Chapter 9

Mikey gave his dad a big grin. “Pizza’s

here.”

With a wave of dismissal, Mr. Pierce motioned

to the boxes. “Take them in the kitchen, will you? Gently,”

he chided, as Mikey struck a table with his foot in passing. “Damn

it, kid. Try not to tear the place apart.”

I hurried into the kitchen and clicked on the

overhead light. From the doorway that led to the dining room, I

could hear the clatter of poker chips, the shuffle of cards, and

the click of beer bottles on the heavy wooden table. “Pizza,” I

called, though I didn’t have to—the moment the smell of hot cheese

wafted past me, I heard the benches scrape back and half a dozen

burly men piled into the kitchen. They were rough, unruly, smelling

of grease and alcohol and for the moment I stood in their midst, I

felt like a young god. An image filled my head, myself naked in

that kitchen, spread-eagle on the floor, these manly men nude as

they crowded around me, each dark with hair like fur and thick

muscle laced with fat, calloused hands on my smooth skin, large

cocks filling my mouth, my ass. Mr. Pierce on his knees behind me,

my head in his lap, his dick alongside my cheek or pressed to my

lips, his strong hands holding my arms as each man knelt before me

and took his turn.

God. It was a scene of such debauchery

that I had to open the fridge and duck my head inside not so much

to look for something to drink but to cool off a bit. It didn’t

help when the men reached around me, nudging me out of the way to

grab more beers. I felt their hands on my hips, my arms, my waist,

and I wanted to fall into their touch.

Then I got a fist in the ribs and Mikey was

there, pushing me aside. Though he reached for two bottles of

water, he leaned down to whisper from the corner of his mouth,

“Grab some beers.”

“What?” I stood back and looked around—no one

would notice, I was sure, but I wasn’t about to get in trouble

doing something so stupid, not with a room full of adults. “No. You

do it.”

Mikey barreled his way between me and the

fridge. “Wimp. No one will notice.”

“They’ll see me.”

I started to say something else when a hard

hand clamped on my shoulder, spinning me around. I smiled up at a

guy not quite Mr. Pierce’s age, but definitely older than me. He

had dirty blond hair that curled in waves around his temple and

above the collar of his shirt, and he was more clean-shaven than

the other men in the room. Even Mr. Pierce had a dark shadow across

his jaw, but not this guy. He looked like the youngest of the group

and when he grinned at me, I saw a crooked eyetooth that marred an

otherwise gorgeous smile. “You Hank’s kid?”

Stuttering, I looked into icy blue eyes and

could no longer think straight. Who was Hank? “No, I’m—”

Suddenly Mr. Pierce was there, draping an arm

around my shoulders and pulling me down against his ample chest in

a rare display of affection. I almost didn’t feel the knuckle

rubbed against my scalp because every other synapse in my body

fired at once. I even came a little, right there, God help me. In

his arms, man. I was in his arms.“Nah, he ain’t

mine. This is Mikey’s friend, the one that’s going to college. He’s

smart like you, RC.”

I laughed as I tried to twist free, not

because I wanted to but because I knew it’d look funny if I didn’t.

RC faked a double punch at my stomach, the old one-two, and I

pushed his hands away as they glanced over my shirt. If I wasn’t so

hard for Mr. Pierce, I could fall for his friend in a minute.

“Which school?” RC asked, tousling my hair.

I felt like one of the guys and wanted to

ditch Mikey to hang out in the dining room with these men. I took a

step in that direction, following Mr. Pierce, and RC fell in beside

me. “Tech. I start next week. I’m studying—ow!”

Mikey’s elbow caught me in the back. I turned

and glared at him, but he just nodded toward the stairs and his

bedroom beyond. He had his arms crossed against his chest, holding

the water bottles in place, but from the look on his face, I knew

he’d snuck a few beers under his shirt, too. “Grab one of the

pizzas and come on.”

I was torn. In that instant, if anyone had

asked me to join them in the dining room, I would’ve left Mikey

without a second thought. I was tired of looking at cheap porn and

naked chicks—I wanted the company of men, warm hands clapped to my

arms and back, coarse laughter, rugged talk, the stench of sweat

and musk, smoke and booze. I wanted in on this grown-up’s world, to

be counted among the men, to be one of them. To be accepted by

them. To be loved.