Chasing Rusty Parker – Ch. 19
By Laura S. Fox
Copyright © 2023 Laura S. Fox
All Rights Reserved
Gay Erotica
Intended for Mature Audiences Only
This story will contain graphic depictions of sexual intercourse, strong
language and it is not meant for readers who are less than 18 years of age.
Consider making a donation to Nifty by clicking the little blue button
on the front page, as they help us all enjoy so many great stories, while
aiding authors like me to display their work.
~
Chasing Rusty Parker is the sequel to my story Good Guys Don't Date Bad
Boys that you can also find here, on Nifty.
~
Chapter Nineteen – Pride,
Prejudice And Other Demons
"So, are you going to
tell me how it went?" Maddox eyed him carefully from time to time, as he still
needed to keep his eyes on the road, which was a blessing in disguise.
Rusty placed the card carefully
on the dashboard and leaned back. Even the interior of the car was luxurious
and it made him low-key envious that he didn't have a boyfriend like Jonathan.
Not because he was loaded, but because it was more than a nice gesture to
receive a thoughtful gift like this. He had overheard Jonathan explaining to
Kane how he had done some serious research on what a young man in finance
should drive.
People never thought that
much about him. Sure, Maddox was his bestie, and Jonathan showed his good
intentions all the time, but Rusty believed that when dealing with most people
it was better if their interest remained superficial. Anyone trying to get to know
him better than his persona – carefully crafted, if anyone was asking – made
him feel like he needed to draw the bridge and let them swim around in the moat
until they got bored. They should be thankful that he hadn't thought of adding
sharks as entertainment.
"She praised me and put
me down at the same time," he explained in a low voice, as he looked out the
car window, at the passing scenery. Too bad, he wouldn't be seeing the same
places again.
"Okay, I can see why
someone would do that to you. No offense," Maddox added, when Rusty looked at
him with reproachful eyes. "Come on, man, you know what I mean. But let's hear it.
Don't keep it bottled up inside. You know you never deal well with bottling up
and the like."
Rusty sighed and closed
his eyes. "She gave me some tests, asked me to sing different songs, just to
gauge my range and stuff like that. And she thinks I have a wonderful voice, I
kid you not, and that I can go from tenor to baritone with proper work and
interest, because I'm that versatile."
"Tell me you didn't burst
out laughing at that word."
"Is that how well you
know me?" Rusty opened one eye to give Maddie his signature
angry-pirate-who-lost-an-eye-fighting-a-whale look.
"Yes," Maddox replied,
completely unfazed.
"I, like, chuckled. For a
second, no more."
"Did she give you the
evil eye for playing the fool?"
"No. She smiled. And that
was worse, in a way."
"How come?"
Too bad the drive back to
the campus took exactly as long as when they'd driven to see Mrs. May. "Well,
you do know me," Rusty admitted. "So, when people are mean to me, I know how to
handle them. I take all that meanness and wrap it around their necks like a
scarf."
"How nice of you."
"Nope. It's like I wrap
them in their mean scarves when it's more than one hundred degrees or so outside."
"Okay, so she wasn't
mean. What was she? What did she tell you?"
"She started explaining
how to control my breathing and stuff like that. Technical stuff, and she
guided me through it."
"It sounds to me like you
aced it. I know that if you put your mind to anything, you'll do it and surpass
it."
Rusty took another deep
breath. "Not this time. I swear, Maddie, Mrs. May must have spoken to your
beloved Johnny because she told me something he also mentioned."
"What's that?"
"Tension," Rusty muttered
under his breath and looked out the car window again, feeling sullen all of a
sudden.
"What do you mean,
tension? Those guys singing opera always look so stiff that I can only imagine
what a feat it must be to get through it all. And they also manage to make all
those faces at the same time. It must be hard."
"Well, yeah, but making
all those faces is not hard for me. Letting go of the tension is. I don't even
know what she's talking about. Or Jonathan. She said something to me like,
`Rusty, you must sing with joy, not all this fierceness' and, trust me, I
can't."
Maddox remained silent
for some time. "Maybe," he said cautiously, as if he was choosing each word
carefully, "you could let go a little and, you know, show yourself. How you
really are."
"Don't side with the
enemy, Maddie," Rusty warned. "That tension, or whatever she says it is, is--"
He stopped. Not even with Maddox could he be that honest. That tension was
keeping him glued together. That wasn't something anyone else but he himself
could understand. And not even he thought that he understood it all. He just
depended on it, and it made him low-key annoyed when people saw it. First,
Jonathan, and then, Mrs. Day. Was he starting to crack and unravel in places or
something? No one was supposed to see it.
"Take the card back."
They were at a stop, so Maddox reached for the thing and slapped it on Rusty's
chest. "You're not getting out of this. You're going to see Mrs. May again."
"I don't think so," Rusty
said stubbornly. He took the card from Maddox and ripped it in two.
Maddox gave him a
startled look. Then, he wrenched the two halves from his hand and pushed them
into his pocket. "I think I'll keep this for you. Until you stop acting like a
mule."
"Good luck with that."
Rusty snorted and turned his back to Maddox.
At least, his bestie knew
when to shut up. Yeah, he was pissed. She had seen right through him and
advised him to come back when he realized what was more important than keeping up
an act that wasn't him. Francine must have talked to her, warned her somehow.
And that made him a bit
angry. Even though he knew both of them were right.
***
Matty and Zoey snuck
through the rows of attendees in search of some empty seats, and it looked like
their only choice was to sit in the front, barely one foot or so away from the
speaker. At first, Matty didn't even recognize Connor
Williams. The guy must have gone to one of those TV shows, specializing in
makeovers, because he didn't look one ounce like he used to. Gone were the
billowy flowery shirts and the hippie hair, the colorful bracelets, even the
fake benevolent gaze he had used to bestow upon lesser mortals.
For starters, he wore a
suit and held his body in a rigid posture, his hands resting on his claimed
pulpit while only his eyes moved, inspecting the crowd that still had a hard
time settling down, like seals on an iceberg. His hair was cut short and
fashioned ŕ la military reject, and the pretended well-meant look had been
replaced by a harsh glint speaking of a lack of forgiveness.
"That's quite the
transformation," Matty whispered to Zoey.
"I told you. He's gone
one-eighty. Actually, I think he's spinning off of his axis. But let's hear him
first."
Matty couldn't agree
more. Something astonishing was in the works, and they basically had front row seats
to it. To say that he was curious would be a major understatement.
Finally, it looked like
the easily inconvenienced seals had found their places and after Connor coughed
loudly a couple of times to get the attention of the interested attendees, a
silence fell over the room.
"Fellow students," Connor
began and consulted the papers in front of him briefly with an important frown,
"I am glad to see you here in such large numbers. That gives me hope for the
future of Sunny Hill." A pause for effect followed, as another look at the
papers that had to contain the secret to eternal life by how carefully he thumbed
them from time to time. "Did you know that we are the 348th college
in the country? 348," he pronounced slowly. "That's our place."
"I bet you five bucks he
pulled that number out of his ass," Zoey whispered.
"No point in betting. I
agree," Matty whispered back.
Their muttering didn't go
unnoticed. Connor's steely gaze rested on them for a brief moment, and his lips
pursed in disappointment. Matty wasn't sure whether it was because of the nerve
of them to talk in class or Zoey's bright pink jacket deemed so insufferable.
"Do you know that we used
to be a lot higher?"
"How much higher?" Zoey
asked loudly.
Matty tried to shush her,
but it was too late.
Connor stared with fresh
disdain at Zoey. "We used to be the 127th." Annoyed with the
interruption, he thumbed his papers again. "What does that tell you, students
of Sunny Hill? Are we failing the first test of our lives as adults?"
A few murmurs confirmed
the frightening perspective laid out so carefully in front of them. Matty stole
a few looks around. He hadn't expected so many people to come and listen to
Connor. However, compared to the total number of students living on campus, it
wasn't an important percentage. Still, the way the people there stared at
Connor like he was about to announce the Second Coming or to tell them that he
was himself, that gave him the willies a bit.
"Our education is going
downhill," Connor continued and smacked his closed fist on the lectern, making
the poor wooden structure tremble in fear of domestic violence for a bit. "We
treat college like it's a four-year summer camp, from which we emerge not one
bit wiser than when we entered, with fresh innocent faces, waiting to be
enlightened." At the last word, he raised one hand to the ceiling, and all the
pairs of eyes in attendance followed his gesture, expecting some kind of
miracle or punishment to fall upon them next.
"I don't remember that
part," Zoey muttered under her breath. "I'm afraid I've never been an innocent
face."
"I can vouch for that,"
Matty agreed, while his eyes remained on Connor. He had to give it to the guy.
Something of how he moved and talked was on par with the behavior and slimy
magnetism of a snake oil salesman. And the ignorant crowd waited, brains wide
open for a little washing.
"Have we found that
enlightenment?" Connor continued. After each question, he took his time to
examine the faces of those in attendance, as if he expected answers.
Zoey made a gesture to
raise her hand, but Matty caught her. "Let's play the invisible spectators'
part for now," he advised. His bestie put her hand down, but not without a pout
to let him know that she was disappointed.
"What we have found is
how to live a life without meaning," Connor offered the answer in their stead.
"A life spent partying, drinking, experimenting with illegal substances. A life
wasted by investing our time in meaningless sexual encounters."
"Here we go," Zoey murmured,
her hands stuffed into the pockets of her jacket, which made her look like a
pink balloon.
A few more murmurs of
approval emerged from the audience.
"This isn't what I want
to take with me when I leave college," Connor enunciated with self-importance.
He leaned on the lectern with one elbow and gave another sweeping gaze to the
crowd in front of him. "I want to leave this place happy with myself, and with
my fellow students."
"What should we do?"
someone suddenly wailed from a middle row.
Matty tried to see who
the speaker was, but he had turned too late.
"Don't tell me," Zoey
muttered again. "Here comes the PowerPoint presentation."
"There's no way--" Matty
started.
The whiteboard behind
Connor lit up. Matty craned his neck and saw someone behind the projector, a
short girl with hair like a nest. She operated the machine like a little witch
bent over her potion cauldron. It looked like the speaker for the masses had
help.
Displayed in front of
them was an aerial view of the campus. Connor turned toward it and gave the
sight a look of proper respect and admiration. "This place of learning," he
boomed, "deserves all of our attention, understanding, and love."
A few people in the
audience began clapping, but the sounds died down, as Connor put one hand up in
modesty, as if he wasn't worthy of any such display of appreciation just yet.
"We won't hide our love
for learning," he continued in a sweeter tone. Then, he raised his voice again.
"We won't hide in the shadows, huddled together under the umbrella of some
secret society like our ancestors."
"What ancestors?" Zoey
wondered quietly. "This college is like twenty years old or something."
Matty patted her knee in
sympathy.
"No, we don't have to
hide," Connor continued and waved his right arm with aplomb, seeking allies
with his eyes everywhere in the room. Finally, someone seemed to take the cue
and jumped to their feet. "Yeah!"
A few others followed,
and it looked like that spark was enough. Matty looked around, feeling
second-hand embarrassment at the display of sudden emotion at Connor's speech.
"We will dedicate
ourselves to the high ideals of learning. We will aim higher! We will be
better! We will be the best!"
The agitation in the room
increased gradually, like an undercurrent turning into a wave.
"We will be a force for
good," Connor continued. He made a short gesture meant for the witch with the
projector. "We will be," he raised his voice again while the image changed behind
him, "the Sunny Hill Implacable Team!"
More people jumped to
their feet to applaud. Matty and Zoey exchanged a nonplussed look.
"Is he for real?" Matty
asked with a frown.
Zoey just let her jaw
drop, shook her head, and then put her jaw back on with one hand.
Connor gestured for the
audience to calm down, with a smarmy smile. He looked pleased. "Behold our
crest," he said, pointing at the projected image again.
The shield design showed
an open manuscript and above it some sort of bird, a cross between a raven and
a vulture, was perched, its claws digging deep into the pages. The initials
were separated, S and H on top, and the other two below.
"Second Hand Information
Technology," Zoey whispered at him. "So Happy It's Tuesday. Sorry Hoe It's
Tea--"
"Yeah," Matty barely
managed.
Connor interrupted their
little conversation, booming again from his pulpit, this time with more
excitement and his hands grabbing the edges whether for balance or to keep
himself from soaring toward the ceiling.
"We won't hide, no! But
we will do even more! We will help our fellow students, who have been left prey
to all these--"
"Is he going to call them
vices? Temptations?" Zoey wondered in a subdued voice.
"—temptations," Connor
continued.
"Bingo," Zoey congratulated
herself.
"—with no one to pick up
their cause and turn it into a credo, and we will show them that there is more
to college life than mindless drinking and partying and hooking up!" Connor
shouted, his eyes burning in his head.
"There's more, more,"
someone chanted from the agitated audience.
Matty shook his head.
Some people. How could they not see how false Connor was? And how come that
awful acronym didn't stop them from shouting like zealots?
Connor made another
gesture to make the crowd calm down. Apparently, he had more to say. "Sunny
Hill has become a place where students end up valuing excess in the deplorable
activities I mentioned before, and those who excel in them."
"Here it comes," Zoey
said. "Matty, pay attention."
He was all ears.
"Someone like Rusty
Parker," Connor thundered, "who's one step from flunking all his exams, an
unreliable team player on the basketball court, who indulges in partying as a
way of life, is called a king!"
The audience fell
completely silent.
Connor seemed to sense
that his dominance over the captive audience was slipping. He shouted louder.
"A king! How can that even be a thing? We don't celebrate worthless aristocracy
in this country! We make ourselves with our two hands! In a way, yes, Rusty
Parker can be called a king. He's as profligate as one! A reprobate!"
"Oh, my, what big words,"
Zoey whispered and leaned toward Matty.
"We shouldn't go through
college subjected to a constant popularity contest," Connor continued, his eyes
shifting across the audience.
"Yeah!" someone
confirmed.
Matty was starting to
think that each time, the supporter was the same person.
"Rusty Parker is no
better than you and I," Connor said. "I'd even dare to say that he's below most
of us. We're better than him. We want more from us, not partying our lives
away!" He made another sweeping arc with his right arm.
"No shit," Zoey said with
a shake of the head.
"You can do something to
make this false reign disappear," Connor continued.
"What can we even do?"
someone cried out, as if Rusty was some kind of despot, keeping them in chains.
"It's simple," Connor
said with a magnanimous smile. "From today onward, we will ignore Rusty Parker.
He no longer exists." Another expansive sweep of the arm. "He has no power over
us. And we will teach others what to do about it, too. They should ignore him.
They should stop looking up to someone as undeserving as him. We're better!
We're the best Sunny Hill can offer!"
Clapping followed. Matty
shook his head in disbelief. He grabbed Zoey's arm to drag her away. "I've had
enough. You?"
"Totally," Zoey agreed.
"We should totally tell Rusty about this."
Matty exchanged a short
look with Connor on his way out. It was strange to think that the man at the pulpit
would deign to spare a stare at a simple member of the audience, but maybe he
could still blame it on Zoey's pink jacket.
During that brief moment,
Connor's mask slipped, and Matty saw the ugliness below, the calculated
strategy, the ambition and the greed. He wasn't the first to look away. Connor
displayed an affable smile as he took in his loving audience.
***
"What have the two of you
been up to?" Kane questioned them the moment they stepped through the door.
Rusty rushed toward the
stairs. "Maddie, you better not say a word, or I'll be mad at you until
Christmas!"
"Now that makes me
curious," Kane said and crossed his arms, while looking at Rusty as he passed
by him at full speed. "It's clearly not enough to stop Rusty from wanting
Christmas presents."
"He'll talk when he's
ready," Maddox said with a weary sigh.
Seriously, these days he
was turning kind of annoying. It had to be Jonathan's influence, Rusty thought
and pursed his lips. "I'm not home for anyone until I say otherwise," he
announced. "So you, nosy housemates, better keep your nose out of it and let me
be. Not one of you come knocking, or I'll wrestle you to the floor until you
cry for your mommy."
"Jonathan's cooking
tonight," Maddox announced. "Are you sure you're strong enough to resist?"
"I said, I'm not home for
anyone," Rusty added petulantly.
A sudden energetic knock
on the door made them all turn toward it. Maddox went to get it. A pretty
disheveled Matty was there, breathing hard as if he had been running. "Is Rusty
home? I need to tell him something, and I don't want to do it over the phone."
"He's not--" Maddox
started.
Rusty groaned. "I'm right
here, and he can probably see my shoes or something. Come on in, Matty."
Matty looked confusedly
at Maddox and Kane as he entered. Maddox offered him an apologetic shrug. Kane
just rolled his eyes and threw his arms out like he couldn't be bothered
anymore.
That was exactly what he
needed. A distraction. And Matty was the best kind of distraction because he
reminded Rusty why he had felt like a million dollars that morning and brave
enough to call Mrs. May, regardless of the disappointment experienced after. You can't be truly great if you don't let go
of what's holding you back. Those had been her exact words. Maybe I don't want to be truly great.
That had been what he had said to her. Maybe
I should wait for you for another half a year. Now that had been a great
suggestion on her part. Go back, think if that is what you want, all that jazz.
No, he couldn't do that.
But he could chase that formidable sensation experienced the night before in
Matty's arms. Yes, that he could do. Chase after the pleasure and the happiness
that came with it.
***
Matty had noticed the
strange tension between the housemates the moment he had set foot in the room,
but he had more pressing matters than to ask Rusty what that was all about.
Rusty needed to know that he had an enemy on campus, and even if he brushed it
off, Matty thought it pretty important. Connor would surely spread ugly things
about Rusty, and he would try to attack his character, even though he didn't
know him at all.
That was unjust, and
Matty couldn't stand it. He hurried after Rusty into his room, and he was just
about to start explaining, when he was grabbed by his shoulders and pulled into
a fierce, demanding kiss. Rusty wasn't wasting time, and his hands were now
lower, searching for something. Matty gasped as Rusty planted both hands on his
ass and began kneading it in earnest.
It was mind-blowing, so
much so that Matty forgot for a moment that he was there to deliver important
news. He tried to pull away, but Rusty went at it relentlessly, now kissing his
neck, biting it teasingly, and pushing his jacket and the hooded sweatshirt
underneath upward, with the intention to undress him.
Matty took advantage of
the break given by Rusty having to throw those clothes on the back of a chair
to adjust his skewed glasses and make another attempt. "Rusty, there are some
things you need to know--"
Rusty was looking at his
naked chest as if he needed to strategize how to devour it. "Can't it wait?"
The voice was rough; it didn't leave room for a `no'.
"I guess it can," Matty
agreed and didn't protest as Rusty pulled him in for another hungry kiss, which
he answered with all the desire starting to burn inside him, too.
***
Matty looked just as
delicious as the night before, and right now, there was a whole world of
difference between him and everyone else, because unlike those others, he
understood him and didn't want him to change to fit a mold. No one understood
just how much that mattered to Rusty. They threw the word `change' around like
it was nothing, and people could just get up from their beds in the morning and
tell themselves that they could be different, just like that.
Maybe it was one-sided.
The chances were Matty had no clue Rusty saw him as his only true friend at the
moment and, if he knew, he'd be confused.
There was no time to
explain. He pushed Matty on the bed and got him out of his pants and underwear.
Yeah, he looked good enough to eat. "Your glasses," he said.
Matty nodded and took
them off, blinking and looking at him with narrowed eyes. Even like that, he
was cute as hell. Rusty felt warmth inside again. The shy unsure smile that
welcomed his probably all-knowing grin was enough to set him off. With one deep
breath, he dove in, and took Matty's cock in his mouth.
A sharp inhalation, and
soon, firm hands were in his hair, guiding him. A good fuck in the mouth was
basically what he needed right now. It was better than getting fucked over by
people with the best intentions in mind.
Damn, it felt great to
suck on a hard cock like that. How come it had never crossed his mind before?
Actually, it had, but he wasn't going to dwell on particulars at the moment.
The thing was, before, he had thought of it like from a sex-related point of
view, without the cock in question needing to be attached to a person in
particular.
Not exactly true. Again,
no particulars allowed to be involved. He had better things to do, like trying
to take Matty as far as he could. To his surprise, it was too much, and he had
to pull back and cough a little.
"Sorry," Matty said in a
pleading voice and pushed himself up on his elbows.
Rusty pushed him back
with one hand. "Not your fault. I just need some deep-throating training."
And what better time to
start than right now? He was good with the mechanics of sex, he liked to think.
While Matty didn't have a small pecker, his wasn't that unmanageable. Rusty
focused on the task at hand, and his mind began feeling at ease again. Yes,
this was firm ground, not whatever shaky goals he could dream for himself.
Matty was warm and solid
under his hands, and his moans were the cutest. If anyone dared to eavesdrop...
let them do it. Rusty had the right to enjoy himself a little.
Now, onto the task of
making it last for a bit. He placed himself comfortably between Matty's knees
and began licking the tasty lollipop on all sides.
"Rusty, you just--" Matty
complained, one arm thrown over his face.
He didn't finish. It took
Rusty a bit to realize what that meant. Obviously, he needed some more practice
to gauge each of those moments, and how Matty announced his impending release.
For that oversight, he missed most of it. What got into his mouth was not
enough, so he proceeded to chase it over Matty's smooth stomach, drop by drop.
***
Rusty looked like a
satisfied tomcat when he finally released Matty from his hold. Well, without
one shadow of a doubt, being cocksucking friends was
not only for real, but highly rewarding.
He watched as Rusty fell
by his side on the bed and stared at him with shiny eyes. "Was it better than
before? Am I getting better?"
"You're the best, and you
know it," Matty moaned his reply and covered his face again.
His hands were removed
and Rusty kissed him on the cheek. It felt like real affection, not just two
friends playing at giving each other blowjobs. "That's because I'm the only one
to have ever sucked your cock," came the follow-up.
As much as he loved to
indulge in the afterglow, Matty knew that he needed
to get to the order of business. But first, his eyes lingered on Rusty's nether
parts. As if the guy knew why he was checking him out, he turned on his belly
and placed his chin on top of his linked hands. There was a questioning look in
the pretty green eyes, but Matty didn't understand the question. "Don't you
want me to--" he started.
"Not right now." Rusty
rubbed himself against the bed for a moment. "I'm experimenting with delayed
gratification."
"Oh, really? How much
delay are we talking about?"
Rusty laughed and pushed
himself up only so that he could give Matty a deep dirty kiss. "You're playing
the smartass. I guess you need a bit of cum in your life."
"Always," Matty replied
brightly.
They stopped for a moment
and looked at each other. Moments like those were just making his heart beat
faster. He licked his dry lips for a moment and forgot everything he wanted to
say.
Rusty came to the rescue.
"What was it that you wanted to tell me?"
"Right." Matty searched
for his glasses and put them on.
Rusty laughed. "It looks
serious. I better cover you with the blanket."
Well, it was a bit funny
to start talking about serious stuff while naked and sexually satisfied. Rusty
pulled the blanket over him, and covered Matty up to his neck. Then, he admired
his handiwork. "I think I like putting you to bed," he declared.
Matty extracted his arms
and put them on top so that he could help himself while explaining about Connor
and his weird plans. He obviously needed his hands to add to the dramatic
nature of the situation. "Rusty, you won't believe it, but you have an enemy,"
he began.
Rusty gave him a silly
grin. "Just one? People hate me just because I'm pretty."
Matty rolled his eyes.
"How do I say this? Connor Williams is trying to turn you into persona non
grata."
"What's that? Some kind
of sexual kink?"
"I know you're joking,
and I know you know what it means."
"Okay, I do. So what's
Connor been up to?" Rusty asked. He didn't seem bothered in the least, and
Matty felt like his rushing there had been, well, too rushed.
"He's assembling this
sort of organization. They're against parties, hooking up, you know, all that
jazz."
Rusty nodded. "The things
I'm famous for."
Matty continued. "And he
got it into his head that people must be convinced to ignore you and pretend
you don't even exist."
Rusty's eyes grew wide.
Then, all of a sudden, he burst into laughter. "What, for real? That's stupid."
"Yes, I know," Matty said
impatiently, "but he's gaining a following."
Rusty stretched and
yawned. "I don't really care."
"You don't? But he's
basically staging a revolution to dethrone you," Matty insisted.
Another shrug followed.
Rusty adjusted his position and threw one arm around Matty's shoulders. "Let nutsos be nutsos. I have more
important things to do."
"Like what?"
Rusty laughed and kissed
his cheek. "Just to make it clear, you're sleeping here tonight."
"Um, I wasn't planning--"
"It doesn't matter. You
still have to make me come, and I don't like sleeping alone."
"Do you always have
someone over then?" Matty asked.
Rusty seemed to ponder
his next answer. "No, this is a recent development. It's your fault. I need
someone to suck me off and read me to sleep."
"In what order?" Matty
asked. "And I don't have any book with me."
Rusty waved. "The order
doesn't matter. And you can read to me about Ethics any time. It will surely
make me fall asleep the fastest. But, there are still many hours until then."
Matty didn't question
what Rusty planned on doing until then, because his mouth was covered by those
demanding lips again.
TBC
If you like
this story and you want to support me while writing it, here is my Patreon account:
https://www.patreon.com/laurasfox
My patrons
receive early access to chapters, complete books, bonus stories for finished
series, and other nice extras.