He paused but didn’t turn around. Like a douche.
“If we do this, there are going to be some ground rules,” I said.
His shoulders shook and it took me a moment to realize he was laughing at me.
And because I could, I picked up an old makeup brush from the vanity and chucked it at the back of his head. I had perfect aim and it bounced off his skull. He whirled around with a glare. I batted my eyelashes at him.
“Rules,” I said.
“Fine,” he said as he began to stalk toward me again. “Rules.”
“Rule one, you don’t touch me unless I invite you to,” I said.
“Rule two,” he said, “rule one is stupid because if we’re boyfriends, then I can touch you anytime I want.”
“Fine, no inappropriate touching. And we’re fake boyfriends.”
“Define inappropriate.”
“You’ll find out when I break your fingers.”
He grinned.
“Rule three,” I said through gritted teeth as he came to stand before me again. “No trying to sabotage this at any point. I know seven ways to murder a man and before you die, I’ll show you all seven.”
“Wouldn’t the first one kill me since it’s a way to murder me?”
“All seven,” I hissed at him.
“Rule four,” he said, that smirk coming back. “We go out together.”
Ugh. That sounded terrible. “Only in public where people can see us,” I amended. “No inviting me to your house where I assume the bedroom smells like twink jizz and sadness.”
He shrugged. “It also smells like vanilla. Because of the scented candles.”
“You have scented candles.”
“Well, yeah. I am gay, you know.”
“Huh. That doesn’t quite fit in with my view of you. Though, I suppose you can have scented candles and still have mirrors on your ceiling above your bed and slots on your bedposts meant specifically for handcuffs.”
“Wow.” He cocked his head at me. “You sure seem to spend a lot of time thinking about my bedroom.”
“Rule five,” I said, refusing to be baited. “You can’t fuck twinks while this is going on.”
“Rule six,” he said. “You can’t fuck homo jocks while this is going on.”
“Rule seven, you can’t fuck anyone while this is going on.”
“Rule eight, neither can you.”
“Fine. Rule nine, no sex at all. With anyone.” And then, as an afterthought, “Or me.”
He looked slightly horrified at such a thought, and I was almost offended. He quickly schooled his face into his usual leer. “You say that now.”
“Yeah,” I said sweetly. “I highly doubt I’ll change my mind on that one. I do have standards, after all.”
He leaned forward, and for a moment, I thought he was going to kiss me. Instead, he did something worse and scraped his cheek against mine, his hot breath on my ear, hands coming to rest on my waist. “You sure about that, Sandy? Because you don’t sound like you’re sure.”