Chapter Ten

Charlie

M ine?

Fucking hell, Trent has caught me by the balls I don’t physically have and is holding me hostage.

I claimed him all right, but had scared myself by nearly calling him my boyfriend. Neither of us was ready to move so quickly. Trent was experimenting with his newfound sexual attraction to more genders than one, and I was helping him.

At first, I thought I’d gotten my friend back and we could fool around with no strings attached, but Trent didn’t get that memo. Apparently, neither did I, because when I told him he was mine, I’d meant it.

Once again, I’d been thankful for the sex shop next to my apartment to be open late and carry a vast assortment of kink toys, including pink cock cages. This time, I’d left with two bags full of other items I imagined using with Trent and that in itself was a dead giveaway of how deep I already was.

My knee was jumping as I waited for Trent at my place, so I scrolled through our messages. Wanting to check how my Cupcake was doing prancing around with a chastity device on, I’d been asking him for updates. He’d never been disappointed with his flow of details in texts throughout the day and over the phone in the evening. The pics he’d sent were a permanent spank bank addition cause, holy fuck, he looked fantastic in a pink cock cage with a tiny bead of pre-cum at the tip, his abs on display.

The sharp pounding on the door had me flying off the couch and skidding down the corridor.

“You knock like it’s a raid and I’m a suspect.” I kissed his parted lips, not giving him a chance to say something silly like “sorry,” and pulled him inside by the jersey.

“Hello to you too.” He lifted a bag and handed me a tray with two takeaway cups. “I bought coffee and snacks.”

“You shouldn’t have,” I said as I brought the drink to my lips.

“Well, my parents taught me not to visit anyone empty-handed.” He set the bag on the kitchen counter and lifted his eyebrows at my chugging down the drink.

“You can’t take a small town out of a boy, huh?”

“I guess not.”

The sound of footsteps reminded me that Trixie was home. I’d told her that my friendship with Trent developed more, but didn’t include the details

“Hi Trent.” Trixie marched past us towards the door. “I’m off. Oh, Charlie? I won’t be able to make it to the concert next week.” She suppressed a smile and shrugged. “So you can give my ticket away.” The look she gave me said she’d planned it all along. “Don’t wait for me, I have a cute little minx waiting for me downtown so I might not be back before tomorrow.” She waved her fingers, retreating through the open doorway. “Or ever.”

The door clicked closed, and I locked it for good measure. Having meddling besties was a blessing and a curse I’d have to live with.

“How are you doing?” I poked his front bulge with the back of my hand.

He gasped but stayed in place. “This evil device accumulates the horniness and now it’s even stronger. I need your help, Charlie.”

“What kind of help?” I crossed my arms and propped a hip against the counter.

He danced his fingers down my forearm to my hand. “Make me feel like before. Like I’m yours.”

Whoa okay, I wasn’t expecting him to hit me in the feels so hard.

“I will try.” I kissed his knuckles, knowing I had to make him work for what I had in store. “Did you prepare like I asked?”

He nodded. “I douched. Which was weird but also made me horny. As if I was getting ready for good railing.” He did that thing where he bounced on the balls of his feet in a microscopic way, sending his body in a wave mode as if he was a dog wagging a tail. “Is that what you have planned?”

“You have uncovered my evil plan, detective.” I waved a hand in a grandiose gesture and reveled in Trent’s joyous laughter. “So you brought coffee and snacks but expect me to go straight to fuckeroo, my Cupcake?”

“You’re so mean, but yes.” He crossed his arms. “Can’t you tell I’m dying here?”

“Delayed gratification has many benefits.” I traced a finger down his chest.

“But it’s been two days.” He pouted. “I sense a pattern here. First, you won’t show me your music, now this. Maybe you’re a sadist?”

I snorted at his dramatics, then gripped him by the throat. “No. But I want you to be a begging mess once I take care of you today.”

He whimpered, gripping the countertop behind him. “I can’t wait.” The flush on his cheeks grew deeper, and I filed his reaction for later.

“Would listening to my music be a good distraction?” I slid my hand down his arm, then intertwined our fingers.

“Oh yeah. I don’t know much about music, so you can be assured I won’t judge it. But it’s a big part of you that I don’t know yet.”

“Then I’ll play some for you.”

“Really?” He followed me to the living room. “You’ve been so protective of it.”

“Nah. I just don’t want you to be disappointed.”

“That’s not possible. I’ve seen how talented you are.” The honesty in Trent’s voice told me he truly believed it.

“Original music is much different. We sent songs to several labels and got no response. That’s hardly encouraging. And no one wants to write about us in magazines or influencer spaces to bring people to our gigs. Social media can do so much if it’s only the three of us posting, you know?”

Trent nodded and propped his elbows on his knees, waiting.

I took a deep breath as a twinge of nerves struck me in the stomach.

Sharing my songs for the first time with someone whose opinion mattered to me, was scary and intimate.

And that’s why I wanted to share it with Trent so much.