Page 19 of Bro Code

He sat with his mouth open, staring down and unable to stop thrusting as Louis’ head bounced between his thighs. He fisted a handful of his dense hair to hold him still, just to feel like he had some control over the situation – but Louis just grabbed him by the wrist and said, “Mm mm, don’t touch the hair,” around his cock, which sent a vibration into Riley’s balls that made him say, “God,” and jolt his hips involuntarily.

It was probably less than five minutes before he could feel himself getting close, and he started squirming, clenching his fingers in the mattress and blowing air through his cheeks as he tried desperately to rein it in, because five minutes was fucking pathetic and Louis already looked so, so fucking smug. But he couldn’t stop it. He came, growling angrily, twitching and jerking his hips. When Louis had drained him to the point that his legs were shaking and he was biting his lips together to keep from helplessly moaning, he sat back on his heels and wiped the corner of his mouth with one fingertip.

“How was that?”

“Fine,” muttered Riley.

“Oh I think it was better than fine,” said Louis. He got to his feet and Riley reached for him, but Louis twisted artfully out of his hands like a cat, scooping up his shirt. He slipped it on and started buttoning it up and Riley just sat there, spent and spit-covered, with his cock deflating onto his thigh like a sad little party balloon. Post-nut clarity set in with a wave of humiliation: he felt like he’d been thoroughly schooled.

He blinked as Louis picked up his shoes and went to the door and started slipping them on. “You’re leaving?”

“Seemed like you wanted to get this done quickly.” Louis lifted one shoulder, smiling that irritating little smile. “I wouldn’t want to keep you.”

That made no fucking sense. Why wouldn’t he want to get the favor returned? Was he trying to make a point? Or be mysterious? Riley wasn’t gonna get the chance to reciprocate, or even see the pretty cock from the picture?

He wanted to see the pretty cock from the picture!

“Did I do something to you?” he said. “Why are you being such an insufferable prick?”

“Am I? I suppose I hadn’t noticed.” Louis opened the door and turned in the doorway. “Until next time.”

“There isn’t gonna be a next time,” Riley growled.

“Oh, bébé.” He did a little pout. “If you say so.”

“I’m serious.”

“We’ll see.” He blew a little kiss. “À bientôt!”

CHAPTER SEVEN

Louis

Louis weaved between tables toward the breakfast buffet, holding his laptop bag back with his elbow so it didn’t bash people in the head as he went by.

“Sorry. Excuse me. Oh, right behind you. Sorry. Désolé. Merci.”

He made it to the buffet and kept pinning the bag back with his elbow while he awkwardly loaded up a plate. He got a cup of coffee from the carafe, then turned around with his hands full to scan the room for a seat.

His stomach pitted with a feeling he hadn’t felt since he was kid. It was like being transported back to the cafeteria at secondary school in Guadeloupe. Just a sea of jocks. Back on the island, it was football players (real football, not American football), and everyone was black, but same difference. Every single person in here looked like the kind of guy who would’ve gladly held his head in a toilet.

Sighing, Louis waded into the sea.

“Sorry. Désolé. Excuse me. Merci. Sorry.”

He was halfway across when he saw an open seat: Riley was at a table by himself, sipping a cup of coffee and watching the mountains with a thousand yard stare.

Why was he sitting alone? This was supposed to be team bonding, wasn’t it? Did the other guys not like him or something?

Louis eyed the empty chair across from him, thinking about last night. He hadn’t intended to go to Riley’s room. Sending a picture? After Riley had already said no? It was undignified. But when he’d opened the app and seen that Riley was online, it felt like an opportunity to remind him who the show-stopping Louis Debonnes was.

And then Riley sent that one text: Seems like if you were any good I would’ve remembered.

And Louis had thought, Fuck you, gros con, remember this.

Riley had been as hot as he remembered. And sucking the cock Louis had been ogling in Calvin Klein ads for months felt just as deliciously deviant as he’d been hoping it would. Skipping out without doing anything else had been partly self-preservation: if Riley had gone down on him, there was a distinct chance it might’ve broken Louis’ brain, and he was not interested in that happening.

Which meant absolutely not eating breakfast with him, either. He turned around and looked for another table.