Pretty Boy (The Boys of Apartment 13, #1)

by Brianna Flores

I want to be the one whose pleasure is the focus, not the other way around. Why can’t I just lay there and take it? I am not at all a giving person. Give it to me, dammit. Give me all of the things. That’s what I want.

I like him. I have a crush on this guy. A big one. I don’t know what this means, how it’s possible to go from straight to wanting everything from some big-tattooed dude, but it’s there. And I want everything. His attention, the words he speaks, the very air he breathes. I want him to like me, to want me as much as I want him.

His tatted hands––black and grey roses on each one, with a bunch of smaller random tattoos on each finger––would look so good on me. Anywhere. My neck. My arms or legs. My dick. Ugh. They’d look so fucking good on my dick. I just know it.

I’m a one-and-done kind of guy, and Liam here screams clingy. Fucking screams it.

Such a pretty little thing, I think, my lips pressed against his throat. “So soft and sweet,”

“Shh,” I soothe, rubbing my hand in a circular motion on his lower back. “You said easy, Liam. I’m going to take care of this little hole, I promise, but I’m doing this how you need it. So gentle, isn’t that right, beautiful?”

“You get my cock now. And you’re gonna be so good for me, aren’t you?”

“Liam, you wanting me does not mean that I want you.” “Oh.” My shoulders slump, and I have to look down so that he can’t see it when my face reflects how much that fucking hurt me. I’m not even surprised. I mean, I didn’t see it coming, but yeah. Makes sense that he doesn’t want me. Nobody really does and that’s something I’m aware of, so why does this bother me? There are so many reasons for him to not want me.

“You forgot what? How open and wet you left your hole for me? Just like a good little cunt should be, huh?”

“Jesus,” I mutter quietly. “You’re fucking filthy.” “I’m what you made me,” he accuses, still breathing heavily, broad chest moving as his body starts to sink into the couch. Mine, my entire body sings. I’ve made him mine.

“I want you, Bash.” My throat tightens but I power through. “I want you as you are, all the broken pieces as they come. I want to help you put them all back together. I don’t want you to do that alone. Please don’t push me away. I––I hope that things between you and my dad, and you and Cade get better, because, I’m sorry but they’re in my life for good, but I want you to be a permanent fixture too.”