Chapter 10
TIM
Mark’s an incredible fuck. He’s not shy or apprehensive.
He’s bold. Fearless. The camera thing threw him, but I could tell he wanted it.
Keith wasn’t down with that. He seems like the kind of guy who’s so freaked out by all the warnings he’s heard about these things coming back around in the form of blackmail or via a sex tape, so he wouldn’t risk it.
Considering Mark’s mom, I figured he’d be the same, but he just went for it. I’m impressed.
He’s not like the guys I usually fuck.
I was surprised when he said that shit about paying for his own place and that he was offended that I thought he’d taken his parents’ money for it. Most of the guys I fuck around with eagerly accept their parents’ money and aren’t ashamed of it even a little bit.
There’s something different about him. Something I can’t explain.
Something I wish I wasn’t so turned on by, but when he answered the door, his expression begging for it—every mannerism suggesting he was interested as he posed for me, showing off his impressive build—I realized I could deny how hot he was all I wanted, but that didn’t keep my cock from telling the truth.
Now we lie across his couch together.
He keeps an inch between us. I wonder if Keith told him I don’t like to touch after I fuck or if he isn’t interested himself. If he would rather keep the filthy drug dealer away to remind himself that he isn’t making horrible life choices.
He faces away from me, toward the coffee table. Fine by me since it gives me a chance to stare at his ass without him knowing.
I have my phone in my hand. Grabbed it right after we did the deed.
“I’m deleting it now,” I say.
“Oh, you don’t save them for memories?” he asks in a playful tone, rolling around onto his other side to face me.
“I never save them. It’s not about going back and watching them. I just enjoy the rush I get from fucking while it’s on. It’s like when I realized that girl was watching us the other day.”
“I saw that you enjoyed that.”
“Makes it more exciting.”
“It’s naughty,” he says. “I have a feeling that’s what you like about it.”
“In the best of ways.”
I should grab my clothes and get out of here, but I don’t want to move.
The power of that explosive fuck session has left me filled with excitement.…It was intense. So fucking intense. I’m still trying to catch my breath.
“Is this how it started with you and Keith?”
“Yeah.”
It’s a fucking lie. It was never this hot. And I never needed it this much.
“Then he got all weird,” I continue. “I could tell he was feeling more, and I knew I should have told him to fuck off sooner.”
“You really should have.”
“Have you told him about our little fuck sessions?”
“Pfft. No.”
“You plan on telling him?”
He’s quiet as his gaze drops to the cushion beneath him.
“A little pissed that he’s still hanging around with those guys,” I say. “I noticed that the other night. It didn’t happen to him, so I understand.”
“But I bet you still feel betrayed. And Keith’s the kind who wants to be around the cool crowd.”
“Then why was he fucking around with you?”
“Because you’re cool if you’re fucking around with the drug dealer.”
“You conceited asshole,” he says with a smile, and it makes me smile back. He rolls his eyes. “I’m gonna get a drink. You want anything?”
“I’m good.”
He slides off the couch and walks to his kitchen, his tight ass shifting with each step, making my dick start to get hard again.
He pours himself a glass of water.
“You sure you don’t want anything? I have beers in the fridge.” He sounds so chill about what we’ve done. I wonder if he really feels nothing after what we just did.
That’s not possible. Our fucking was passionate—filled with excitement, hate, and sin.
We lost ourselves in that moment. Let ourselves be consumed by our lust for each other’s bodies.
I’ve never felt it like that. Like an itch that had to be scratched.
Like I need Mark again because these few times haven’t been enough.
Naw,” I say. “Thanks, though.”
He takes a drink, approaches the couch, and asks, “So you live with your nanna?”
“What’s it to you?”
“Just a question. Sorry. Are those off limits? I figured since we just fucked, we might be able to talk.”
“Get to know each other?” I ask. “Maybe get friendly and then end up like Keith?”
“I’m not Keith. And I’m not like those other guys you’ve fucked.”
“What makes you so different?”
I’m genuinely interested. Because there is something about him I can’t quite pin down…unlike him, who eagerly wants me to pin him down.
“I’m not stupid enough to think you’re capable of anything other than what we’re doing right now.”
The way he says it, I believe him.
“I know you just came down to the basement that night because you wanted to take advantage of me,” he says.
“Take advantage?”
“A predator. Swooping in on the prey. You knew I was weak. You knew I was hurting. Hell, you fucking even knew how I found out about what Morgan and Greg were up to.”
“You think I’m that terrible of a person?”
“Aren’t you?”
“I’d heard about what happened between you guys, and I’m happy to help anybody get a little revenge sex. If anything, I thought I was doing you a favor.”
He laughs. “Yeah, I’m sure. As if you didn’t get anything out of it?”
I smirk.
“You know how good a fuck you are, don’t you?” I ask, and his smile tells me everything I need to know.
“I know I can put in the work.”
“Then don’t act like you were my victim.”
“I wasn’t. I was just saying you thought I was.”
“For someone who doesn’t like people making assumptions about him, you sure don’t have a problem making them about others.”
“I’m wrong?” Mark asks.
“Yes, you’re wrong. I wanted to have a little fun that night. You clearly wanted the same thing.”
“Well, it’s been more than a night.” He takes a sip from his cup and then sets it on the coffee table, which only has a few textbooks and the used condom and lube packaging on it.
“What does it matter?” I ask.
“Is this how you lure guys in?”
“I told Keith what was up—”
“Come on. This isn’t just about Keith. What about Vince Launder and Mack Jacobs?”
I can’t believe I’m fucking listening to this. “Do I seem like I’m subtle about shit?”
“I think it’s more than coincidental that you have a long list of guys who are emotionally wrecked after fucking around with you.”
“This is bullshit,” I say. I lean forward and grab his cup off the table, taking a sip before setting it back down.
“Do I keep fucking even when I know they’re starting to get attached?
Yeah. But is it my fault I still want to get laid?
Is it my fault when I’ve told them the way things are?
I’m always honest. I get that Keith’s your friend and all, but you can ask him, and at no point in what we were doing was I unclear about what was going on.
When I kept saying it was just for fun, I meant it.
He’s the one who read more into what we were doing than was there. ”
“Why do you think that is? That it’s not just him?” Mark grabs his glass of water and takes another drink.
“Beats me.”
He glares at me like he’s skeptical.
“Okay. Once guys get into my life, they see all this other stuff that’s not just me being a douchebag drug dealer, and they think that means they might be able to win me over.
Like they’ll meet my nanna, Kitty. But I live with her because she’s got some medical issues.
She had cancer last year. We spent most of last spring pushing through it. ”
“Oh, shit,” he says, and it’s almost a whisper. And suddenly I realize, he’s thinking about his sister. I can see it on his face. See by how pale it got at the mere mention of cancer that it took him back to that dark point in his life.
“Anyway, I’ve been with her since I was sixteen,” I say, skipping any details that might make Mark reflect on his own shitty experience.
“My dad was the only one around when I was growing up, and he was never that great.
Was more interested in coke and meth than his kid.
He ended up leaving me at her house one day when she was supposed to be babysitting me.
And he never came back. She took me in as her own without even thinking twice about it.
So now that she has issues, I take care of her.
“Sometimes guys like Keith think that makes me some kind of saint. Like I’m a good guy because I have someone I care about…
or maybe, I don’t know, that I might be able to care about them that way, too.
But if anything, Nanna doesn’t mean that I have time for guys.
It means that I have too many things on my plate as it is. ”
“And so nothing else you do leads them to believe there’s more there?” Mark asks. “It’s because you have this nanna that you care about?”
The expression on his face assures me he knows there’s more to it than that, and so do I. I might as well be honest with him. Why the fuck wait for this to blow up in my face like it has in the past?
“I don’t know if you can tell, but I don’t have a lot of friends, so whoever I’m hooking up with ends up being the guy who I talk to about the shit that’s going on in my life. I don’t think that means I’m leading anyone on. Everybody needs someone to talk to.”
“I agree.” His judgment appears to have dissolved, but it’s replaced with pity.
“Don’t feel sorry for me. I don’t have friends because I choose not to have friends. Because I like my space, and I like not having to rely on other people. I can’t have anything serious. I don’t have time for that. I don’t live the kind of life that allows for that.”
“I don’t need anything else right now either,” he says.
“You’re just jaded right now. You need time to get over Greg. What he did to you.”