Page 92 of The Secret Girl (Adamson All-Boys Academy 1)
One of the gifts … is a hunting knife with a serrated edge. Just looking at it, and imagining hurting someone with it makes me feel sick, so I move quickly onto the other.
When I open it … I find a dick and balls.
Like, I'm not even joking.
It's a big, soft floppy dick with balls attached, like a dildo, but like … flaccid.
I hit dial on Micah's number because this just screams McCarthy twin BS.
“Why did you send me a flaccid dick?” I ask, trying to decide if I should laugh or like, flush it down the toilet.
His chuckle reverberates through the line.
“Um, it's called a packer. It's meant to be put in your pants, so you can pass the grab test.” I seriously facepalm in that moment. Hard. But since I'm holding the, um, packer in my hand, I actually facepalm straight into a flaccid dick and balls.
If only Archie knew the shenanigans these boys were putting me up to.
“Fine, I'll bite. What's the grab test?” I ask, trying not to laugh. Micah's still chuckling, like he just can't help himself.
“In a gay bar, it's not all that uncommon for a dude to grab another dude's junk. You know, to like get a sample on what he's packing.”
“This is the dumbest shit I've ever heard,” I say, dangling the fake pecker in front of my face. It flops around like one of those little bobble heads you put on the dash in your car. “How do you even know that? Do you spend a lot of time in gay bars?”
“Ross does,” he says, and even though I can't see him, I swear I can feel him grinning from two floors down. “A lot of transgender dudes use them, too. They're totally legit. We just thought you might like it. You know, to keep the secret and all.”
“Uh-huh, sure,” I say with a roll of my eyes. Although … I may or may not be slightly curious about the damn thing. I like being a girl, but … what if I just tried it for a second? Just to see what it's like? “I feel like this is just another spider jar incident.”
“If you don't want it, give it to Ross. He likes to wear them to enhance his tiny dick. Have fun, Charlotte, and if you do wear it, we won't tell.” Micah hangs up on me, and then immediately texts me some inappropriate gifs that I ignore.
I set my phone aside and bite my lower lip.
“Okay, fuck it, I'm alone.” I stand up and shimmy out of my slacks, tossing them aside, taking a deep breath, and then putting the stupid floppy thing in my panties. “Huh.” I turn to the side and admire my new bulge. It's pretty realistic looking. Well, not that I have a ton of experience with dicks, but still. “Not bad, Chuck.” I give myself an appreciative little squeeze as my phone buzzes, and I grab it off the floor.
It's just Tobias, adding yet more cock gifs to my phone.
“Condom face,” I grumble, chucking the phone on my bed. It hits at just the right angle that it bounces off and behind the headboard. With a sigh, I climb up after it, my blazer hanging loosely from my shoulders, my ass up in the air as I scramble around for the phone. My stupid tie falls over my mouth and nose, choking me, so I bite it to get it out of the way, one hand on the bed for balance, the other digging behind the headboard.
There's a sound from behind me, like the doorknob's being jiggled, and I glance back, a spark of fear shooting through me as I wonder if my attackers are back.
But then it's kicked open and there's Spencer.
There. Is. Spencer.
His turquoise eyes go so wide, I swear to god, they look like they're about to pop right out. Since I'm glancing back at him, I can see my reflection in the mirror beside my door. There I am, bent over with the tie in my mouth, my blue and white striped panties showing, and a big juicy bulge where there shouldn't be one.
“H-h-holy shit,” he murmurs, stepping inside, and slamming his back against the door to close it. He studies me with this intense hunger that just paralyzes me even further. I swear, I can barely move. “Chuck, holy shit.” Spencer reaches down, like he's trying to cover up his own growing bulge.
I spit the tie out of my mouth and turn around, grabbing a handful of blankets and yanking them over my lap.
“What are you doing breaking into my room?!” I scream, shaking with adrenaline. I mean, I'm glad it's Spencer and not some crazy murderer, but still. He has no right.
“Oh, Chuck,” he says again, his voice this low purr. “I was seriously starting to question myself again, but … you're so goddamn beautiful. At this point, I don't care if I'm gay or bi or just a confused straight asshole, but … I want you.”
