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Straight Roommate

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by Mandy Harbin




  Straight Roommate

  Copyright © November 2013, Mandy Harbin

  Cover art by JTLW Design © November 2013

  Stock Photography from Fotolia

  Published by Penning Princess Publishing at Smashwords

  Penning Princess Publishing

  Maumelle, AR 72113

  www.penningprincess.com

  ISBN: 978-0-9882130-9-8

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including but not limited to printing, file sharing, and e-mail, without prior written permission from Penning Princess Publishing or Mandy Harbin.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Slick Competition - Chapter One

  Slick Competition - Chapter Two

  Slick Competition - Chapter Three

  Dedication

  To my non-straight roommates.

  Chapter One

  “You want me to what?” Mitchell gaped at his roommate, Landon, certain he hadn’t heard correctly. His brain was mush from all the studying he’d been doing the last two weeks preparing for his chemistry midterm exam. He couldn’t afford to fail it, so things like sleeping and eating had taken a backseat to his goal. Now his brain was unable to process words, make out sentences. No way did he hear what he thought he just heard.

  Landon chuckled as he stumbled into the room, obviously enjoying the aftereffects of the frat party. He smiled as he made his way to his side of the room, shucking his jacket and kicking off his shoes while he walked. Mitchell turned back to his laptop and the small sample he was testing. His heart was racing and he couldn’t make out the words before him, but at least he wasn’t making eye contact with his too-hot roommate, hearing erroneous things coming out of his supple mouth.

  Mitchell jumped in his seat when he felt Landon’s hands on his shoulders. How the hell did Landon get so close to him, and he not know it? He watched, frozen, as Landon leaned over him to pick up the sample he’d been trying to test.

  “This it?” he asked softly.

  Mitchell swallowed, his nod jerky. He wanted to reach out and take his sample back, but he couldn’t move. He didn’t make it a practice to let other people handle it. It was his, dammit. But his lack of nutrition and shuteye of late had rendered him incapacitated. Yeah, that was it.

  Landon gave Mitchell’s chair a gentle push, turning him around to face the other man. Only with him sitting, they weren’t exactly eye-level. Oh no, now Mitchell was staring straight at Landon’s crotch.

  And his obvious erection.

  Mitchell bit his lip to keep from moaning—been a long time since he’d seen another man’s hard cock—and forced his gaze upward, ignoring his own growing penis.

  The basketball star reached out and almost touched his cheek before Mitchell’s wits came back. He grabbed the hand right before it made contact and glared at the guy staring down at him.

  “You’re drunk.” He tossed his hand away and stood so quickly he almost winced at how hard his dick had gotten. He stepped around Landon and struggled for breath.

  “And horny.”

  So much for breathing. The air was totally gone from the room now. Mitchell turned slowly. “You should go find Alex, then.”

  Landon chuckled, but there was no humor in it. “You know we broke up.” He took a step toward Mitchell, who wanted to flee but didn’t want to show any weakness…no matter how exhausted he’d been right up until Landon had walked in. “Think of it as us helping each other out.” He smiled, and Mitchell’s traitorous dick twitched.

  “I don’t need your help.”

  Landon lifted the sample in his hand and sniffed it. “You sure about that? You’ve been working on your super-secret personal lube for years. Maybe it’s time for human trials.” He winked.

  Mitchell ignored the fact that Landon held his personally formulated lubricant. Knowing he wasn’t pissed the sample was in someone else’s hands proved how flustered he was. Under other circumstances he’d be freaking out because he’d fear the person holding it hostage would either steal it or make fun of him because of it. He’d worked for years creating his lube, and he still hadn’t gotten the formula right. He didn’t know why something that had really started out as a means to save money while practicing his love of chemistry had turned out to be an obsession, but it had. Whenever he’d had free time, he’d worked on it…and loved conducting his own tests, which usually happened on a Friday night with his favorite Internet porn site. He reluctantly told his roommate about it one such Friday night when he’d come home early and caught Mitchell in the middle of testing his latest batch.

  Landon had joked it was a great way to save money on condoms. But now his roommate wasn’t thinking clearly. Mitchell knew it. Landon had never propositioned him in the two years they’d been roommates or the three years they’d known each other. Why? One glaring reason stood above all the others.

  “Did you forget you’re as straight as an arrow?” He shifted and propped his hand on his hip, feigning a relaxed stance. “Or are you so heartbroken over Alex that you’ve sworn off all women after being with her?”

  Landon’s eyes darkened briefly, but before Mitchell could read him, he clutched his belt. Mitchell’s gaze shot down and he watched helplessly as he slowly unfastened it. He forced his eyes to shut as his dick throbbed in his jeans. Landon was a fucking sex god. Mitchell knew it. He’d heard all about his conquests, an unfortunate benefit to sharing a room with the guy. But he was a breeder. Straight up.

  “Nope. She was too needy.” The zipper being released rent the air. Mitchell’s heart hammered in his chest. Then Landon shoved his hand inside the opening and rubbed himself, and what little blood Mitchell had left circulating rushed to fill his cock to bursting. “But not in the right area. Know what I’m saying, man?”

  Mitchell fought the urge to tackle him and swallow his dick until he roared Mitchell’s name. If he didn’t know Landon better, he’d think the guy was playing him. Why else would a straight guy come on to him? “Fuck,” he breathed when he saw the tip of Landon’s dick picking out of his boxer briefs.

  “No. Not that.” He forced his gaze back up to Landon’s. The guy took a few steps back and sat on his bed. He pushed his underwear down until his dick was completely free and wrapped his hand around it.

  Mitchell’s knees almost gave out.

  Landon poured some of the contents onto his cockhead and groaned. Mitchell moved, his legs working of their own volition. Landon stroked his dick, and Mitchell stopped, knowing if he got close enough to touch Landon, he’d push the man back and take over.

  “No sex. Just a hand job.” Landon said, groaning as he stroked his dick. “Shit, man, this stuff feels good.” He squeezed his dick and looked at Mitchell. “Come here.”

  His mouth dried. He shook his head just barely, his logical side marginally winning the internal battle with his groin.

  “Now, Mitchell.” The command was incredibly seductive…and so not helping Mitchell’s resolve.

  “If I come over there and do anything, you’re gonna kick my ass when you sober up.”

  Landon licked his lips and stroked his cock again. “Don’t you wanna feel your lube on another test subject?”

  Hell yes, he did, but he wasn’t stupid enough to say that.

  “I know you do, Mitchell. Now come here.”

  “Landon, I don’t think—”

  “Please,” Landon whispered, the plea even sexier than the demand. Mitchell took the last remaining steps to the bed. Landon grabbed his hand and pulled him down beside him. This was fucking madness, but he was too caught up to say that out loud.

  The blond
guy stared at him while he slowly replaced the hand circling his dick with Mitchell’s, who didn’t dare look down.

  “Haven’t you ever wanted to touch a straight guy before?” Landon wrapped his hand around Mitchell’s and forced him to stroke.

  “Jesus, Landon.” Mitchell looked down and pushed the hand off his. He was going to let go, but when Landon thrust his cock into his hand, Mitchell gripped him instead. It was reflex, an instinct, to seize the hard cock of a hot, willing man. He wasn’t strong enough to deny what was so ingrained in him. He took a deep breath. “Every gay guy fantasizes about showing a straight man how good they are in bed.” He moved his hand from the base of Landon’s dick to the head. “It’s only fucking natural,” he spat.

  “Holy shit, your hand’s rough. That feels…that feels…ugh.” His head fell back on his shoulders in a bid of surrender, his hips lifting to fuck Mitchell’s hand.

  His resolve shattered. He tightened his grip and twisted as he stroked him in earnest. “You like that?”

  “Mmm-hmm. So this is a fantasy of yours?” he panted.

  Mitchell shouldn’t answer that question. He knew he shouldn’t, but his sexual urges were controlling him now. “Not exactly. Mine is to suck a straight guy off. I love to swallow.”

  Landon groaned as he shook his head. “Hand only.”

  Mitchell figured he’d respond that way. He reasoned it was easier for a straight guy to ask for a hand job because it was something a guy could do to himself. No man could give himself a blowjob unless he was freakishly flexible. If he only did to Landon what the man could do while alone, then maybe that made it okay in his eyes. Not that Mitchell knew from personal experience or even through stories from his friends. Oh no, this was probably the closest he’d ever get to being physical with a breeder. A hot-as-fuck breeder. A shiver ran down his spine, straight to his balls, and he stroked a little faster, punishing him for turning him on like this, trying to ignore his own aching dick.

  “Christ, man, that feels fucking good,” Landon ground out. His head lolled to the side and he opened his eyes. “Faster.”

  “No. You want me to do it, I’m gonna do it my way.” If he did it any faster, Landon wouldn’t last ten seconds. Now that Mitchell had knocked over his good intentions, he was in no hurry to end what was happening between them.

  Landon licked his lips, and Mitchell had to shift to alleviate some of the discomfort in his hard-on at the sight of that tongue. Christ, the man wasn’t even trying to be sexy, and still temptation just oozed out of him. No wonder those dimwitted broads fell all over themselves to get a piece of him. If Mitchell were a chick, he’d lift up his skirt and beg the guy to take him. Only he’d still want it up the ass.

  Shit, he couldn’t think like that. As soon as the guy blew, he’d have to rush into the bathroom and take care of his own sexual need, and at this rate, he’d be lucky to make it out of this without coming in his jeans.

  “Unzip your pants.”

  Mitchell’s gaze shot to his. “Why?” he asked, but didn’t stop moving his hand up and down Landon’s rod.

  He bit his lip as he rocked his hips. “I want to watch you jack off.”

  Sweat broke out on his brow. He started to protest, but his dick furiously overruled the words on his lips. Instead, he fumbled with the button and zipper on his jeans before Landon could change his mind, but he watched his eyes to make sure he was still on board with the idea while he continued to stroke him. The next groan was Mitchell’s. He couldn’t keep it inside once his cock was finally free.

  “Here,” Landon mumbled, lifting up the cup containing the lube. Mitchell shot his hand out, and Landon poured the rest into his palm.

  Mitchell shifted into a more comfortable position to able to stroke Landon while he pleasured himself. Thankfully, he was used to masturbating left-handed because he needed his right hand to control the mouse when he watched porn online. The sigh that escaped his lips when he grabbed his needy cock turned into low, groaning oath.

  “Damn, I shouldn’t like the way that sounded,” Landon said, moaning.

  “Normal…to be turned on…by sexual noises.” Mitchell was almost past the point of making complete sentences. He was living the closest thing to his darkest fantasy, and every nerve in his body was on fire, relishing it. He wasn’t going to last. He wanted to stroke Landon’s balls, tease his hole, feel him everywhere, but even if it were an option, he couldn’t do it right now. He was too engrossed in the jerky movements of Landon’s body, the sounds spilling from his mouth, the sight of his pinched face. Holy fuck, he was going to blow.

  “You wanna come?” Mitchell asked, jerking them both faster, harder.

  “Hell, yeah. Just like that. Oh god.” His body went rigid, and Mitchell felt the dick in his hand jerk just before the first stream shot out. Landon shouted, and Mitchell had to bite his own lip to keep from trying to catch the rope of cum squirting out. He hadn’t been lying. He loved to give head, but even tasting Landon’s essence might wig the man out. It was a line Mitchell couldn’t cross, no matter how much he wanted it in his mouth. But just thinking of tasting him like that sent Mitchell over the edge. His sac drew up tight and fast before he could stop the inevitable. His eyes rolled back, and he roared out his own release right behind Landon.

  Time stalled as they both panted, and Mitchell wasn’t sure how long it took him to come back to reality. He was sitting on Landon’s bed with his hand around his semi-hard dick, slick with his spent passion and the lube that had been the excuse to start it all. His fingers didn’t want to unfurl, but he managed to release Landon’s shaft and stood without looking at him. His roommate hadn’t said anything, and in the aftermath of what had just happened, Mitchell didn’t want to push him too soon. Instead, he walked to the bathroom and washed up. He took a few deep breaths as he tucked himself back into his jeans and zipped up. It felt as if he’d been living inside a dream, one that had both euphoric and frightening consequences—a confusing, beautiful nightmare. He briefly wondered how long he could hideout in the bathroom reeling in the afterglow while dreading what he knew was to come. He sucked in another lungful of air as he steeled himself to face his roommate. Regardless of the man’s state of mine, there was no going back.

  Mitchell pushed opened the door and saw Landon still slumped on his bed where he’d relaxed with his release. He forced his shoulders to relax before he walked toward him. Landon breathed heavily, and Mitchell swallowed, not sure if the other man was containing his emotions—hopefully not rage. Mitchell really didn’t want a trip to the E.R. He’d warned Landon this was a line he didn’t want to cross, but under the haze of alcohol, the man couldn’t see reason.

  An odd sound escaped Landon’s lips, and Mitchell frowned as he neared him. It wasn’t just any noise. It was a snore.

  The man was asleep, his now limp dick still splayed out and wet. Mitchell sighed, knowing he’d have to clean him up and tuck him in…in both his pants and his bed. But he finally relaxed, knowing he’d been granted a stay of execution. He didn’t have to worry about the dreaded after conversation. But his reprieve would only last so long.

  Morning would be here soon enough. And there’d be no haze of liquor clouding Landon’s judgment.

  Or his reflexes.

  Chapter Two

  Mitchell had hardly slept last night. It hadn’t just been the knowledge that his roommate was the stereotypical heterosexual male who would probably wake up in the middle of the night and castrate him in his sleep. Oh no, the fear had been easy to understand. It was the damn desire coursing through his veins, keeping his own cock stiff and aching all night, that had really made sleeping unattainable. He couldn’t stop remembering how hard Landon’s dick had been, the sounds he’d made when Mitchell had gotten him off.

  When Mitchell had finally decided to give up on getting any decent shut-eye, he got up as quietly as he could, grabbed some clothes and quickly changed before slipping out. He wasn’t being a coward. He knew he had to face Landon
, but nobody said he had to face the man unprepared. The guy would wake up with a killer hangover and want something to eat. Maybe if Mitchell distracted him with greasy food and coffee, he’d go easy on him.

  It was a weak plan, but the only idea he’d been able to devise with his sleep-deprived brain. It was either get Landon food or make a run for it.

  He headed for the café on campus. The coffee wasn’t as good as Starbucks, but they were known for their omelets, not their espresso. He ordered Landon’s just how he liked it—with everything—and two coffees. Unfortunately, his order was ready way too soon. Hell, even after he grabbed the bag and drink holder, he looked around the barren room, searching for something, anything, to delay him just a little bit longer. He sighed, defeated, and walked out. He was back to the room within minutes. Maybe Landon was still asleep and Mitchell wouldn’t have to interact with him just yet. When he opened the door and stepped inside, that hope died a swift death.

  “Good morning,” Mitchell said hesitantly.

  Landon groaned in response as he sat on the edge of his bed, his elbows on his knees, head in his hands.

  Mitchell gently closed the door behind him. He’d considered locking it, but decided against that in case he needed to make a quick getaway. He moved toward Landon.

  “Got you some breakfast.” His head shot up, and Mitchell suppressed a wince at how bloodshot his roommate’s eyes were. “Figured you’d need it.”

  Landon reached out, and Mitchell walked over and handed him the sack. Then he turned to the side where their makeshift kitchen was and grabbed a bottle of water out of the dorm fridge and some aspirin off the counter, burning his nervous energy.

  “Here.” He handed over the water and pills before retreating to his side of the room. Landon guzzled the drink and downed the meds before pulling out his breakfast.

 

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