The Lover (It's Just Us Here Book 4)

by Christopher X Sullivan

  “I said I didn’t need a party!”

  “Too bad. You do.” He kissed me. “And we’re going to work this kink out in a safe and productive way. You can live outside yourself for a few minutes and you’ll always be safe. I’ll take care of you.” He kissed me again.

  “Why did you say that?”

  “Say what?”

  “That I can live outside myself for a few minutes.”

  “Isn’t that what you want? You get more excited when we do role playing. Remember how we did it in the park that one day? You as a sexy jock.” Mark kissed me on the lips and his cock came to life. “You in your sexy, tight running clothes. That bro hat on backwards. Such a jock. A hot jock.”

  His voice was turning me on. I did get off on thinking I was a different person. That’s what I had to do anytime we had sex. I usually had to do that when jacking off, too. Sometimes I thought about nothing while masturbating, but other times I thought about becoming generic, stupid, horny people—usually this involved a transformation from a weak non-sexual person to a dumb fuck toy... sometimes changed through either hypnosis or magic.

  Mark’s hands were on my body.

  “See, you’re liking it already. I can feel my hot stud getting ready to show off that tight body. Such nice abs. Great arms.” His hands squeezed my arms. “Getting bigger,” he murmured while nibbling on my neck.

  “Stop...” I complained. “Melanie is in the other room. And you said we weren’t coming back here to do this.”

  “We weren’t. But plans change.” His face hovered over me and he winked. Then he stuck his nose in my armpit and snorted. I laughed because it was ticklish and because that was our escape valve. Ever since that first night when he released the tension that way, he had used the nose tickling to good effect.

  I turned so he could get at the other armpit. He knew that I needed to balance my body... if something happened on my left...

  He dove into my other armpit. I laughed again and petted his hair. I loved him unconditionally.

  We changed and joined Melanie at the couch. “You ever watch Game of Thrones?” Mark asked.

  “Nerds. Honestly, what’s happened to you?”

  Mark grinned like a hooligan. “That’s Chris’ favorite show.”

  “One of them. I also like Community, Cougartown, Scrubs, and Survivor.” Mark giggled when I said Survivor.

  “Chris loves strategy games and alliance building,” he snickered.

  “Okay...” said a bewildered Melanie. “So... I think I’m going to head out tonight.”

  “What? Why?” Mark looked away from me and his goofy face fell. “What’s going on?”

  “I can’t sleep in that room right now,” she said. “Thank you for changing the sheets, but I can’t walk in there without feeling claustrophobic.” She hugged her body.

  I wished I could’ve hugged her pain away.

  “Whoa, Mel. Are you okay? I thought you laughed it off. Remember how that dick ran away from us?”

  “Yeah. I don’t know what you did to him, but thank you, Chris. I love you so much for that.”

  “It was nothing,” I murmured. I thought she was going to cry, but she was too tough for that. She stared ahead at the wall of windows and blinked slowly. “I’m going to head back to Madison and sleep in my own bed.”

  “What? You aren’t heading to the Lakehouse?”

  “It’s the same distance. Actually, it will be faster to get to Grandpa’s from there than from here. And I can find clothes to better cover this shit.”

  “You can hardly see it. We bought you some nice stuff to wear.”

  “I can’t do it. I can’t sleep here. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s late,” I said. “Do you want to sleep in our bed? We’ll sleep in the guest room.”

  “No. I can’t sleep in here. I keep seeing him, leaning against the island like he did this morning. Leering. Oh God, what a creep.”

  “You don’t know the half of it,” I muttered.

  “Chris has never liked him. I guess I should have listened to you.”

  “I told you. I can read other people’s motivations just fine, but when it comes to them wanting something out of me... I get lost.” I leaned into my partner. “And I could tell what he wanted from you... he barely disguised it, especially from me.”

  “There’s my little genius.” We kissed.

  “Shit,” Mel said. “Can you not do that? You’re making me feel inferior.”

  “Normally he doesn’t like to kiss in front of people. Do you, babe?” Mark scrunched his hand in my ticklish area and I squirmed. “So this is a big step for us.”

  “It’s not the kissing,” Mel complained. “It’s the staring into each other’s eyes and shit.”

  “That’s just the way he is,” Mark said. It wasn’t an insult.

  “Why don’t you stay at my place?” I suggested.

  “No,” Mark said immediately. “That place is shit. She’s not interested.”

  “I’ve heard enough about it. I’d have to see it to make a judgement.” Mel was thoughtful.

  “It’s in the neighborhood we drove through to get to dinner. What more do you need to know?” Mark asked derisively.

  “It’s not a high rise with a view of the city and the Lake, but I trust the guys and it’s a safe space.”

  “Except her tires will be gone in the morning.”

  “Let’s drop her off then, if you’re so worried. Her car will be parked in your garage.”

  “I can’t take the two of you,” she said, stopping our banter. “I feel like I’m a huge third wheel. Take me to your place. I’m tired and I don’t want to drive back to college.”

  “Mel... Sis... You won’t like it. Let’s get you a room downstairs. Or you can go up with Devon and Shane.”

  “On a Friday?” She walked into the bathroom to pack her toiletries bag. “I want to see the house. I don’t want to go out clubbing tonight and I want to do something different for a change.”

  “We can watch TV,” Mark begged.

  “I don’t want to cramp your style. Who the hell knows what freaky shit you two get up to. Probably spend hours staring into his eyes.” She snorted.

  Actually... she wasn’t that far off—we had spent hours staring at each other. Especially on Saturday mornings when I crawled in bed to wake him up.

  We piled into Mark’s car and drove into the ‘poor, ghetto’ neighborhood (which was laughable for Mark to say because it wasn’t true at all). I pointed out my car when we parked next to it and Melanie complimented me on it. Then she cackled.

  We walked up the stairs to unit 304. The lights were off, which was unusual.

  “Suhail isn’t here?” I asked aloud to the empty room. “Suhail is always here.”

  Melanie didn’t have anything to say about the living conditions. She was in college and had seen worse. I showed her my closet/bedroom and her eyes knitted together.

  “Tiny,” she said.

  “Small room for a small man,” Mark said. I ignored him. Melanie explored.

  “So this is the famous framed uniform,” she said, standing before my birthday present from Mark. I had a small shelf beneath it with my signed home run ball and the tennis ball Mark got for me that was signed by Gael Monfils and Venus Williams. “I like all these posters,” she commented. “Very geometric.”

  “I made them. Most of them were done in college. I had a few months in college where I was really into fractals. And I’ve always loved taking pictures of ugly things—like ugly fruit and trees—so those are some of my best shots.”

  “Chris likes his geometry. You should see him when he gets to building things. You remember what we did at the beach, right?”

  “The castle?”

  “Fuck, it was the best sand castle I’ve ever seen in my life—at least one that wasn’t done with special equipment and proper sand. He just sat by the shore and went to town.”

  “We all helped. It was me and Caleb that started it... and t
hen you and Gabby and Keegan joined in.” I was always honest in crediting my co-creators.

  Mark ruffled my hair affectionately.

  “I can stay here,” Mel decided.

  “You sure?” Mark asked warily. “If you give up, just call me and I’ll come get you. Why don’t we just get you a hotel room?”

  “This is fine. I can handle the nerds.”

  Mark is not worried about the nerds. He’s worried about you.

  I looked at my bed and got anxious. It had my sheets on it... and my blankets. I fidgeted as I watched her sit on my bed and sink into the covers. I flinched.

  “Hey Suhail,” I yelled.

  Mark shushed me.

  “He’s always here,” I whispered back. I walked across the living room to his door and knocked. “Suhail!” He wasn’t there.

  I pressed my lips together and figured I would just have to bite the bullet. My sheets—and probably those blankets—were going to be a spare set from now on. Then I would get new ones... again.

  Suhail’s door opened. He wore a grubby graphic tee and a headset attached to his ears. “Sup?” he asked.

  “Hey, dude,” I said nervously. “This is going to sound weird. You have a spare pair of sheets, don’t you?”

  He nodded.

  “Could I use them?”

  “What for?”

  “Melanie is sleeping in my bed tonight, and I don’t...” I sighed. “Mark would say I have a thing about people sleeping on my stuff... and I don’t! But I kind of do, and it would just be so much better if I could use your spares. I’ll wash it and get it back to you. Please?” I was breathless by the time I finished my desperate request.

  Suhail nodded. He went back to his online console game after pointing to the shelf with the sheets—next to his towels.

  “Hey Nerd,” Melanie said. Suhail and I both looked at her leaning in the door and still wearing my button down shirt. “This is what you do on a Friday night?”

  Suhail navigated in his game and tried to banter with the girl at his door.

  “I hear you need to use my sheets,” Suhail commented.

  “Chris has a problem!” Mark shouted from behind Melanie.

  “Do not!” I picked up the blankets on the shelf next to his sheets—he had a huge closet. “Suhail, could we use these blankets, too?” He waved at me, which I assumed was an affirmation.

  “Sorry guys,” Suhail said. “I’ve got company over...” He focused on his game for thirty seconds. “Okay,” he said into his headset. “Yeah, yeah.”

  We left Suhail in his bedroom with his hair tangled in his headset and his eyes glazed over while staring at the screen. I shut the door.

  “What a fucking dweeb,” Melanie said with a snort.

  I led the parade back to my tiny room and changed the sheets and made her bed. “There you go,” I said pleasantly.

  “Dork. Honestly, Nick is the only cool one out of the three of you.”

  “I don’t get that,” Suhail said from my door. “Everyone seems to think that about Nick. It was like that in college, too.”

  “You went to college? You look like you’re in high school.”

  “Burn,” Suhail said, not letting Mel run him over this time. “I assume she can entertain herself for the night. Will I be providing breakfast for the lady, or what?”

  “Or what,” Melanie stated.

  Mark was ready to cut and run. He later told me that there was too much sexual tension in the room, which I thought was strange because of Melanie’s experience that morning—and the fact that she kept insulting Suhail. I had been tempted to defend my friend from her rough behaviour.

  “You sure you’re going to be okay here?” Mark asked his sister.

  “Sure. It’ll be nice to get some peace and quiet. The nerd is going to sit in front of his TV all night. So I’ll be able to curl up with a good Netflix drama. What’s your WiFi?”

  I let Suhail answer that one, seeing as he had set it up. “Lowercase ‘taylorswiftizgood’ and that’s ‘iz’ with a zee.” He caught Melanie off guard and she coughed, unable to formulate a comeback. “And the password is ‘1322’.”

  “Apparently Taylor Swift’s favorite number is thirteen,” I said derisively.

  “Everyone knows that,” Mel agreed.

  “And my favorite song is ‘22’,” Suhail added.

  “Let me guess, you’re twenty-two.”

  “Almost twenty-four.”

  Mark grabbed me. “See you tomorrow morning, guys. We’ll take Mel out to breakfast.” Mark led me to the door.

  “Yeah, play nice,” I said. “And don’t go looking through my stuff. This room is just for sleeping... nothing else.” I honestly wasn’t thinking of the two of them potentially having sex in my bed—but the three others in that room suddenly were.

  At Suhail’s bachelor party—the day before he married Melanie Wolff—he told the story (with a guilty grin) about the first night he met his future wife and how they rooted through my room like it was an adventure and spent the night making fun of me. That revelation might have upset anyone else because most people don’t like being the butt of a joke, but I was more upset about the fact that they touched all my stuff. Apparently they ‘acted like spies’ and knew they had to ‘put everything back exactly as it was’ without ‘one corner out of line’. I’m not that bad... I don’t understand why everyone thinks I’m so anal about everything... it’s only some things that need to be straight and organized. (Mark wants you to know that it is actually ‘everything’.)

  Honestly, if I got upset about every little negative thing that someone said about me, I’d be fucking exhausted all the time. And I have an autoimmune disorder... I don’t have time for that shit. I learned to let those comments fall out of my brain way back in middle school. It was just a form of small talk—and small talk, as we all know, is a waste of time.

  MARK AND I returned to our apartment and settled in for the night. I locked the door and lowered the blinds. Then I made sure that the aftermath of Hurricane Melanie was cleaned up.

  “Are you worried about what we just did?” Mark asked.

  “What do you mean? The guys are fine. They aren’t like Greg. They’ll respect her.”

  “I’m not worried about her. Shit, she’s going to eat them alive. Poor Suhail.”

  “Suhail will be fine. He can handle himself.”

  “He’s never met someone like my sister.”

  “He’s met you.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  I stared at him, slack-jawed. “Who does she remind you of?”

  “You think she—” He took in a breath. “She looks like me, but she is not like me at all.”

  “The ‘you’ before you met me was pretty similar to the woman I just met.”

  “Not true,” he denied. “Not true at all.”

  We got ready for bed. Mark took forever in the bathroom as I laid on the bed. I had a book with me, so I wasn’t lonely. But still... how long can you stare at yourself in a mirror? Probably shouldn’t ask that about Mark.

  “Mark,” I called, not getting off the bed. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m waiting for you.” His voice was muffled through the door.

  “We already showered.”

  “Go look in the kitchen, please.”

  I sighed, set aside my book and walked out to the kitchen. I kept my ears peeled for the sound of him moving to the bedroom and wondered if he had a surprise for me. That would be like him... but too bad. We had our sex for the week last night.

  I noticed the laptop sitting on the kitchen counter—very conspicuously. I woke it up.

  The browser showed the Craigslist site for relationships in the Chicago area. m4f, f4m, m4m, m4mm...

  I clicked on the ‘platonic’ section, since that was what we looked at earlier. There was a suspicious looking new listing...

  Looking for a Unicorn: Looking for one beautiful boy to cuddle with, located in the Andersonville neighborhood
. Must have a fucking hawt body. Must be cute, but manly. Must be a willing bottom. Must be willing to call me Daddy. I’m 6’2, handsome, successful, looking for a platonic friend. Meet me in the bathroom.

  I was hard. Just the idea was enough for me... I didn’t need to live it out. The fact that he was in the bathroom... waiting... waiting to play and to be someone different.

  That was enough for me. I didn’t need to go through with it to satisfy my curiosity.

  “I found your ad,” I called down the hall. No response. “Babe... I found your ad. That’s very funny. Let’s go to bed.” Mark... Please. Let’s just go to bed.

  I walked in the bedroom and sat on the bed, waiting nervously. He didn’t join me or talk to me through the door. “Mark. This isn’t funny. Please come out of the bathroom.” I stared at the door. Then I got up and peeked at the other bathroom door in the hallway. Both were shut.

  I turned the handle. My heart raced. My eyes jumped back and forth. My cock was hard.

  What was it going to be? What fantasy did Mark want to live out?

  “Mark...” The lights were on. He was standing in the middle of the room. “Babe. Let’s go to—”

  “Get in here, boy,” he said sharply.

  “I don’t like this.”

  “I wanted a good boy. Hawt as fuck. Willing bottom. A screamer.” He stomped two steps and grabbed my shirt. “Good boys come to Daddy naked and ready.”

  “Unnn,” I said as he stripped me of my shorts. He spanked me.

  “You need to learn your lesson. Naked and ready.”

  “Mark...”

  “Daddy.” He roughly moved me so that I was half over the sink and in an even more vulnerable position. He ran his fingers through my hair, which was uncomfortably close to what I had done to Greg that morning. “Call me ‘Daddy’,” he said gruffly.

  I started shivering. “Mark...”

  “Hey,” he hugged me and started kissing me. “You’re breaking character,” he said. “You’ve got to give in and let it out. Don’t get so worked up.”

  I turned around and hugged him. He was such a good cuddler. “Let’s just go to bed,” I pleaded.

  “Don’t you want to act out some of it? You know what it’s going to be. Just close your eyes and imagine yourself as my willing, obedient houseboy.”