Top Secret

by Sarina Bowen

If you can call your girlfriend wanting a threesome with another dude “nothing.” Yup, my girlfriend wants a threesome. And here I’d thought that, after six years together, Annika couldn’t surprise me anymore.

Annika Schiffer, heiress to a home-furnishings fortune, wants to bang two guys at the same time? Yeah right. My girl is the president of her sorority, wears a pearl necklace (and not the fun kind) on a daily basis, and made me wait until we were eighteen to lose our virginities to each other.

Luke is a cocky ass when he wants to be, and Judd hates feeling like he’s being mocked or judged. Oh, and then Bailey banged Judd’s ex. So there’s that.

I have a football game to win, a campaign to plan, and a father to impress. And a girlfriend to please.

Fun fact: the president of the fraternity doesn’t have to pay rent. He gets a free room. A. Free. Room. So guess who’s running for president?

Sometimes I don’t have to choose at all. Kink also has a section for couples looking to add someone to their bed. That’s what I tap on now. Threesomes waiting to happen.

Oh, and his handle is LobsterShorts, which makes me laugh. At least he can acknowledge the ridiculousness of that preppy bathing suit. Another vote in his favor.

Can I give you a little piece of advice? If your girl is worried about privacy, take the birthday thing out of your profile. Your neighborhood computer geek could cross reference that against social media pretty easily and find out who you are. Fuuuuuck is his response. BRB.

I decide to be blunt. Watching me fuck her? Does she want to watch us? Do you want my hands on you or just on her? Want to fuck me? Want to be fucked? Options are endless…

Or maybe sexting with LobsterShorts. Logging out of the app last night was painfully hard. So was the state of my dick. You have no idea how hot it is helping a guy explore his sexuality.

older brother who will drag me down with him if I let him. A deadbeat dad I haven’t seen since I was two. A drama-queen mom who would probably marry her eldest son if society didn’t frown upon it. I’m not even joking here—Mom’s love for Joey borders on…creepy.

Oh, did I mention I’m a stripper? Some dudes prefer “male entertainer” or “exotic dancer,” but I call a spade a spade.

Luke Bailey’s grumpy face appears at my open door. He’s shirtless, and I wonder once again how he’s so ripped for a guy who doesn’t play a sport.

I’m twenty-one years old and still trying to please my daddy. In fact, I just read a study, where a scientist did MRIs on some dogs. (I seriously can’t imagine how. Hold still... Good boy!) And he found that their brains light up just as enthusiastically for praise as they do for food. In other words, I’m as smart as a golden retriever.

After the guy walks away, my father asks a simple question. “Do you have any big plans for your birthday?” Annika’s eyes go wide, and when I try to swallow, my water goes down the wrong pipe.

And I’m imagining how good a guy could be at giving head. It takes a dick to know a dick, right?

LobsterShorts: The female pees into the male’s shelter. And the dude is like OH BABY. Then they both pee on each other. She enters his den and molts. He kicks her clothes away like a prom dress. Then they do it missionary style. SinnerThree: That’s a lot of detail, dude. I don’t know whether to be terrified or turned on.

Suddenly I find myself spreading my legs quicker than a cheerleader doing the splits.

But I even wish I could hear his voice. There’s something base about his tone that I don’t mind at all. It’s honest. Here’s how I want you and here’s how I’ll get it. Apparently I have an honesty kink. Who knew?

I don’t know what I just learned, except…not one of my thoughts these past ten minutes had anything to do with Annika or her birthday.

I don’t know why I should care. But I’m starting to like the guy. I mean—lobster sex! And here I thought nerds were boring. I’ll admit it. I want to meet him.

Why? I almost blurt out. Why do they need to “suffer”? To be honest, I’ve never understood the concept of hazing. It’s supposed to be about bonding, right? Creating long-lasting friendships with your fellow brothers?

I genuinely feel queasy, and this is coming from a man who swallows when giving a blowjob.

“Judging by the hard-on he got tonight at the thought of watching other guys fuck watermelons, I’d say, yes, it wouldn’t surprise me if Judd was into locker room ass play.”

LobsterShorts: I’m fresh out of lobster sex facts atm. BUT…lemme tell you about sea slugs. SinnerThree: Omg yes. I can’t wait for this. Hold on. Let me undo my pants.

LobsterShorts: No lmao. OK, bad analogy. Basically, they fence with their cocks. The contest determines who’s the top and who’s the bottom. SinnerThree: OMFG. For real? LobsterShorts: I swear. Look up “flatworm penis fencing.” I’ll wait.

SinnerThree: Picture this: I’m behind you. My hand is wrapped around your rock-hard dick. And I’m jacking you while I’m drilling you.

What would Annika think of me right now? Annika! The reminder of her is once again jarring. What the hell is happening here? The conversation began with Sinner asking what Annika likes in bed, and somehow turned into the two of us discussing banging each other.

“I’ll do all the bookings. Joe will go out and do the repairs.” Holy shit. Because everyone wants to give a felon access to their homes?

“That guy might be a prick, but he is built.” I tweak a strand of her hair. “Don’t get any ideas. Neither one of us will be fucking him.”

There’s even a vegetable plate for Munsen, who doesn’t eat meat. I don’t miss the way the brothers devour everything.

Our only gay brother literally hops to his feet and starts bumping his hips against one of the girls who’s still on land.

That fucking evil genius. Food and strippers. He really does know the way to a man’s heart.

“Twelve hundred,” Hoffman says. “But dude, that was the whole budget. You weren’t allowed to go over.” “I’m covering it,” Keaton says. “No.” Hoffman shakes his head. “The point of the Dance-off is to throw a killer party inside that budget.”

But it’s true that the Dance-off isn’t the most important measure of a man.” “Right.” Owen nods. “We have dick measurements for that.”

“I look like an asshole now.” Dad shrugs. “So what? Assholes win. You know you’re the best man for the job. Don’t make this more complicated than it has to be.”

Her Christmas gift to me is a winter hat with the Patriots logo on it. I’ve never been interested in football, but that’s my mom for you.

LobsterShorts: Hummingbirds eat twice their weight in food every day. Although, so do I. SinnerThree: Well, you are a growing boy. LobsterShorts: In more ways than one ;) He follows that up with, As in, I’m growing right now… And then—oh fuck yeah—an image appears in the chat thread. He’s growing, all right. The hard cock in the pic makes me salivate.

“Not until we straighten this out.” “Straighten what out?” I say wearily. “It was a dumb coincidence. I didn’t set you up, you didn’t set me up. I’m bisexual, you’re bicurious. Whatever. It’s done.”

“Never would’ve told me what a hot dick I have?” I taunt. “Fuck you⁠—” “Fuck me, yes,” I interrupt, laughing darkly. “That’s exactly what you wanted to do, remember, Keaton? You wanted to fuck me. You wanted me to fuck you. You wanted me. You wanted this⁠—” I grab him by the back of the neck and kiss him.

Bailey’s body is unreal. And now the asshole’s tongue is in my mouth again.

When I glance up at him again, he’s pulling on a pair of sweatpants. Which means I just missed a view of his bare ass.

But I know better now. Keaton isn’t a dumb jock. He’s a biology major, and he’s far more intelligent than he lets on.

SinnerThree: I’m just saying, if hooking up with a woman tonight is just going to remind you of Annika, maybe do it with someone who can’t remind you of her. LobsterShorts: Someone with a penis? SinnerThree: Why not? LobsterShorts: Someone like you?

Seriously, the dung beetle mating ritual—where the male rolls a turd to impress his lady friends—is less predictable than this party.

He dared me and then disappeared before I could say anything. He got the last word. I hate that fucking guy. I hate him, and I also want him to blow me.

Whatever it is, it’s just loud enough that he doesn’t hear me approach. So I have a private view of him as he perches on the edge of the bed, raising and lowering his legs while balancing a dumbbell across his ankles to up the ante on the workout.

My mouth opens like a hungry bird’s, and his tongue sweeps inside and clobbers me with sensation.

I fight off a horny shiver and then remove my football jacket. “Get off me if you want to get me off.”

This break in the action gives me a chance to think about what I’m doing. Stripping down for Luke Bailey. Yup, thinking is overrated.