The COMPLETE Coventon Campus Series: Books I, II, & III

by Wright, Kenya

  “What made you turn to sausages?” The dreadlocked stud glanced at me with curiosity.

  Why is he at my studio bothering me?

  “Why sausages?” I repeated. “I craved things that no one could take care of.”

  “And the sausages did the job?”

  “It's not like the sausages didn't want it in the first place.”

  He laughed. “You’re a funny man.”

  “People say that a lot.”

  “Tell me what you did with them.”

  “Excuse me.”

  “Tell me.” He shrugged.

  Fine. You asked for it, buddy.

  I pretended to hold a microphone in front of my face. With a serious expression, I lowered my voice into a somber tone as if I was a newsperson reporting on a serious topic. “Horny and burning hot with lust, Little Pipe put long links of polish sausages into condoms.”

  He laughed and clapped his hands.

  Going on with the act, I continued, “This depraved boy tried to see if he could capture that taunting sensation that all of the Yaoi talked about.”

  “Yaoi?”

  “Lovely Japanese manga and books full of male-male sex.”

  “Was it fun to read?”

  “Hey, you’re ruining my flashback impersonation.” I shifted my voice back to the newscaster’s tone. “Blame it on the Yaoi, chapters and chapters of cocks thrusting and bodies igniting. Don’t blame Little Pipe, frown at the book world and hot movies with full frontal male nudity. The little guy just hoped to get some action.”

  “Poor Little Pipe.” He clapped some more.

  “Yeah.” I dropped the act. “Poor Little Pipe.”

  Instead of the color around him blackening, it lightened.

  I should look up the different shades of blue. Maybe I’ll find a good website that doesn’t have a bunch of bullshit on it.

  He leaned against my doorway. “I never did sausages like you, but I get it.”

  “How do you get it?” I asked.

  “Don't we all relish in the feel of skin upon skin, succulent attention to one's flesh until they shiver and scream our name? Don’t we all crave the touch of another and imagine all of the possibilities? The sausage was practice. I bet you’re good.”

  I swallowed in nervousness.

  Why am I anxious?

  “It sounds like you started the journey before us all,” he finished. “You were on the path to find your passions.”

  “Maybe.” I shifted a little. “Anyway, due to my activities, I can’t eat sausages anymore. Never saw them the same way again.”

  Evie is right. I do make shit harder than it needs to be. Why didn’t I just say no, I don’t like sausages? Instead, I confessed to letting a sausage fuck me.

  Silence filled the space between us for a whole minute. It was like we both went back to our childhoods in our head.

  What am I even doing right now? You’re high, man. Shut up and close the door.

  “I bet a conversation like this for you isn’t even a big deal,” my dreadlocked stranger said. “I bet you have these weird talks all the time. I bet you’re a social king. I bet you’re fun.”

  “And I think you’re a betting man.”

  His smile formed into a straight line, and his eyes returned to that odd gaze. “What happened to your face? Those scars look fresh.”

  Purple. I wish all people had a safe word that they respected. When someone didn’t want to talk about something, they could just yell the word and all discussion would cease.

  A cold shiver sliced up my spine. Tension built in my shoulders. My fingers shook a little against the door’s frame. Green eyes studied them and frowned.

  “Who did that?” he asked. “They look new.”

  “Have a nice day.” I stepped back and tried to close the door on him and his glow.

  He blocked it with his foot. “Hey. I’m sorry.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “Seriously, I’m sorry.” Raising his arms, he stepped back. The bag dangled in his hands. “I was just wondering that’s all.”

  “Cool.” I nodded. “I don’t want any sausages. See you later.”

  “Eh!” He yelled as I got ready to close the door.

  I paused. “What?”

  “I see that you burn. I can smell it over here.”

  “Burn?”

  He pinched his fingers and brought them to his lips as if he held an imaginary joint. “Smoke.”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  His voice returned to that seductive tone. “Feel free to burn with me anytime.”

  Something about the way he said that made my skin prickle, and I couldn’t figure out if it was a good or bad thing. I hated guys like this, the ones who no one could get a good read on. Was he gay or not? Was he flirting or was this all innocent in his mind?

  There should be a gay glow. Maybe something with polka dots. Something fun.

  “Have a good day, Sausage Man.” I bowed my hooded head and tried, yet again, to close the door.

  He wouldn’t refuse his foot from blocking the door. “What if I told you that you made me laugh, and because of that I don’t want to end this conversation?”

  “Have a good day.”

  He winked at me. “What if I told you, I’m not going to leave?”

  I gestured to his foot. “Move please.”

  “No. What if I told you—?”

  “What if I told you that there are papers to solve this problem? They’re called restraining orders and death wishes, get-the-fuck-out-of-my-way notes and the US Constitution?”

  “Constitution protects a lot of things—freedom of speech, right to bear arms, and religious beliefs. It doesn’t protect the right for you to not deal with an intruding asshole.”

  As if his aura relished in the conversation, the green brightened even more.

  I hate creatives. They’re always so close to madness.

  I tugged at the hood to shield me some more. “At least you admit you’re an asshole.”

  “What do you do, Little Pipe?”

  “I live. That’s my occupation.”

  “That’s it.” He swung the bag around. “All you do is live?”

  “Yeah.” I gestured to the scars on my skin. “At least I’m trying.”

  “I got scars too.”

  “Yeah?”

  “They’re all on my legs.”

  “Great.” I clapped for him. “Maybe we can have a damaged party.”

  “Yeah.” He smirked. “I’ll bring the sausages.”

  “And I’ll bring the music.”

  He scrunched his face up for a second and then laughed. “Oh. You’re talking about me playing that song over and over?”

  “Yeah.”

  He traced his finger in the wind. “I was mental painting.”

  “I heard.”

  He grinned. “I figured you heard. That’s why I brought the sausages over. I’m used to not having a neighbor. The place is usually empty. After Saka left, I cursed, realizing you were next door and that I probably woke you up with the music and arguing.”

  Saka must be the girl’s name.

  “No,” I said. “I was already up.”

  “The sausages were my sorry gift.”

  “Next time, try a shot of wheatgrass.” I gestured to his garden. “Is your girlfriend, Saka, the one that did the garden?”

  “No and no.” He chuckled and stepped back.

  “No and no?” I twisted my bruised lips into confusion. A little pain touched my mouth. “I only asked one question.”

  He stopped in front of his door and winked. “No, she’s not my girlfriend, and no she doesn’t take care of my garden. So, no to sausages, but yes to wheatgrass. You’ll get your shot in ten minutes. Let me put this stuff up.”

  He disappeared into his studio.

  “Take your time,” I called back and shut the door. “I have to take a shower.”

  “Cool. Take one and come over. I’ll be ready.

  Come o
ver? Why does that make me so nervous? The very idea. Come over? His color is too bright and too big. It drowns me. He’s seen some shit.

  My heart boomed into my chest. Anxiety prickled along my flesh. I wasn’t used to this sensation, fear. I never used to walk around scared. No one ever really fucked with me. And when they did, I came back at them hard. Wrestling with Jay and Evie all my life made me harder than most. I kept my body in shape, made sure I ran every day, maintained the muscle to latch back with power, if necessary.

  I did all of that, and let a psycho tie me up, cut my skin, and leave me hanging to bleed all over the fucking floor. He didn’t even have his nurse come by afterward, a clear sign of how much he was done with me. He wanted me to know that he didn’t care if I lived or died.

  The neighbor turned back on that song, and those sad little lyrics filled the air.

  “We no love tonight.”

  I breathed in and out to calm myself.

  Just grab the wheatgrass and get back into the studio. He’s not going to hurt me. He’s not trying to hurt me. He just wants to give me the damn sorry gift. Don’t I deserve a present? I am awesome after all. Am I? Yes. Yes.

  I shook my head and returned to my studio. The door closed behind me. The song’s drumming rocked through the apartment, almost making the walls seem to bop in and out. I rocked with it as I took off my pants and thought of those teenage years I’d confessed to a complete stranger.

  Why did I tell him that? I say shit off the handle, but not like that and so early. I knew better. Feed them in spoonfuls. They can never take the whole entrée right away.

  During my high school years, I really did do bad things to sausages. Sure, I would’ve been happy to have the real thing—anybody on some nights—man or boy, postman or family mechanic. I dreamed about fucking my friends’ hot fathers sometimes. Guilt would always hit me after I spilled semen all over the floor after many nasty mind journeys.

  My friend, Chet, had a dad who coached high school. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Hard muscle wrapped around his waist. I’d never seen him without a smile on his face. He did right by his family—opened doors, rushed home as much as he could for weekday dinners, and volunteered for neighborhood watch.

  I ached around him.

  He’d slap my shoulder or hug me when I came to his house. My cock would go rock hard, and I’d be forced to run up to Chet’s bathroom to wait for it to go down. Once, I’d stood in that tiny space, poured some of Chet’s mother’s rose lotion on my cock, and stroked up and down with a furious hunger, imagining Chet’s dad walking in on me with hunger in his eyes.

  Even back then I was a sicko.

  Chet’s dad thought I had a bladder problem because I was always in his bathroom so much.

  Nasty Little Pipe.

  Back in the studio, my phone rang. I checked the screen. Another call came from Jay. I was sure he knew something was wrong by now, but I’d just have to hear his shit later. My boy hoped I would stick to the normal side of love. Sleep with regular men who enjoyed more acceptable things. Jay stayed blind to the true me while Evie marveled.

  Is it not obvious, Jay, that I’m too weird for a normal guy?

  My reflection stared back at me in the cracked mirrors all around the room.

  How the hell did that guy, Kush, sit there and talk to me for so long? I look like I just had a knife fight with the King of Sharp Objects. Kush must be crazier than me.

  I took off my jacket. Slashes covered my chest, twisting the lush view of my muscle, making me appear harder than I really was. Making me look damaged.

  I would be lucky if a normal guy wanted to stand next to me. Who would want this? And even if they did, could I even be alone with another man in the bedroom? No. Never.

  In the mirror, my reflection’s aura darkened. What was once purple now shifted to a gloomy shade.

  Chapter Nine

  Evie

  It was mid-afternoon in Miami, and my throat burned raw as I screamed for the hundredth time.

  “Pipe!” No response came. Pipe’s hotel suite was empty. “Pipe!”

  “Evie, I’m sure he would’ve heard you the first thousand times.” Jay slammed the guest bathroom door and stomped into the kitchen. “Have you tried calling him again on the phone?”

  “Of course. What do you think?”

  We hadn’t eaten or slept since touching down. Then there was that uneasy sexual tension that blurred everything around us.

  “Maybe we should stay here,” I suggested. “He might come back.”

  “No. I can’t.”

  Pipe’s suite symbolized luxury. Polished this and high-end that. Someone had cleaned the place and maintained everything while he was missing, but a faint stain of blood decorated the carpet. Neither Jay nor I mentioned it. The circle of red expanded too far out for me to deal with. A path of pink dots trailed the carpet all the way to the kitchen and ended at the mopped floor. So many scenarios spun in my head. Had the bastard cut Pipe and then gone to clean the knife? Is that where the trail had come from?

  I glanced uneasily at the circle again. With that amount, Pipe must’ve bled for a long time. And with that fact, I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t just get over it within seconds. If I’d found him like that, I would’ve choked. Gasped for oxygen. Fallen down and beat the ground.

  Pipe didn’t deserve torture or pain. He’d earned love just from him being himself. Any time I called him in tears, he wiped them away with a few words. He inspired the sun, lured it out of the darkness of space and beckoned the fiery planet to come further.

  Pipe was love and fun and enjoyment in life. Pipe was not a pool of blood, a dripping body dangling alone in the darkness of his own suite.

  “Pipe!” I screamed.

  “Evie, he isn’t here.” A scowl replaced Jay’s lusty expression. He’d been in such a great mood at the end of the flight. After licking me until orgasm on the plane, his ego had inflated. He smelled himself and realized that his shit actually didn’t stink. It didn’t help that I screamed his name when he sucked on my clit. In the shadows of the plane, I had come with staccato groans.

  The stewardess had showed up, probably thinking one of us were in pain. Jay had hurried back to his seat, banging his leg and almost entangling my limbs. I had rushed to place a jacket over my stretched-to-the-side shorts.

  We confirmed that everything was fine, and the stewardess left.

  And regret sank deep in my heart.

  And Jay’s face broke out in a wicked smile.

  “We can’t do that again,” I whispered.

  “No.” Jay raised his wrist and did a show of checking his watch. “We’ll be landing soon.”

  “You know what I’m saying. Don’t do that again.”

  “What?”

  “Eat me,” I said.

  “That’s what I did?”

  “Don’t play with me.”

  “Why not?” He gripped his jeans. I checked his hand further. His length pushed up against the denim. Although I’d come, my body pulsed with desire. When it came to sex, I had an addiction to pleasing him.

  I could suck him all day, slob and lap at the softness of his balls. He’d buck my way, and I’d pull back until he surrendered. I enjoyed owning him, controlling the rhythms of his body. His dick hummed a song anytime my mouth came close, and I met the rocking with my own crystal.

  He inhaled. “Evie?”

  “No.”

  “You don’t know what I’m going to say?”

  “You’re holding your dick. I have a good idea.”

  “I wouldn’t ask for that.”

  “But you don’t mind giving it?”

  “You want some more?”

  “No, Jay.”

  He moved his hand along the thick line of hard cock. With his other hand, he tasted his wet fingers.

  My body warmed. “Don’t do that.”

  “It’s you on my fingers.”

  “I know.”

  “Move the blanket,” he begged.


  My breathing thickened. “Jay, stop.”

  “What am I doing?”

  “Making me hot.”

  “And that’s a bad thing?”

  “Yes.”

  “I like hearing you moan,” he said.

  “Well then, good. You got that. I already came.”

  “Let me make you come again.”

  “No.”

  “Please.”

  “No.” Shuddering, I turned in my seat and stared out of the window. The sky lay black. Puffy clouds glowed below. A red light blinked on the plane’s wing.

  There was no ruler in the world that could measure my horniness. I’d just had a teeth-chattering orgasm up in the sky. Maybe the air pressure added to the intensity. Perhaps, due to my lack of sexual activities, I’d just needed to get orally laid. It didn’t matter. My ears rang. Flesh plumped between my moist thighs, and I still yearned for more.

  Jay leaned his hard body against me and brushed his lips against my ear. I trembled.

  “There’s just something about you that makes me lose my mind.” He traced the curve of my ear with his tongue.

  I arched into him. “Jay, we shouldn’t do this.”

  “But you want to?”

  “Yes.”

  “How bad do you want me inside of you?”

  I refused to answer. He already had me undone. My breasts grew heavy in my bra. I wouldn’t have minded him releasing them, probing along the sensitive tops of my nipples, and flicking his tongue on each one.

  Counting to a hundred, I hugged myself and closed my eyes. This was why I stayed away from him. He called to all of my senses. Around him, I stumbled and went blind.

  And then he’d be back to taking advantage of my love.

  “I’m going to sleep,” I muttered.

  “What did I say?”

  “Wake me up when we land, please.”

  “Evie?” he whispered. “We land in a few minutes.”

  I gritted my teeth. A soft chuckle sounded behind me.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You want me just as bad as I want you. Don’t you?”

  “Leave me alone.”

  The rest of the trip fell into silence. Once we got to Miami, I checked his face. His ego replaced Jay’s signature expression. He resembled the devil—all knowing eyes and a clever gaze, a wicked smirk, and deception within the haze of lust.