Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 48601 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48601 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
He grins.
“Something wrong, Moaner?”
I glare at him. “Stop fucking calling me that.”
Jamison just keeps grinning, his fierce dark eyes burning right into mine.
“What can I do you for.”
I swallow thickly, clearing my throat as I purse my lips.
“My room?” I say primly.
“That an invitation?”
I blush, biting my lip before I scowl at him.
“No, it most certainly is not. I mean what you did to my room.”
A smile creeps over his perfectly chiseled jaw.
“Oh, you noticed, huh?”
My mouth tightens.
“I’d have to be blind to miss pictures of a bunch of big dicks all over my room.”
He laughs, throwing his head back, his muscles rippling as he chuckles before looking back down at me.
“Oh, Moaner, Moaner, Moaner. Big?”
He winks.
“Nah, those were just regular dicks. I wouldn’t shock your delicate sensitives with big dicks.”
I glare at him, “Just hundreds of normal ones.”
“Exactly! You’re welcome, by the way.”
I roll my eyes.
“Why are you a child?”
“So what do you think?” he shrugs. “I’m thinking about getting into interior design.”
“With dicks.”
“Gotta set yourself apart from the herd somehow.”
“With dicks.”
His grin widens. “You seem to like saying that a lot.”
I blush.
“You can also just call them cocks, you know.”
The blush on my face burns fiercely, and Jamison’s grin grows seen wider. He knows damn well he’s making me squirm, and he’s enjoying every freaking second of it.
“Say it with me now, Moaner. Caaaaawwwkk—”
“You’re absurd.”
I swallow the heat from my face as I push past him back out of the garage.
“I try. Also, that’s really adorable, you know.”
“What is,” I spit, turning to him.
“That you thought those were big.”
He steps towards me, and I swallow thickly, the heat creeping over my body traitorously, my skin tingling even as I scowl as hard as I can at him.
God, why is he not wearing a shirt?
“I—I have to go,” I mutter.
“Right,” he grins, leaning against the door frame, his muscled, inked arms crossing over his bare chest. “I mean, you’ve got a room full of cocks waiting for you. I imagine you’ve got plenty to do.”
I groan, and I’m a second away from flipping him off and storming off, when he brings two fingers up between us. He raises his other hand, and suddenly he’s using a finger from that other hand to make this crude little flicking motion at the apex of his two other fingers. My face goes bright red, instantly, at the disgusting little display.
“And what exactly is that supposed to be?” I toss at him; even though it’s clearly supposed to be a crude pantomime of female masturbation.
Jamison makes a sad face. “Aww, man, Moaner, I’m so sorry. Have you not discovered self-love yet? I mean, with your complete lack of a social life, to say the least of a sex life, I’d hoped you were at least taking care of yourself?”
I roll my eyes.
“You know what, Jamison? My ‘self-love’ is none of your concern. But more importantly?” I grin at him, wagging my brows. “I mean, I’m just impressed that you even had a vague sense of where the clit is.”
He grins, his eyes flashing as he steps closer to me, making my breath catch.
“Oh, Moaner, believe me.”
He steps closer, and I shiver, my skin pricking and forbidden heat pooling between my thighs.
“If you ever need to me show you, I’d have zero problem finding your clit for you.”
The blush blooms across my face, and I stammer, looking for some sort of retort. But it’s impossible with the way he’s got my whole body burning and melting horribly for him. So instead, I just flip him off, which is such a lame response, and the triumphant grin on his face tells me he’s very much aware of that too.
I whirl in a huff, heat blooming across my face and my body clenched tight and shivering as I storm off.
“Have fun, Moaner!” he calls back to me, to which I only flip him off again over my shoulder, not even daring myself to open my mouth.
Thirteen years ago, Jamison Scott pulled my pigtail and called me a fart-licker. Thirteen years later, we’ve graduated to crude hand gestures and pictures of genitals taped to my walls. And as terrible as it is—as shameful, and awful, and confusing, and self-hating as it is?
…Thirteen years later, I’m still as hopelessly and horribly in love with Jamison Scott as I was when I was five.
2
Jamison
There’s a tightness in my jaw, a growl in my throat as I watch her march away in a huff.
Fuck.
I almost want to congratulate myself. I mean, for one, Ramona keeps her door locked, and picking locks is kind of more of my brother Ethan’s gig not mine. But I pulled it off. Secondly, let’s appreciate the fortitude it takes a straight dude to print off two-hundred pictures of dicks from the internet. My browsing history is fucked because of this, by the way, and I’ve been getting Facebook ads for gay singles websites all damn week. But, totally worth it.