to make sure he's not within earshot. "He has quite a reputation, Nash. When Ellis brings you back to his apartment, there's usually a good story to go along with it."
I swallow. Maybe I am a third wheel.
"I won't get in your way."
Before I can turn away feeling like an idiot, she puts a hand on my arm. "I wasn't talking about me, Nash."
"What are you talking about then?" I ask, feeling very fucking lost.
She only laughs into her drink. Just then, he comes back into the room. "Am I interrupting something?" he asks.
"Not at all," I stammer quickly.
Ellis is holding a joint in his fingers, and he gestures to the back of the house. "The rooftop patio is lovely. Let’s go up and have a smoke." Then he looks at me. As if he's specifically inviting me.
I’m getting a strange vibe, like something has changed. And instead of backing out or walking away, I follow him. I’ll unpack that later.
There's an outdoor sofa and two chairs under a canopy on the rooftop, and Ellis was right, it is nice up here. Britta sits first, and Ellis gestures for me to sit next to her. I want to tell him she doesn't want me. She wants him, but I don't argue, taking my spot next to her. Immediately after sitting down, she cozies up next to me. Ellis takes the chair across from us, leaning back to light his joint.
Once he starts passing it, I only take a couple small hits. I'm already paranoid as it is. What the fuck did Britta mean downstairs? It's like she knows what's up and I have no fucking clue. Is Ellis trying to hook her and me up? Is he into some kinky orgy shit and that's what she's talking about?
Then the final thought, the one that has the hairs standing on my arms and neck: is he into me?
The patio grows quiet, and Britta scoots even closer until she's practically on my lap. Why is she fucking with me when she could have him?
He's staring at us, eyes hooded and dangerous looking.
"I think he likes to watch," she whispers, but not so quietly he can't hear. My mind races, and I stare at him, feeling a little confused.
"I think she wants you to kiss her, Nash. Why don't you?"
I can't not obey him. For one, I don't want to disappoint him. And two, I do want to kiss her. I'm already sporting a hard-on that appeared shortly after we got to the apartment. Just the quiet intimacy of being in Ellis's house is sending thrilling jolts of excitement through my body.
So, I turn toward Britta, putting my hands on her jaw and pulling her toward me. I lock onto her lips more gently than I normally would and she purrs in response. We kiss for a few moments, her climbing even closer until one of her knees is resting between my legs. My hands travel down her neck, over her shoulders until they're resting on her waist. I almost forget Ellis is watching until I open my eyes and see him staring at me. Our eyes lock for a moment, and I get suddenly self-conscious, so I gently pull away from the kiss.
Her lips don't stop, traveling down my neck and up to my ear.
Ellis is still watching.
Is this weird? I briefly wonder. He's my dad's friend. He knew me as a kid. It doesn't feel weird, not to me. But I'm fucked up. What if I humiliate myself by showing how fucked up I really am?
"What's Nash like in bed, Britta?" he asks, and I stare at him.
She laughs against the cool, wet skin of my neck. "Well, we never made it to a bed, but he likes it rough."
I swallow down my nerves.
"Was he good? Tell me."
"He was good," she replies, looking at me now. "I think he was holding back though."
"Is that so?" He takes another puff on his joint, and I can't tear my eyes away. "I wonder if we can get him to let go."
"I'd like to give it a try," she hums against my lips.
"Help him relax a little first."
I watch as Britta sinks down to her knees between my legs. As she tugs my zipper down, I let out a small gasp when she pulls my cock out and wraps her lips around the head. With her eyes on me, she slicks up the length, running her tongue from the base to the top. Then,