“We’ve been looking for you,” Brendon says sternly, and there’s something about the way he says it that makes me feel like he doesn’t speak that way very often.
Preston’s jaw hardens and his fists clench. He looks like he’s trying to get some control over himself before he speaks.
Paul looks between Preston and Debbi before he asks, “Do you know her or something?”
“No, she’s just a woman who was nice to me. Are you heading back to campus?”
“Yeah, just grabbing some cinnamon rolls. Debbi’s are the best,” I pipe up, and the big man looks at me for the first time.
Debbi rings us up, and we head out of the small shop to the car. Paul and Brendon take the front seats again, and I climb into the back with Carmichael.
“I’m Nick.” I offer my hand and he shakes it with a very forced smile.
“Preston.”
I chuckle, “Oh, I know who you are.”
Paul and Brendon are having some kind of conversation in the front with just looks, so I start rambling while Carmichael looks out the window. No one is paying me any attention and that amuses me. I could be talking about starfish orgasms, and no one would know.
Paul pulls up in front of the dorms, and I climb out with a quick bye and head inside. I have a very important thing to do with Joey’s dick and this amazing cinnamon roll that’s still warm.
Chapter seven
Joey
Nick comes into his room where I’ve been hiding out for the last few days with a devious smile on his face. PausingThoron the TV, I watch him stalk toward me with purpose, holding a paper bag.
“Whatcha got there?”
The smile on his face becomes dangerous and seductive.
“How do you feel about food as masturbatory aids?” Nick asks with a lift of his eyebrow.
Now I’m confused.
“What?”
Nick opens the bag and lifts out a big cinnamon roll. “You see, I am falling hard for your dick, and I also love cinnamon rolls. So, putting them together should be next world.”
I flick my gaze between the pastry and his face.
“I’m definitely curious to see what you’re going to do with that.” I swallow thickly, a little nervous and a little turned on.
“Take your pants off,” he demands, and I quickly shove the sweats and underwear down my legs and drop them on the floor. His eyes zero in on my half-hard dick lying against my stomach. “Get it hard.”
Just giving me the command makes my dick twitch. I love when he takes charge. I don’t have to think, just feel.
Reaching for my cock, I stroke myself a few times until I’m hard, and he climbs onto the bed and kneels between my legs.
“You’re about to be a very messy boy,” he teases, shoving two fingers into the cinnamon roll and scooping out the center piece. It’s vulgar and indecent. His fingers are covered in frosting and the cinnamon-sugar mixture.
Lifting the soft, gooey bread to his mouth, he takes a bite and moans before leaning over me enough to offer me the rest of the piece.
I use my tongue to take the piece, chewing and swallowing quickly. When my mouth is empty, he shoves his fingers into my mouth.
“Suck them clean.”
A shiver shudders through me as I hold on to his wrist and clean his fingers with my tongue.
