Him

But here’s the thing about family, Ryan…blood doesn’t mean shit. You just need to surround yourself with people who do love you, and they become your family.

Jamie Canning was my first crush and my first love. But he was never mine to have.

I’ve been walking around with a hollow chasm in my chest where my heart used to be. But that gaping hole is full again. My heart is back, because Jamie is here. And he fucking loves me.

Our mouths fit together so perfectly. Every time we kiss, I fall even more in love with him, and it has nothing to do with sex or lust. It's him. His closeness and his scent and the way he soothes me.

My dick and I reached an understanding.” “Yeah? And what’s that?” I ask curiously. He shrugs. “We both like you.

I…” He clears his throat. “I’d let you do it, though.” My hand freezes in his hair. “You would?” Wes nods. “I’d let you do anything to me, Canning.

I hold him as close as I dare. Even if my entire life goes to shit before breakfast tomorrow, I’ll always have this night.

Like me, Jamie has two speeds: horny and asleep.

Because I’d wanted to touch him more than I’d wanted my next breath.

I love you. The words are always right there on the tip of my naughty tongue. I swallow them back like I need to and say something much more practical instead. “Have you ever been acquainted with your prostate?

God, when I go gay, I really go gay.

Ready to come harder than you’ve ever come in your life?” I ask solemnly, lifting one of his knees up. He smiles. “You sure you want to put that much pressure on yourself, dude?” “No pressure. Just fact. Science has proven it.

Why hasn’t anyone ever told me the prostate was some kind of magical pleasure zone? Are there unicorns and orgasm fairies dancing around in there?

and—wait, I’m sorry, did you call me Ryan Theodore?” She waves her hand as if the question is inconsequential. “I don’t know your middle name so I had to make one up. Because, sweetie, you really needed to be middle-named for mangling those poor onions.

Remove this quote from your collection “His mourh twitches "My dick and I reached an understanding" "Yeah? And what's that?" I ask curiously He shrugs. "We both like you" Fuck yeah.

I am not a snob, because I know opulence doesn't stamp out ignorance and unhappiness.

I don’t think I’ll ever forget the day Pat walked into the gym and found us—me, flat on my stomach with Jamie’s knee digging into the back of my neck, while I yelled “Ballsack!” over and over again.

You really do love me, huh?” “Always have.” I swallowed hard. “Always will.

Last I saw him, he was sucking on a bottle of whiskey like he was trying to make it come.

What are you waiting for, Ryan? Suck it already.

I'm supposed to be here taking measurements, but I haven't even brought a measuring tape. And it's not the apartment I need to measure -- it's the size of my balls.

What kind of city doesn’t have a football team? Explain that to me, Wes.” “They do have one,” I point out. “The Argonauts.” Richard narrows his eyes. “Is it an NFL team?” “Well, no, it’s CFL, but—” “Then they don’t have a team,” he says firmly. I stifle a laugh.

You acted like a total douchecanoe

Jesus. Good thing he’s not a traffic cop, because he’s sending enough mixed signals to cause a ten-car pileup.

I’m attracted to women, no doubt about it. I’m also attracted to men, apparently. Wonderful. Complicated fellow, my dick.

You’re saying you don’t want me?” Aw hell. “No, I’m saying this is a bad idea.” “You’re the king of bad ideas,” he reminds me. “At least this one ends with both of us feeling good.

Summer’s a total cocktease.” He shrugs, repeating himself. “It always ends.” He’s right about that. Summer always ends.

The question now isn’t whether I want to fool around with this man. The question is how I’m ever going to give it up.