My Anti-Boyfriend Read online

  My Anti-Boyfriend

  Copyright 2017 DJ Jamison

  Published by DJ Jamison at KDP

  Cover design by Lucas Soltow

  KDP Edition License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return Amazon.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Warning: This book contains sexually explicit content suitable for mature readers.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Epilogue

  Thank You for reading

  About the Author

  Other Books

  Chapter 1

  Brad had everyone fooled.

  He wore his sexuality like a disguise. The short shorts, making his ass look fine and flashing perfectly tanned skin 12 months a year? The mesh shirts, the halter tops, the extra-tight T-shirts that showed his lithe form and nipple rings? Yeah. It was all the equivalent of his bat ears, cape and tights.

  Well, tights worked for every disguise. But that wasn’t the point, he reminded himself. It’s just that tights can be so distracting, and Brad — like a playful kitten — could be easily distracted by shiny objects or balls of … well, not yarn. More like balls of Riley.

  Too bad he couldn’t fool himself.

  Brad watched Riley grinding on another slender guy with platinum blond hair and sultry lips on the dance floor of Club Ozone. A guy who wasn’t him. And his heart panged.

  Fucking panged.

  He threw back another shot to drown that feeling ASAP and flashed a grin at the two guys at the table with him.

  He’d come out with his regular circle of friends. For the past few years, he’d met up with Riley, Chris and Harry for a few drinks before they each went out to pick up a man. Then Harry met Bret, his boyfriend of a little more than a year now, and he gave up their regular nights out.

  Tonight, he and his boyfriend were both there, having been guilted to attend, so Brad had to put on a cheerful face. Just one more element of his disguise.

  “You guys ready to get your dance on?”

  Harry looked at Bret, and his boyfriend shrugged. Bret was a real cutie, and he could crack up a whole room at a board game night or house party, but put him around a bunch of sweaty, half-naked men and he went quiet.

  “Maybe in a few,” Harry said with a smile.

  He leaned in and kissed Bret’s cheek. Gag. Who needed that kind of affection, right?

  Pang.

  Brad jumped up. “Okay, party poopers. Catch you on the other side!”

  He stormed onto the dance floor, ready to burn away his sudden onset of melancholy. A good adrenaline rush and an erection rubbing against his ass would take care of him in short order. After all, why should he care that Riley was sexing up his next conquest on the dance floor? That’s what he did. That’s what they both did.

  They agreed years ago that hearts and flowers were not for them. They were friends, wingmen and occasional fuck buddies.

  But that was all.

  Riley was a catch. Of course. Brad didn’t fuck just anybody. Riley was gorgeous, with dark hair that was always falling into his eyes as if he were six years old and dimples that could melt your underwear when they were flashed with precision. He didn’t have much of an exercise routine, but he’d built up muscle from his job on a construction crew and the man knew how to dance to devastating effect. Then there was his style. He was practically Brad’s opposite. Brad knew he came across a bit femme, and he figured you might as well work what you got, right? But Riley dressed in jeans and boots and military jackets. He wore tanks that he shed halfway through the night, and it brought all the fucking boys to his yard.

  Boys like Mr. Blondie humping his leg.

  Fuck it. Just dance.

  Brad caught the eye of a muscled up gym rat. He’d fuck like an animal, and that sounded just like what the doctor ordered. Why bottom unless you were going to feel that dick for days? That was his motto.

  Brad slung an arm around the beefy guy’s neck and flashed a flirty smile he’d practiced dozens of times in front of the mirror and honed to perfection on dozens of men just like this one.

  “Hello, handsome,” he purred.

  Dark eyes met his. “Aren’t you a cute little kitten?”

  “Oh, honey. I’ve got no kitty for you. Only a nice cock and a willing ass.”

  The man grabbed his ass and gave it a hard squeeze. Brad smothered his wince at the bruising force. “It’s a peach, babe. Can’t wait to inspect it more closely.”

  Brad smiled. “Let’s dance then,” he said. “I’ve got to keep this ass in shape.”

  ***

  Riley wasn’t feeling the cocktail of adrenaline and attraction that usually came when he picked up a guy.

  Andy was cute enough, but there was just something about him that bugged Riley. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it. The guy had a decent body, even if it couldn’t hold a candle to Brad’s perfect form. It was tough to compete with an aerobics instructor. Even Riley couldn’t do that. Andy’s blond hair was dyed, with dark roots showing. Generally, Riley wouldn’t consider himself picky about shit like that, but tonight it bothered him. Like seriously? What’s wrong with brown hair? And if you’re gonna have a dye job, do it right or what’s the point anyway?

  Riley rolled his eyes at himself. Maybe he was just off his game tonight. Or maybe Andy looked too much like Brad — and not in a good way. More like a faded copy, not quite as crisp in its detail as the original.

  Plus, the guy kept clinging to him, resisting Riley’s every attempt to find a new partner. That was a bad omen right there.

  “We could take this party to your place,” Andy suggested in a simpering voice he must imagine was sexy. It wasn’t.

  “Nah, man.”

  “My place?”

  “I’m not feeling it tonight,” Riley said. He locked his eyes on Brad, who was happily grinding away with a jacked-up stud. “I think I’m just going to hook up with my boy Brad tonight.”

  Andy’s eyes widened in rage. “Your boy? You have a boyfriend?”

  His voice went up three octaves, and Riley winced. “I didn’t say he was my boyfriend,” he countered. “But we do fuck. Often. Is that a deal-breaker for you?”

  Let it be a deal-breaker.

  Andy huffed. “Sounds like bullshit.”

  “Think what you want.”

  “I think you’re an asshole, and I don’t do cheaters. I’m looking for a nice guy.”

  Riley almost felt sorry for this kid. You didn’t go to a club like Ozone and expect to find love. The drinking, the dancing, the conversation: It was all a flimsy cover, a ritual of sorts you had to go through so you could get laid. Then you moved on to another night, another dance, another guy. There were a few men who were open to relationships, of course. Riley had dashed hopes for more with a couple of guys. But most of them at least knew it was a long shot.

  Andy hadn’t lost his idealism, and Riley didn’t want to be the one to tarnish it. He smiled, keeping his voice friendly.


  “Good for you, Andy. Go get a boyfriend. I’m not the right guy for you.”

  “No shit.”

  Little Andy grew claws. He shot Riley one final glare and stomped off.

  Riley took the opportunity to grab a glass of water. He was sweaty, having yanked off his tank hours ago. He used the material to swipe at his forehead and the hair dripping into his eyes.

  He guzzled his drink, ignoring the looks coming his way. He was prime meat in a place like this, and he knew it. Getting a hook-up was easy. But he wasn’t in the mood to deal with unknowns. He’d spent an hour with Andy, only to realize the kid would be more hurt than pleased by a one-night stand. Riley might not be the commitment type, but he did adhere to the credo of “do no harm.”

  Riley liked to hook up, but he always kept it casual. His only repeat partner was Brad, who knew the score. They’d been casual fuck buddies for three years.

  He glanced around the dance floor until he spotted Brad, plastered up against his big brute of a dance partner. Shit. He’d be afraid to fuck that guy, but Brad hadn’t met a cock he couldn’t handle.

  Damn. If Brad hooked up, he’d be out in the cold. Riley wasn’t in the mood to find another guy to take home. He’d rather go for a sure thing at this point, and he could never go wrong with Brad.

  Riley put down his glass and weaved through the tangle of limbs until he reached his best friend. Dancing up behind him, he placed his hands on Brad’s waist and pressed up against his back.

  “Hey, gorgeous,” he murmured into his ear. “Ditch this loser and take me home with you.”

  Brad tensed for only a moment before he recognized Riley’s voice. He laughed and threw an arm up to wind around Riley’s neck behind him. His ass rubbed against Riley’s cock just right, and his semi firmed up into a full erection.

  Brad’s dance partner didn’t seem too happy with the interruption, but Riley spared him only the one glance. His attention was on wooing away his perfect little bottom.

  “You know you love my cock, Brad,” he said. “I’m a sure thing.”

  “Maybe I want to challenge myself,” Brad said in a teasing voice. He dropped his free hand down to grab at the big guy’s crotch. “This fella is packing some heat.”

  “And I’m not?” Riley growled, thrusting his hips and grinding into Brad’s ass while dropping his lips to nibble the skin just below his ear. That always drove him wild.

  Brad moaned softly, and his dance partner finally had enough.

  “Will you ditch this guy already, Peach? He’s killing my hard-on.”

  He wasn’t into Brad enough if his dick couldn’t withstand a little competition. Riley ignored him, focusing on Brad instead.

  “Come on, babe. Help a guy out.”

  “What happened to your little blond boy?” Brad finally asked.

  “Eh, he was like an imitation of you. Why have him when I can have the real thing?”

  Brad grinned and whirled to face him, throwing both arms around his neck. “That’s right. You better appreciate!”

  The beefy dance partner stalked off with a mutter that sounded something like “Thanks a lot, asshole.”

  Brad didn’t appear to notice, glowing at Riley’s flattery. Riley meant every word, but he did feel a bit guilty for chasing off Brad’s would-be partner. It wasn’t cool to cock-block, but hell, it wasn’t like Brad wouldn’t enjoy a night with Riley. They were always good together.

  He brushed aside his guilty conscience and tugged Brad closer.

  “I plan to appreciate you fully. Every single inch of you. How about we get out of here?”

  ***

  They fell through the door, laughing and kissing, so tangled up they would have fallen if the wall hadn’t caught them. Riley pinned Brad to the wall with his body, kissing him hard.

  “You have too many clothes,” Riley mumbled.

  “You get the door. I’ll get naked.”

  Riley turned to wiggle the key free of the lock and close the apartment door. Behind him, Brad stripped out of his clothes. There weren’t many of them, but they were tight, so he had to work to get them off. Riley snickered as Brad nearly tripped over his underwear, but his laughter cut off when Brad dropped to his knees.

  He blinked up at Riley, widening his eyes to make them appear innocent. Or as innocent as possible. Brad was plenty naughty, and they both knew it.

  “Hell yeah,” Riley muttered, fumbling to yank open his button and get his cock out. Brad almost laughed at how much it turned on Riley. For some reason, he totally got off on having Brad naked at his feet while he was fully clothed. It never failed to turn him into a frantic, horny mess.

  Brad loved it because when Riley was really worked up, he fucked like a crazy man. He had his friend exactly where he wanted him.

  Riley’s cock sprang out, and Brad opened his mouth and leaned forward. He traced the head with the tip of his tongue, then fluttered it along the shaft.

  He didn’t get to play long before Riley gripped his hair and pushed his cock fully into Brad’s mouth with a groan.

  “Your mouth is perfect,” he muttered, staring down at Brad’s lips with dazed eyes.

  His hips thrust, and Brad let him use his mouth for a few minutes before Riley pulled free. “I want to fuck you. You want that?”

  “Is my name Brad?”

  Riley smirked. “Stupid question, huh?”

  Brad shoved him toward the bedroom, and they fell into bed together. It was always so easy with Riley. Everything clicked. There were none of those fumbling, awkward moments with a stranger when he touched you in a less than pleasing way. No big cock shoving into you without proper prep. Riley knew Brad’s body, and Brad knew Riley’s.

  They moved together effortlessly as Riley touched him, kissed him, prepped him and then fucked him.

  It wasn’t slow and loving; it was fast and frenzied. But it was done right. Riley nailed his prostate again and again as he bent Brad facedown over the bed and plowed him. The stretch burned just the right amount, giving a nice edge to the pleasure skating through his nerves. He danced on the edge, closer and closer, as Riley reached around and grabbed his cock.

  “Come with me,” he panted in Brad’s ear, and Brad didn’t need anything more. His body tensed and his cock shot all over Riley’s hand and the sheets. In his ass, he could feel Riley thrusting erratically and coming to a still as he finished.

  They rested there a moment, breathing hard, and a traitorous thought crept in his head and out his mouth before he could stop it.

  “Just lay here with me for a minute?”

  His voice sounded so vulnerable he wanted to smack himself. Riley didn’t seem to notice. He nudged Brad into the bed, so he could roll in after him.

  “Thanks, man. I can hardly move.”

  Brad smiled into his pillow as Riley collapsed next to him.

  “Stay for breakfast if you want,” he murmured as sleep pulled him under.

  If Riley answered, he didn’t hear it.

  Chapter 2

  Brad rolled over in bed, hand slipping across cool bedsheets. That contact — and what it meant — jolted through him. Some recess in his brain woke him with the realization: Riley was long gone. Another fuck and run.

  It’s fine. This is what we do, he reminded himself. It’s not like Kevin at all.

  Kevin was the reason Brad played the field. After his first serious boyfriend broke his heart by fucking around behind his back, he’d made a vow that his cock would come before his heart. Obviously, men couldn’t be trusted. The assholes. So, why should he be any different? As long as he got a few orgasms a week, he was good.

  Great, actually.

  Besides, he and Riley weren’t boyfriends, and they weren’t lovers. They’d both given up on that nonsense years ago.

  For Brad, it was because of the douchebag formerly known as Kevin. For Riley, it had something to do with too many people in his life leaving him. His parents died when he was young, and then his bigoted aunt disowned him when he
came out as a teenager. The dude had serious abandonment issues, but he preferred to believe he enjoyed playing the field. And Brad let him, because it wasn’t like he didn’t have his own baggage. He understood not wanting to delve too deeply into your own psyche.

  After all, Brad was no stranger to fooling himself. He wore the disguise of “cockslut” and “fun-time guy” instead of masked crusader, but it worked most of the time. Sometimes it even worked so well, he forgot the truth himself.

  But this was not one of those times. Mind still muzzy with sleep, he didn’t get his shields up fast enough. A stray thought flitted through his mind.

  Why can’t I be good enough for more than a fuck?

  He tried to push the thought away, but it resurfaced again and again as he lay there sleepless for God knows how long. Probably only minutes, but it sure as fuck felt like hours. His thoughts circled in his head, getting darker by the minute.

  Words like unlovable and unworthy surfaced, and he struggled to push them away. Usually, when his thoughts went dark, he drank harder, danced harder and fucked harder. But alone in his bed in the middle of the night, his usual vices weren’t handy.

  He squeezed his eyes tight and pressed his lips together to quell their trembling.

  He wanted to kick himself for how easily he’d let Riley drag him away from his dance partner and into bed yet again. When they went out, sometimes they ended up with other partners. Sometimes they ended up together. But it was always, always about what Riley wanted. At some point, Brad had just become the cow providing free milk when Riley got lazy. He was his Plan B when he didn’t find a new guy he wanted to jump.

  A consolation prize.

  Woo-fucking-hoo. Why are you letting Riley use you?

  He fell asleep at last with that new thought circling in his head.

  ***

  Riley felt great when he woke up the next day. His body was lax with the satisfaction that came from a night of good fucking. His morning wood was present but less insistent than normal. Brad was probably feeling him today after the forceful fuck, but Riley didn’t feel guilty. His friend had once confessed he loved the ache that lingered the day after a hard round of sex. Riley had been more than happy to deliver ever since.