Faking It Right (Straight Detour #1)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

RYKER

You know what I didn’t need today? A soggy trek to campus, only to discover my professor canceled class without a whisper of warning.

Just when I thought my day couldn’t get any shittier, my phone rang.

Mom. I answered, bracing myself for whatever fresh hell her matchmaking madness had in store for me.

“Biscuit, you’re being needlessly dramatic about this,” she chided me.

I snorted at the accusation. “You should take it as a compliment, considering I learned the fine art of overreacting theatrics from you.”

“That may be true, but it’s only one date while you’re home on break. Maylin is a lovely girl—”

I groaned dramatically because mother of fuck, Mom.

She fancied herself an expert matchmaker, though her selections belonged in a psychology textbook rather than my dating life.

Who could forget the woman who interrupted our dinner to conduct an impromptu séance to ask her dead hamster if I was “the one” for her?

Or the lady who showed up to meet my sister and insisted eating food was “conformist” as she licked the condensation off her water glass while maintaining aggressive eye contact?

“Mom, I don’t want a girl,” I protested.

“Oh, have you finally decided to try dating Harley?” She sounded entirely too enthusiastic about the prospect of me hooking up with my best friend and roommate.

It was a running family joke that he was my perfect platonic soul mate, but my mother and sister were unreasonably eager for our friendship to take a romantic detour.

If I say yes, will you finally leave me alone?

I knew better than to voice that thought, though.

Throwing fuel on her flaming hopes that I’d end up with Harley was bound to spark a wildfire of epic proportions, and I wasn’t equipped to deal with that level of chaos today.

I sighed, feeling the full weight of my shitastic day.

“No, if I wanted someone, I’d prefer a woman, not a girl.

But I don’t want anybody. What’s so wrong with being single? ”

“Do you really expect me to believe that you aren’t tired of wearing out your right hand while watching porn?” She snickered at me as I groaned. Whenever she said stuff like that, I wished we could be a normal family who thought sex was too icky to discuss openly.

“We are not discussing that,” I growled. “And I’m definitely not going out with Melee or whatever her name was. I’d rather walk through a minefield than endure another one of your blind date catastrophes.”

“Maylin,” she corrected. “And it won’t be a disaster. She’s very nice and—”

“I don’t want nice.” Nice was the death knell of excitement; good girls were wasted on me.

“Well, I’m sure she’s capable of being naughty when the mood strikes, if that’s your concern.”

I gazed skyward with a long-suffering sigh.

The rain had stopped, but the storm clouds loomed ominously, threatening a second act of nature’s drama.

“Mom, can we not do this? It’s been a seriously shitty day, and the idea of a blind date with your cousin’s sister-in-law’s brother’s best friend’s girlfriend’s neighbor’s daughter’s coworker is giving me heartburn.

” Her connections always had more twists than a pretzel factory.

“Fine, I’ll bide my time until you’re in a more agreeable mood,” she relented, a tiny victory I savored. Mom was as stubborn as they came. “Go home and let Harley work his magic on you. Maybe he can knock some sense into that thick skull of yours.”

“He has a better shot at wooing me than what’s-her-name does.” I chuckled at the ridiculous notion.

“Here’s hoping!” The overly optimistic lilt in her voice made me roll my eyes so hard I almost saw my own brain.

“I’m back at my apartment, so I’ll catch you later. Love you.”

“We’ll chat soon. Love you, biscuit,” she said with enough warmth to make me feel like I was wrapped in a giant, cozy blanket, even through the phone.

As I ended the call, I slumped against the elevator wall, heading up to the apartment I shared with Harley.

All I wanted was to dive into bed and sleep away the terrible day, even if it was only three in the afternoon.

But my day cranked up its level of what-the-fuckery when I walked into my apartment and came face-to-face with a sight that broke my overtired brain.

Harley lounged on our couch in the buff, his legs spread wide, while a naked man knelt between them, trying to win a gold medal in oral gymnastics.

My friend had his head tipped back against the cushions, his eyes closed in bliss as he rested a hand on the back of the enthusiastic performer’s head.

It was such an unexpected sight that my only instinct was to shut the door behind me, ensuring no innocent passerby in the hallway would get an eyeful of free porn.

At the sound of the door clicking shut, Harley opened his eyes and met my gaze.

His lips curled into a lazy grin as he assessed my reaction.

“Hey, you’re home early,” he said nonchalantly, as if he weren’t hosting a live demonstration of the Kama Sutra on our couch with a man attempting to swallow his dick whole.

The stranger jerked back, letting out a startled yelp as he glanced back at me. “Oh, shit! I’m so sorry—”

Harley, smooth as always, reached out to redirect the man’s face back to its original task.

His thumb traced a line under the guy’s chin, a slow caress that was so unexpectedly tender it caused me to swallow against my parched throat.

“Don’t be sorry,” he murmured, his voice low and sultry, sending shivers racing through the poor guy. “Keep sucking, beautiful.”

“But—”

Harley stroked under the man’s chin as if he were petting a particularly affectionate kitten. “Would you really deny me?”

The rich timbre of Harley’s voice made my stomach drop faster than my standards on tequila night, especially as my eyes betrayed me and wandered to the monster python standing at full attention, clearly on the lookout for a warm place to hibernate.

I’d had my fair share of naked moments with Harley during skinny-dipping escapades at my parents’ house, but I had always treated his anatomy like an airline safety demonstration.

Now, I couldn’t tear my gaze away from what looked like the lovechild of a redwood and a missile, glistening as if it had been polished with the tears of lesser men.

I shouldn’t have looked, but it was like trying to resist a train wreck. My heart did that peculiar thing where it felt like it was plummeting straight to my stomach, as if my body had mistaken the situation for an amusement park ride gone rogue.

I’d seen plenty of dicks in porn before, but nothing compared to discovering my roommate possessed the Burj Khalifa of dicks. For some reason, that knowledge was sending my insides into a tailspin that I absolutely refused to dissect.

I needed a drink. Or therapy. Or both.

Definitely both.

Harley’s honeyed tone worked wonders on the man, who eagerly went down on him again without so much as a whimper.

The guy on his knees looked like he was trying to deep-throat a cannon.

Did he have to dislocate his jaw like a snake?

Was there a secret technique? A training regimen?

Did Harley hand out a manual and safety gear before hookups?

I watched in disbelief as the stranger took Harley down to the base with a muffled moan like it was no big deal. It was a feat that seemed to defy the very laws of physics.

Harley lounged against the cushions once more, stroking the man’s hair again. “That’s it, gorgeous. Just like that.”

I remained frozen, unable to tear my eyes away from the spectacle they were putting on. It was like live-action porn, only instead of a beautiful woman, it was a dude enthusiastically sucking his dick. Mine stiffened in response, which definitely wasn’t supposed to happen.

But Harley’s breathy sighs and sensuous pose were seriously fucking me up.

I may have been straight, but I wasn’t blind to the fact that my friend was hotter than a jalapeno in Hell.

With his blond hair, blue eyes, and stunning face, he put models to shame.

And right now, he was radiating some serious sex pheromones that scrambled my ability to think straight. Literally.

“Sorry,” I finally managed to stammer, my brain catching up to the fact that I was standing there gawking at my roommate’s cock like a tourist trap of the world’s biggest dildo. Which, to be fair, it probably rivaled.

“No problem,” Harley replied with infuriating casualness, as if I’d borrowed his pen rather than interrupted while being serviced by a guy who deserved a trophy for Best in Blow Jobs. “Did you need something?”

Did I need something? What I needed was brain bleach, or maybe the ability to stop staring at the python that had apparently been living with me for three years without my knowledge. I couldn’t believe there was a cage that could contain that thing.

“I, uh, no, I just—“ My eyes betrayed me again, darting down to the man working that one-eyed monster. It looked even bigger now that I was trying not to look at it. “I’ll come back later. When you’re, um, less impressive?”

Fuck. That wasn’t what I meant to say.

“Uh, I mean when you’re done,” I corrected quickly. “Not less impressive. Not that you’re—I mean, obviously, you’re not…” I gestured vaguely at the general area of his crotch, then immediately regretted it. “Forget it. I’ll go to my room and give you two some privacy.”

Harley ran his fingers through his partner’s brown hair. “Why don’t you take a seat and stay a while? I’m enjoying the audience.”

I arched my eyebrows at him. “You seriously expect me to participate in your voyeurism kink?”

He smirked at me with a level of sexy smugness that should be illegal. “You might learn something.”

“I’m not interested in lessons on how to suck your dick, sorry.”