Following the Rules (The Script Club 1)

“…you’ll need to read chapters two and three. I’ll jump ahead and tackle the next few. We can discuss them Tuesday morning. But if you have any questions, you can text me.”

“You’re busy this weekend.”

“I am?”

“You’re moving into a new house, remember?” I twisted the cap off my water bottle. I took a deep drink, waggling my brows to make him laugh when he froze.

“Oh, yes, but school is important and—”

“It’s not that important. Hey, don’t worry about this stuff,” I gestured to our makeshift work area at the island and continued in an extra-friendly voice I hoped would set him at ease. “Moving sucks, and you’ll have enough on your plate. Are you packed?”

Topher zipped his computer bag and pulled his keys from a side pocket. “Um, not really. My friend Cody’s boyfriend paid our rent through the first week of September. I have an extra week, so I don’t have to rush to get everything out in one day.”

“That’s a sweet deal. Why’d he do that?”

“He’s in a rock and roll band, and he wanted Cody to go on tour with him.”

“Oh, yeah? Which one?”

“Jealousy.”

“No fucking way. I love those guys!”

Topher gave a weak half smile and slung his strap over his shoulder. “Yeah, they’re cool. Uh, I should go.”

I grabbed his arm before he raced to the door. “Hang on. Are you okay? You seem a little anxious today.”

“Me? No.” He bit his bottom lip, then licked it.

My gaze locked on his mouth for a beat too long. And no kidding…my dick swelled against my zipper. I was so distracted by my reaction to that harmless little gesture that it took me a moment to notice he was visibly shaking.

“Hey, maybe you should relax for a sec—”

“Oh, no, no. I have to—” Topher pointed in the general direction of the street and stepped backward. “It’s a drive. A long drive. Traffic too. Lots of traffic. You live very far away. Not too far, well, maybe it is too far. Don’t mind me. I don’t know about those things. Or perhaps I do.”

“Topher?”

“Did you know that the distance between Pasadena and Malibu is forty-two point six miles without traffic? With traffic, it’s an hour or more. Which means it’s a two-hour drive minimum. There are positives, though.” He motioned toward the living area, then the window as he took another step backward…and another. “This is a beautiful house and that’s a beautiful ocean and you have the most beautiful eyes in the—whoa!”

Topher clipped the corner edge of the sofa and fell sideways onto the cushions before landing flat on his ass, wedged beside the coffee table. And somewhere in the mix, he must have sat on the universal remote control. A wall of sound instantly flooded the room, and Jimi Hendrix blasted through the speakers loud enough to rattle my eardrums.

But wait…it got better.

The giant flat-screen flickered to life at the same time, and feverish sex noises drowned out the din of “Purple Haze.”

No joke.

“Fuck me, you brute. Fuck me harder. Oh, yes, baby. Oh, yes. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck!”

So, I had a few fires going at once.

My brother’s friend was still on the floor, Jimi was still wailing, and the threesome on the seventy-inch flat-screen was getting hot and heavy. The woman was the most vocal, but that might have been ’cause the two men had their tongues down each other’s throats. I’d actually seen this one. Any second now, the muscular dude fucking the woman was going to beg the other man to fuck him. It would turn into one of those “sex train” situations that seemed almost impossible to choreograph in real time but was entertaining to watch.

Except, not now.

I jumped over the sofa and pulled Topher up by the elbow, guiding him to a nearby chair as I frantically scanned the area for the remote.

“Oh, my God. I’m so embarrassed,” Topher moaned, leaning forward to put his head between his knees.

“You’re embarrassed? Holy fuck. Help me find the remote. I can’t make it stop,” I yelled.

“I want that hard dick in my ass. I want you to drill me like the sergeant you are.”

Topher cast a sharp, wide-eyed glance my way. “Is this military porn?”

“I don’t know,” I lied. “Just help.”

“Okay, okay.”

“Don’t stop. Don’t stop, please. I need your cock, sir.”

I tossed the cushions over the side of the sofa willy-nilly. Honestly, I was shocked I didn’t break anything. I hadn’t been this revved up in months. My adrenaline level was off the charts. My heartbeat rang in my ears alongside the vocal three-way “Fuck me” and Jimi’s “Help me, help me.” And then—

Silence. Blessed silence.

I let out a ragged breath and turned to Topher, who was wielding the remote like a boss.

“Wow. That was intense.” I sighed, setting my hands on my hips as I surveyed the mess.