Sick and Twisted

Sick and Twisted (BoyxBoy)

A collection that I hid away in my room, where no one dared to venture. And whenever I was feeling particularly naughty, I may or may not have used them to sate my desires. With protection of course! Resin definitely shouldn't be exposed to the inner workings of a person's ass. Who knows what kind of nightmare that would have been health wise.

The urge to pull out my precious sculptures now was pressing on me but I knew I had to finish this essay if I ever hoped to graduate on time. If I lost my scholarship, I didn't just lose my chance at an education but Harley too. There was no way I could have afforded Uni otherwise.

I relaxed on my bed and typed away. A fifteen page essay on Nineteenth Century Theater and Drama was due by next week and I haven't even touched the textbook. Thank goodness for the internet.

The only sound echoing off the walls of the room was the incessant tapping of my fingers on the keyboard and it was driving me insane. I couldn't stay cooped up in my room all day, it wasn't good for my progress. Or that was just another excuse to procrastinate.

Pushing the laptop aside, I slipped on my paint splattered canvas sneakers, grabbed my keys, and left the dorm.

It was a pretty nice day out, a bit of a chilly breeze, which made me regret not grabbing my jacket before I left. This little t-shirt was doing nothing to warm my skin. Gooseflesh began to rise on my arms and I tried to rub them away.

There was our Uni cafe, Grindz, right around the corner and I headed straight over. For a place that accepted meal swipes as their primary currency, their coffee was pretty decent.

The place was packed with all the students that attended the college. It was a nice little hang out spot, to relax with friends between classes. I managed to grab a table near the back before it grew crowded after ordering my coffee and an apple tart. I pulled out my phone and started playing a few games, ignoring the hum of people around me, taking a few sips of my drink and nibbles of my food.

I didn't know how long it had been, but I was deep into my game when I heard a specific voice that caught my immediate attention.

Good God, Harley Neilson was gorgeous.

He entered with a few of his teammates. He was smiling, blinding the world with those pearly whites and gracing our ears with that low, sensual, husky laugh of his that sent shivers down my spine. His disheveled black locks fell into those intense, stormy gray blue eyes of his. I sighed with longing. If only.

Harley's eyes flickered over to meet mine.

I didn't let myself get excited because I knew it was only a casual sweep of his surroundings. He wasn't looking at me in particular but at my general area, most likely to scope out a free table. It was wishful thinking that had me excited.

I'd better not insinuate anything and get my hopes up.

Tearing my eyes away from him, I looked back down at my phone and frowned when I realized I had lost my game. Frustrated now, I gulped the rest of my coffee and scarfed down the remnants of the pastry. Pushing the seat back, I hurried out of the place but not before slipping past Harley, catching another glimpse of those dark tan muscles of his.

Harley caught my eye again and stared with a concentrated expression.

Shocked by Harley's sudden attention and the knowledge that he was truly looking at me, I tripped over a man's foot and ended up falling right into him. This close, I could smell the sandalwood scent of his cologne, feel the strength in his hands gripping me. It took everything in me to fight back a whimper.

Composing myself quickly, I straightened myself up and offered him a sheepish grin. "Sorry about that. Thanks."

Harley smiled at me, "No problem."