“Honey,” she said suddenly. “I met Christian this afternoon and invited him again.”
Alexander’s eyes snapped to her face. “What?”
Mila fidgeted, shifting from one foot to the other and giving him a wary look. “Well, I figured you wouldn’t mind. The experiment went well, right? And he’s a nice guy.”
Alexander had to make a conscious effort to unclench his jaw before he could speak.
“That wasn’t the deal,” he said. “I thought we agreed it would be a one-time thing.”
Mila flushed and looked at her feet. “Sorry.”
“Sorry? I was very clear. You shouldn’t have done that without asking me first.”
Mila’s eyes filled with tears, and Alexander gritted his teeth, annoyed with her. He hated tears and he hated scenes.
He sighed. “When is he going to come?”
The doorbell rang.
Mila gave him a sheepish smile. “Now?”
Great. Just fantastic.
Alexander leaned back against the pillow while Mila went to open the door. He glanced at himself—he was wearing only his boxers—and considered putting something on, but what was the point?
He folded his arms behind his head and stared at the doorway, his muscles tense and alert.
Finally, Mila backed into the room, her lips glued to Christian’s as she undressed him.
Something unpleasant coiled in the pit of Alexander’s stomach as he watched Mila push Christian’s shorts off his narrow hips, squeezing his firm, round ass.
Still kissing Mila, Christian opened his eyes, and looked at Alexander.
Alexander stared back at him.
Christian maneuvered her to the bed. Mila fell gracelessly onto the mattress, a little out of breath, and Christian stretched out on her other side. He leaned down and licked her trembling bottom lip, still looking at Alexander, as if saying, See how she’s trembling?
Alexander watched Christian’s pink tongue swipe across Mila’s lips and felt the ugly feeling in his stomach spread to his chest.
As Christian leaned down to kiss her again, Alexander moved swiftly and covered Mila’s lips with his.
Christian’s wet lips grazed his cheek. “You didn’t say hi,” he said, in a barely audible whisper, just for his ears. “You’re so rude.”
Alexander stopped kissing her and looked at Christian. The tip of Christian’s tongue poked out as he wet his lips. His face was just a few inches away.
“My turn.” Christian leaned down and kissed Mila again. Unwilling to be a third wheel, Alexander started kissing the side of her face. Closing his eyes, he sucked and nibbled, moving down her cheek, to her chin, to—
Alexander sucked on the plump lips and delved deep with his tongue. There was a moan and then—
Alexander opened his eyes and found himself kissing Christian.
He jerked away.
They stared at each other, breathing hard.
“Oh, I know it was an accident, but this was so hot!” Mila said. It felt as though her voice was coming from very far away. “Come on, guys, do it again! For me?”
“I don’t mind, sweetheart, but I think your boyfriend does,” Christian said with a sly grin. His eyes gleamed as he held Alexander’s gaze. “I think he’s scared.”
Christian’s lips were full and shiny. Alexander averted his gaze. “I’m not scared. I just don’t want it.” He wiped his lips with the back of his hand, pulled Mila close and kissed her.
He felt Christian lean close to his ear and whisper,
“Liar.”
The word jolted him and kept nagging at the back of his mind as he touched Mila to get her off. It was still on Alexander’s mind as he fucked her, carefully not watching Christian as she gave the guy a blowjob.
By the time Christian left and Mila was asleep, Alexander was still thinking about it. Liar.
Liar.
He got out of the bed, threw a blanket over his shoulders and went out onto the balcony. A cold November wind hit his bare skin, stinging his bare face and hands and sending chills up his spine.
Liar.
A memory, old but not forgotten.
Liar. His mother’s broken, hysterical voice. Then his father’s excuses and promises that it was the last time, that it would never happen again. His father had lied, of course. Every single time.
Alexander had been five the first time it happened. He woke up to the sounds of yelling and sobbing coming from their parents’ bedroom. Confused and scared, he crept out of bed, padded down the dark hallway and inched open the door as silently as possible.
“I’m sorry—I’m sorry,” Edward Sheldon kept saying. “It just happened! I don’t know why—I was drunk and didn’t know what I was doing—”
“You were sober enough to get it up and stick it in his ass!” his mother yelled, her lovely face red and voice hoarse from crying. “Faggot!” She threw a vase at his father and missed. It shattered against the wall, making Alexander flinch and stare at the broken pieces on the floor. “Faggot! Cocksucker!”
At the time, he hadn’t understood what the words meant, but as it happened again and again, and their fights got louder and uglier, and more things got broken, he had learned the meaning of the words.