Undisclosed Desires — Mikky - (Part III)
“You’re deliciously tempting,” he whispered, his teeth sinking into my neck. My fingers dug into his back as he devoured my skin, the sensation a mixture of pleasure and pain.
“Dirty, dirty whores, all of you,” I mumbled, my eyes scanning the pages of Big Rods, eagerly absorbing the sculpted bodies and tantalizing poses of the hottest Latinos in porn.
The door suddenly slammed shut, forcing my attention upwards from the glossy pages.
Catch up
“Jason, that you?” I called out, my voice a mix of curiosity and annoyance. “Jason?” I tried again, but before I could react, the bathroom door swung open, revealing a flushed and agitated Jason.
“Ocupado!” I blurted out. “I’m kinda busy, bro.”
Jason’s breath was heavy, his frustration palpable. “Why didn’t you pick up the fucking phone?”
I sighed, lowering the magazine a fraction. “I was in the middle of something. Can’t it wait?” I muttered, half-irritated, half-amused. “Get out of here already.”
“There’s a problem,” Jason stated urgently, his eyes scanning the room as if seeking an escape route.
I let out an exasperated sigh, reluctantly tearing my gaze away from the magazine. “There’s always something, isn’t there?” I grumbled, my curiosity piqued despite my annoyance. “Fine, lay it on me.”
Jason shuffled, his agitation palpable. “I hooked up with a guy.”
“Yeah, and? So did I,” I said with a nonchalant wave of my hand. “It was wild. I’ve got the marks to prove it.”
Jason’s eyes widened with disbelief. “He knows who I am.”
That got my attention. I let the magazine slip from my fingers, my focus solely on Jason. “Wait, what? How do you know?”
“He told me, Mikky. He actually fucking said it,” Jason muttered, his pacing growing frantic.
“Okay, before we go any further, I need to finish up,” I said, my tone a mix of annoyance and humor, “cause I’m feeling a little self-conscious.”
Jason rolled his eyes impatiently. “Hurry the fuck up.” The door slammed behind him.
I finished my business on the porcelain throne and padded into the room.
Jason’s demeanor shifted from anxious to hesitant. “Now, what’s the problem?” I asked, flinging myself onto the bed.
Jason’s spine straightened as he took a deep breath. His words came out just above a whisper. “He said, ‘I know who you are.’” He ran his fingers through his dreadlocks before motioning toward the window. The tension in the room thickened.
Jason was being groomed for a political career, with aspirations to become the Governor of Texas like his father. His influential family was deeply connected, but they couldn’t afford any scandals. And if word got out that he was fucking, sucking, fingering, blowing random men, it could shatter his carefully crafted image.
I attempted to soothe him. “Dude was probably just bullshitting you.”
“I think you’re wrong about this. I really do.” Jason’s nerves were on full display.
I got up and moved closer to him. “Listen, you met this guy in a club, right? He was probably buzzed or a straight guy trying to fuck with your head after y’all fucked.”
“We didn’t fuck,” Jason interjected, his words a mix of vulnerability and frustration. “I gave him a blowjob.”
“There’s no proof you did. It’s his word against yours. Besides, he’s a straight guy, right? Why would he out you? He’d be outing himself.” I offered a supportive smile, trying to ease his worries.
Yeah, you’re right. I’m just overreacting.”
“Jason, I love you, but you can be a bit of a drama queen sometimes,” I chuckled, leading him to the bed. “Go to sleep. We’re heading to Spin tonight.”
As he sat down, his head in his hands, I settled next to him. “Is your brother hooking us up with VIP?” he asked, his voice a mix of curiosity and excitement.
“Of course,” I replied, my eyes growing heavy. “Now, close your eyes and let’s get some rest.”
The thought of my stepbrother, Drake, floated into my mind. It had been three long years since we’d seen each other. We tried to keep in touch, but his fast-paced life kept us apart.
I shared a lot with Jason, but my unresolved feelings for Drake were something I kept to myself. He was the reason I came to New Orleans — the one that got away, the prey I couldn’t let slip through my fingers… again.
Groggily, I fumbled to snooze the alarm on my phone’s nightstand. The symphony of snores from the other side of the room, though, was enough to keep me from slipping back into sleep.
5 PM blinked on the nightstand clock in a taunting blue. We had slept through the daylight festivities of Nawleans, but that wasn’t our concern.
We were in this city for the nightlife — when the night came alive. Rubbing sleep from my eyes, I swung my feet to the floor and shuffled toward the bathroom, feeling the weariness in my muscles as I embarked on the “Triple S” ritual: Shower, Shit, and Shave.
“Finally decided to join the world of the living?” I quipped, as I emerged from the bathroom. Jason sat on the bed, holding a note. “The bathroom’s all yours, bubba.” I plopped down beside him, stretching lazily.
“Got something here,” Jason mused.
“Make an appointment at the campus clinic. Is it herpes?” I quipped.
“No, it’s — “ Jason began.
“The clap, then?” I continued teasingly.
“No, you fucker. It’s a note.”
“Ah, the new STD, huh?” I teased, an amused grin spreading across my face.
Rolling his eyes, he passed the note to me. “Just read it.”
“Why did you run off? Call me or text,” the note read.
“Think I should call?” Jason’s fingers twisted his dreadlocks as he hesitated.
“Dude, why not? Find out what’s the deal. And if he’s playing games, we’ve got Drake to set him straight,” I suggested, my voice a mix of nonchalance and encouragement.
Jason’s pacing transformed into an hour-long dramatic performance. It was starting to wear thin on my patience. I decided to hit the gym for a quick workout before our night out.
Shedding my workout gear as I reentered the room. “So, what’s up? You call him?” I inquired,
“Nah,” Jason confessed, his expression a blend of uncertainty and apprehension.
“You know, you’ve got a PhD in pussyfooting,” I said, shaking my head in mock disapproval. “Give me the damn number.” I took his phone and dialed, my fingers dancing across the screen.
“Hello?” a voice on the other end answered.
“Hey, is this Cowboy?”
“Who?”
“The one who left a note under a hotel door?”
“Yeah, but — “
“Listen up, Cowboy. I’m the friend. You know, the dude with the dreads who swallowed your cock last night,” I stated with a sly grin, my gaze locked on Jason.
The cowboy hesitated, clearing his throat. “Look, can I talk to him? It’s kind of personal.”
“I’m speaking for him. So, right now, I’m Ja — him,” I confidently relayed, my tone light but assertive.
“We want to know… are you playing some kind of game here? ’Cause ain’t nobody got time for that.”
“No, nothing like that. I recognized him from his videos, that’s all.”
Videos? What videos?” I shot Jason a puzzled look as he reached for the phone. I playfully dodged him and continued the convo. I tapped the speakerphone button so Jason could hear.
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