trousers, a thick mamba pressed against his thigh, urging to get out and enter me. He has everything except the personality I dreamed of: well hung cock, nice to look at and even nicer between my lips. The dreamy body of a football star. Green eyes that remind me of a summer lake house and brown hair that turns blond after too much time in the sun.

  He pulled away from me for only a moment. I imagined his cheeks flushed as he ripped my pants to the ground and exposed my ass, cupping it and then spreading the cheeks so his finger darted around my tightened hole. Tony dragged his tongue from the lobe of my ear all the way to my collarbone. He sucked on the flesh on my shoulders, threatening to leave a mark of his dominance. His possession.

  He didn’t say those words because he loved me. He wanted to own me. And I think the crazy bastard believed that those two things were the same. Tony squirted an enormous amount of lube between my cheeks and roughly pushed his finger into my ass so I moaned as he coated my tight backdoor in goopy clear liquid, preparing me for entry. I’m more than prepared for him. My thighs tensed and I grunted as his stiffness parted my cheeks as Tony teased my backdoor with the helmet of his well-hung dusky pink cock.

  Normally, he’d growl something barbaric into my ear to let me know just how little he gives a fuck about me, just how much he was using me for his pleasure and his pleasure only. His hands ran across my shoulders and then wrapped around my neck. He didn’t squeeze, but he grasped me firmly enough so I knew he could if he wanted to. He could do anything to me if he wanted to and I wouldn’t have the power to stop him.

  I pushed my hips back into him, hoping to force his cock to enter me and give us both the pleasure we crave. Hell-bent on teasing me, he chuckled and tightened his grasp of my throat.

  “Tony,” I groaned hoarsely, pleading and calling his name, playing into his sick, arrogant fantasies about owning me.

  “Shut up,” he growled, but then relented, sliding the first inch of his thick cock inside my well-lubed backdoor. I grunted and dug my fingers into the drywall, picking up paint between my black fingernails as I braced myself for more of his cock stretching me open. He grunted and pushed again, halfway inside my ass. Oh, fuck. Is getting fucked the ass supposed to feel this fucking good? Tony grabbed my hips, fingers digging into my waist desperately as he thrust the rest of his cock inside me, sliding into my tightest passage and massaging every inch of my walls with his enormous cock. I cried out and braced myself against the wall as he slid out of me and then thrust his dick back in. Fuck. Tony could fuck with such emotion that with each stroke, I sensed his agony, his anger with me and then….

  His lips wrapped around my neck and instead of pounding my ass, he drifted between my legs, tasting my flesh and cupping my cock in his hands as he made love to me. No… I’m not used to this Tony. I pushed my hips back to force him to fuck me harder, but he forced me against the wall, using his weight to pin me there.

  “Fucking enjoy it, Patel,” he growled.

  I gave in, submitting to him, letting him make love to me until he groaned and erupted inside me. No condoms this time. I let Tony cum in my ass, pumping me with his thick, white seed, filling me with warmth and letting me shudder and whimper against the wall as he pulled out of me. I didn’t have to ask to know he wouldn’t be getting on his knees for me tonight.

  He’d given me everything, and I’d given him the only thing I ever had: my body. He kissed me and pulled my pants up tenderly, rubbing my ass cheek with his hand.

  “You drive me fucking crazy,” he breathed, resting his forearm against the wall, pinning me there as I faced him.

  “You’re one to talk.”

  “How do you do it? How do you fuck without catching feelings?”

  “Tony…”

  “Shut up.”

  He pressed his finger to my lips and then kissed me again.

  “I want you, Max. If you don’t want me, I get it. But don’t fuck with me. I can’t take it. I can’t take another dick head guy ruining my life.”

  Why was he acting like he was the sensitive one suddenly? Why did he need an answer from me? He kissed me and went to bed, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

  In the morning, I rolled out of bed late. I had a couple emails from companies that wanted to interview me. Not exactly a job, but not bad. A friend of mine who worked at a local brewery had a gig for me which wouldn’t pay much by city living standards, only $300. But I needed the work. And the money. We were running out of groceries and I was sure Tony wouldn’t want to spot me again.

  He was already up, showered and dressed as usual, with a white button-down shirt and tan shorts. The rich white boy uniform.

  “Hey,” he said, “want coffee?”

  I could get used to this. For all his flaws, Tony never let me get past the kitchen without a cup of coffee and a huge breakfast.

  “Thanks.”

  “You sleep okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Cool.”

  Before I could bring up the night before, the doorbell rang.

  “Who the fuck is that?” Tony muttered under his breath.

  Shit. It was probably Julissa. I groaned and rubbed my forehead.

  “I’ll get it.”

  27

  TONY STONE
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  His hair was nearly shoulder length now. Closer to black than brown. How many weeks had we been forced together? I’m a fucking idiot for falling so fast. I “get” Max now. He’s down for adventure. He’s down for anything. But what he isn’t ready for is a serious relationship. I’m still a Southern boy. I want the real thing.

  Tom’s phone call made me realize what kind of guy I’m attracted to. The kind of guy who can make me laugh. The kind of guy who gets how fucking crazy I am and doesn’t want to change me. Unfortunately, that kind of guy thinks I don’t want to be tied down and fuck it, he doesn’t want to change me.

  If I want Max, I’ll have to change. I’ll have to stop treating him like a dick, like he’s just a piece of ass I don’t give a fuck about. He’s more than that. He’s the man I want. He opened the door and his sister sauntered in. She looked like him, except shorter, and she had a worse attitude. Lips always fixed in a scowl and thick but well-manicured brows.

  “Oh hey, Tony,” she snickered.

  “G’morning. Would you like a cup of coffee?”

  “No, thanks.”

  “Suit yourself. I was just sitting down for breakfast. Would you like some?”

  Julissa folded her arms and rolled her eyes, sauntering over to the kitchen island and sitting at Max’s computer. He sat next to her saying nothing. Why didn’t he ever stand up to her? Siblings. You can’t live with them, can’t live without them I suppose. She set her purse on the table and pulled out some sticky looking lip product.

  “Max. I’m here for the bike, so you get the key and I’ll talk to Tony. I’m sure he’d love to keep me company.”

  “I’m not giving you the bike.”

  “I brought money. $600. And I know you need it, so hurry.”

  She set her wallet on the table and Max scurried off to his room. Damn, Patel. I didn’t know things were that bad with him. I mean, I knew he was an artist, and the perpetually broke sort of artist, but holy shit. That bike of his had to be worth at least $1,000.

  “How you doing, Julissa?”

  “I’m doing well. So. Are you like… involved with my brother?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. OJ?”

  “No thanks. Listen, I know Max. I don’t know what’s going on between the two of you, but he has like a thing for turning straight guys. I mean, I’m not trying to be a gossip, but you seem like a decent guy.”

  “Thanks for the warning. I can handle myself around Max.”

  I was seeing that they were cut from the same cloth. Only, I found Max’s version of insufferable far easier to contend with. I got along easier with men than women, even if plenty of women wanted me. It wasn’t the same thing.

  “Oh, I’m sure you can. So are you the top? Never mind. Don’t answer that. Good luck getting him to move out once he’s here. We lived together and it did not work out.”

  “Right. He had some type of problem with your man?”

  Julissa snickered.

  “Is that what he told you? Listen, Max had an eviction notice coming for a long time. He fucks anything that walks.”

  She leaned in.

  “Don’t tell him I told you this, okay, but I know when we used to go clubbing, he would go to the club bathroom and have sex with randoms. I mean… ew. Be careful. You might catch something if you aren’t careful.”

  I was too stunned to say anything and then Max came out of his room with his arms folded.

  “Ju, I’m not giving you the fucking bike. I might need money, but this is ridiculous.”

  “I thought you might say that.”

  She pulled out her phone.

  “Yeah, babe. Come in. He won’t listen to reason.”

  “This is fucking ridiculous! Mark can get his own bike.”

  Julissa rolled her eyes and popped a piece of gum in her mouth.

  “I’m tired of your bullshit. Plus, you still owe me like $300 from our family trip to Italy.”

  “Ju, go home. I’m done playing this game and I need a fucking break from you.”

  I watched her out of the corner of my eye to see if she would leave. Another man pushed my front door open and when I saw him, I dropped my coffee mug. It shattered and coffee splashed everywhere. Julissa shrieked.

  “Oh my God, Tony! So clumsy!”

  Her boyfriend froze in the doorway, and we stared at each other. I wasn’t thinking about the mug. I was thinking about the last guy I’d been with before Max. It had only been a one-time thing. I met him at a finance event. I didn’t even know his name. We hadn’t gone all the way. Just fooling around. But that “anonymous” guy stood right in my goddamned living room.

  28

  MAX PATEL

  I’d know that look anywhere. It’s the “holy shit we fucked and I don’t want anyone else in this room to know we fucked” look. Usually it’s reserved for fratty assholes and theater gays having brunch at opposite tables of their liberal arts college dining hall. Or eighteen-year-old teenagers and their married high school teachers. Oops. Or I guess Tony and Mark. If Peter were here, he would have screeched and fumbled the entire situation.

  I clamped my hand over my mouth as Julissa cluelessly asked.

  “Do you two know each other.”

  “No!” Mark blurted out as Tony blurted out, “Yes.”

  Mark saved quickly.

  “Yeah. Um. We must have… uh… played football together one time. You know Cody?”

  Tony nodded.

  “Yeah. I know Cody.”

  Liar. He didn’t know a fucking Cody. Okay, I couldn’t be sure of that. But Cody’s not like Mike. Everyone knows a Mike. But if you know a Cody, you wouldn’t get him confused with anyone else.

  “Okay,” Julissa said, “Whatever. Now Mark… Talk some sense into my brother.”

  “Listen, man,” Mark started.

  Tony stepped between us.

  “No. This discussion ends now. Julissa, I have a lot of respect for you as Max’s sister but respectfully, I’m asking the two of you to get the fuck on out of here.

  “Um, I’m sorry, but you should stay out of it.”

  I couldn’t let Tony stand up for me without saying something.

  “Tony’s right. You should leave. Now.”

  He had something on Mark. And we had the upper hand. I didn’t know what the hell happened between them but if it worked out in my favor, I wouldn’t complain.

  “Mark?! Say something!”

  “I’m sorry, Ju. There’s nothing I can do.”

  Tony nodded.

  “That’s right, Mark. You and I don’t want any problems between us, right?”

  “No. Ju, come on.”

  “What the fuck? How are you supposed to get to work?”

  “I said, we’re leaving!”

  He grabbed Julissa by the arm and the two of them walked out of the apartment. Just like that.

  “So…” I said to Tony, “There’s a story there.”

  “It ain’t any of your business.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You need to learn to stand up to her,” he snapped.

  “Geez, I was saying thank you. Normal people respond to that politely.”

  “I’m serious, Max. What the fuck is up with that, huh? You let her walk all over you.”

  “I owe her. I’m kind of a dick. Like, a bad brother.”

  “The second you were out of earshot she talked shit about you.”

  “She’s my sister, Tony.”

  “I know. And I’m trying to be respectful, but it’s hard to watch.”

  “If it’s so hard to watch, why bother step in? I’m just a pushover bitch, right?”

  “I didn’t mean that.”

  “I get it, Tony. You’re the manliest guy in the fucking room. Well guess what, you still suck cock just like I do and you aren’t better than me.”

  “Can you chill for one fucking second?”

  “No. I’m tired of people acting like I’m weak because I don’t want to pick a fight every
five seconds.”

  “I wasn’t picking a fucking fight. I was helping you out so you didn’t let them walk all over you.”

  “So I’m a doormat?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Yes, you fucking did!”

  Tony’s phone buzzed on the counter.

  “I don’t have time for this, Max. I have bigger problems.”

  He grabbed his phone and stormed off. Ugh. He could be so annoying sometimes. All the time. But I had to check myself. He was trying to help. And he did help. Julissa didn’t even text me. I got a text from an unknown number.

  978-555-3123: Say one word to Ju and I’ll fuck you up.

  What the fuck? Oh. I get it. Mark. I had nothing to say to him. But I had everything to say to Tony. Unfortunately, he hardly talked to me for a week. But every night he came into my bed. Knocking on the door and sliding between the sheets. Fucking me slowly and kissing me on the lips before leaving. What happened to him?

  “Who texted you?” I asked him one night and he kept fucking me, pressing his hand down over my mouth, pressing me into the bed as he used me. He mixed gentleness with force and each night, he left me more and more confused.

  If this was Tony’s fucked up idea of love, it wasn’t mine. I finally caught him in the living room one morning. I had to set my alarm to five in the fucking morning to catch him before his aggressively sweaty morning workout. I waited in the kitchen, lurking in the shadows until he opened his door and sauntered out, sweatpants slung low around his hips so his boxers peeked out. Fuck.

  I tried not to think about how hard he made me and focus on the fact that he was pissing me off.

  “What are you doing up, Patel?”

  “It’s been five days since we’ve had a proper conversation?”

  “Are you sure?” He mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

  “Yeah, I’m sure. You climbing into bed with me for sex isn’t the same as a conversation.”

  “To me it is.”

  “What the fuck happened to you? One thing I know you get a text message and next thing I know, you’re fucking off for days without another word. What the hell happened?”