Page 99 of Dissolving Prejudice

“Maybe?” He raised one brow, and I’d already unzipped my pants.

“Yeah, maybe. I say, we give it another try and see what he has to say about being used.”

“Well.” Shay-Lee got off my lap and moved aside before tucking his hair behind his ear. “I must perform well, then,” he said, then ducked his head down and darted out his tongue to lick along my hard length.

We might have just fucked a while ago, but that didn’t stop us from going for another round that was just as hot. By the time we were done, it was almost dawn, and Shay-Lee had to go back home. I was sad to say goodbye, but when he gave me one last kiss while assuring we’d meet on Saturday at Soren’s stupid party, I promised to be a good boy and wait for him.

And I managed to do that for a whole two days until I couldn’t bear another minute without seeing him and so paid him a visit at work. And then at home when Jordan was away. Then another visit to his gym and yoga class, and before I knew it, it was Friday night, and I was counting the minutes to see him again… Tomorrow.

Shay-Lee

In the past few days, it seemed like Camilo was eager to make up for our time apart with how much we’d fucked. It would have been lovely if not for the fact it mostly took place in public places, such as the gym bathroom, the back room of the yoga studio, or the conference room at my office. Not that I was complaining, with how hot each time was. I’d nearly forgotten how much I loved sex. Erase that. How much I loved sex with Camilo. And while I did feel guilty about Jordan whenever I got on my knees to suck Camilo’s cock, the guilt was only brief and never enough to make me stop.

You’re allowed to be selfish. That was what Soren had told me, but I knew it was bullshit. I had absolutely no right to cheat on Jordan, but I’d done so much worse in my life that I already had a guaranteed spot in hell. Besides, I promised to break up with him, and I would. In a matter of a week, Jordan and I would be history. Why? Because I still had enough self-respect to know I couldn’t go sneaking behind his back forever, nor did I want to do that. Not only because Jordan deserved better but also—if not mostly—because Camilo did. He deserved so much more than quick fucks in dark parking lots that smelled of piss and burned oil.

We both did.

So, for now, and until I got back from visiting Jordan’s mom with him, I was a cheater. As simple as that. I was a piece of shit who fucked his ex-boyfriend behind his fiancé’s back and owned it. I owned being a shitty person.

I was just finishing wrapping up Soren’s gift—a bottle of pinot noir that I bought at an auction for almost a hundred thousand dollars—when Jordan entered our bedroom. Looking up from my present, I greeted him with a smile when I noticed he had brought a suitcase with him.

“What’s that for?” I asked.

“I want to start packing.”

“What for?” I tied a black ribbon around the bottle’s neck. “We won’t be leaving until Sunday morning.”

Jordan, who went inside our en suite bathroom a moment ago, came back with two of his colognes in hand. “The flight’s tomorrow morning,” he said, putting the bottles in his Dopp kit.

Stopping what I was doing, I frowned at him. “No it’s not.”

“Yeah, it is.” He tossed a few boxer briefs in his suitcase. “I sent you the tickets yesterday,” he added in a by-the-way comment.

My brows creased close. “You didn’t.”

“Sure did. I sent you an email.”

He went back into the bathroom, and I quickly pulled out my phone to check my emails. He did, in fact, send me the tickets. What the fuck?

“Well, it doesn’t matter because I can’t go tomorrow. You know it’s Soren’s party.”

Jordan came out of the bathroom, his face unfazed. “He’s only going back to work. Why does he even need to celebrate it?”

“After he got shot. He’s going back to work after he got shot.” I repeated the tiny little detail that seemed to have escaped Jordan’s mind.

After putting his toothbrush in, Jordan closed his toiletry bag and looked up at me. “Well, I already got the tickets, so just skip the damn party.”

I snorted because he was fucking delusional. “Sorry, but that’s never going to happen.” He knew how much I cared for Soren. “Anyway, I’ll just catch a different flight and join you later.”

Ready to drop the subject, as there was nothing more to say, I grabbed Soren’s gift and was ready to stand up when Jordan tsked. I knew it was nothing but a stupid sound, but it immediately reminded me of Orson, who always made that noise with his tongue. My blood ran cold with the memory of his vicious eyes, which used to follow me like a hawk, at the same time my heart accelerated, and the air in the room turned a bit stiffer—

“Why do you care for that party, anyway?”

“W-what did you just say?” I managed to snap out of my momentary panic and focus on Jordan’s expression, which seemed pissed by the tightness in his eyes.

“I said, why do you insist on going to that stupid party so much?”

Confused because I thought I made myself rather clear, I stood up. “What do you mean why? It’s ’cause of Soren.” Rubbing my arms to get warmer since my skin was still ice-cold from thinking about Orson, I decided to take a shower. “Why are we still talking about it?” I began walking to our bathroom, but as I passed by him on the way there, he grabbed my arm and turned me to face him.