Out of this World (Browerton University Book 5)

by A. J. Truman

  Back in the kitchen, he found Rafe sitting up, fully dressed.

  “Just in case,” Rafe said. “I didn’t want to be caught alone with my pants down.”

  “Like this?” And Eamonn dropped his pants to his ankles, his cock shooting straight forward, aimed at Rafe. Rafe’s mouth seemed to water at the sight.

  Rafe lay back on the table, and in the speed of sound, his pants were at his ankles, and his ankles were at his ears. Eamonn gave his ass one more lick before slathering on lube. He sheathed his cock in the rubber.

  “Yes,” Rafe whispered out in a choked voice.

  “I haven’t even entered you yet.”

  “Fuck,” Rafe said once Eamonn did. Eamonn would never get enough of that warm opening.

  “Fuck, your arse feels so good. I can’t wait to pound the fuck out of it.”

  So maybe he couldn’t totally lay off the dirty talk. Eamonn pulled Rafe’s thighs close, slamming his thick cock all the way inside that pink hole.

  “Do you want me to go slow?”

  “No. Swinging door.”

  Eamonn complied. At first, he went a little slow until he felt Rafe unclench and get use to his cock opening him up. He pumped his meat into that opening and shook the kitchen table. He didn’t care. He squeezed Rafe’s nipples as he pummeled his arse. He could feel Rafe tightening around him.

  He kept an eye on the swinging door, but what was the worst that could happen? One of his flatmates would see his bum for a second and shut the door? Eamonn mooned them as a first year, so it was nothing they’d never seen before. They would know that he and Rafe were shagging? No surprise there. He and Rafe were locked into a moment, and they weren’t going to stop until they were spent.

  Eamonn spread Rafe’s ass wide with his hands and shoved his cock in deeper, down to his balls. God, this feels so fucking good. And watching Rafe lose it without saying a word was the cherry on top. He began jerking off Rafe, his cock hard as a fucking torch. Rafe couldn’t stay still. He was a fish out of water, flopping around on dry land. Eamonn whipped his hand up and down on his shaft until his knuckles were red, as he continued slamming into that wet ass. Rafe held onto the edges of the dining table. His ass practically strangled Eamonn’s cock, and it sent Eamonn over the edge. Rafe didn’t have to say a word.

  “Come for me, Rafe,” Eamonn said in a husky whisper, one that was all bass.

  Rafe fucked his hand once, twice. White streaks shot across his stomach and chest, just as Eamonn filled his rubber with hot come.

  Silence continued. Eamonn didn’t want to tarnish this moment with chitchat. They didn’t say a word as they got themselves decent. They didn’t say a word when Rafe followed him into his bedroom. They didn’t say a word when they stepped into the shower together and soaped each other down. Their chests slid against each other’s, and their cocks hardened into swordfighting position. But there was no round two of sex. Rafe’s cheek was still sore and in no shape for kissing. So they held each other as water rained down, and Eamonn felt Rafe’s heartbeat echo in his chest. Rafe tilted his head up and his question punctured the beautiful silence.

  “What if I stayed?”

  Chapter 23

  RAFE

  Rafe ignored his parents calling the next morning. Instead, he continued luxuriating in Eamonn’s arms.

  It had been a long night. After their shower, they laid in bed and talked about Rafe’s blurted out question. It had been on his tongue for a while. First, it was just a “wouldn’t it be nice if…” thought, but as his relationship with Eamonn became more serious, he realized he wasn’t ready to leave. He had just found his groove in England.

  “I know I can’t stay here forever, but what if I tried to extend my study abroad trip for the rest of the year?” he had asked once they toweled off and got into bed.

  “Would your school allow that?”

  “I don’t know yet. But it might be worth checking out?” Rafe phrased it as a question to gauge Eamonn’s interest. He worried that he was scaring Eamonn away. He had a bad habit of coming on too strong back at Browerton with his grand romantic gesture ploys.

  “You would really do that? Give up a whole year at your university to stay here?”

  “I wouldn’t stay here for you,” Rafe added. He wouldn’t put that pressure on Eamonn. “I haven’t done any traveling around Europe, and there are internships I could do here. Maybe I could work at the Stonehenge museum. And I just love being in a foreign country. I’m still taking in the culture.”

  “And there’s the legal drinking age benefit.”

  “That, too.” Rafe studied Eamonn, trying to parse out if he was being nice, or if he wanted any part of this. “I know this came out unexpectedly, and it seems a little drastic. Please be honest with me, Eamonn, if you think this is a bad idea. I won’t be offended. Maybe I’ve interrupted your life enough.”

  Eamonn kissed him. Rafe held back a wince of pain for his face.

  “You haven’t interrupted anything. These two months have been some of the greatest of my life.”

  Rafe was powerless against a statement like that. Eamonn’s eyes beamed at him. He traced a finger over Rafe’s eyebrow. But still, Eamonn hadn’t explicitly said he wanted Rafe to stay. Rafe ignored that minor observation and began doing research on Eamonn’s computer while Eamonn went to the bathroom. Browerton had an eight-point checklist for students thinking of extending their study abroad trip. That made him feel less insane. Obviously they wouldn’t have this checklist ready if other kids hadn’t extended their trips, and surely a percentage of those who extended did so for romantic reasons, statistically speaking. Rafe climbed back into bed just as Eamonn opened his bathroom door. They resumed their cuddling position.

  Rafe’s buzzing phone cut through the morning peace of laying in Eamonn’s arms. His parents kept calling. He couldn’t ignore them. They were number six on the checklist: Get approval from parent/guardian.

  Eamonn didn’t let him go so easily. His strong arms were like safety bars on an amusement park ride that wouldn’t budge until the ride came to a complete stop.

  “Tell them hello for me,” Eamonn mumbled with a spritely morning wood poking into Rafe.

  When they kissed, Rafe felt a jab of pain, and he touched his face. Right, my busted face.

  Give me one minute, he texted his parents.

  We’re Skyping, his mom wrote back.

  He tiptoed out of Eamonn’s room, hoping he was already falling back asleep. When he clicked the door shut, he heard familiar sounds coming from Heath’s door.

  “Well, good morning Louisa.”

  But it wasn’t Louisa.

  “Hey.” Allison gave him the most uncomfortable, purse-lipped smile in history. Rafe watched her leave the flat. It seemed she found something in Britain she actually liked.

  Rafe darted into his room. He was so surprised by Allison that he opened Skype as instructed.

  “Rafe! What happened?” his mom practically screamed.

  “What?” Then he remembered his injury, which had gotten even more Two Faced overnight. “Oh. This.”

  His parents stared at him in horror and seemed to have one of their telepathic conversations.

  “It looks much worse than it is.”

  “How did this happen?” His mom still had a look of death on her.

  “I got in a fight. But it’s fine.”

  “It’s fine?” his dad yelled. “Rafe, you are an ocean away all bruised up. You don’t want us to worry about you, yet you give us reasons to worry.”

  He supposed his dad had a point.

  “Is this because you’re American?”

  “No. Not quite.” Rafe wished he hadn’t been so truthful. “I just woke up. Can we talk later?”

  “No,” his mom said firmly. “We’ve barely spoken to you over the past month. All we’ve gotten are emails about your classes and that you saw Stonehenge. I want to catch up, especially now.” She was no doubt talking about his face.

  “Thi
ngs are good. I’m having fun.”

  “We know. When did you decide to become a bartender?” his mom asked. He could hear the imaginary jury gasp at the revelation.

  “How did you know that?”

  “You posted pictures to Instagram.”

  “You read my Instagram feed? But it’s private.” Only his friends could see his posts, and he hadn’t given his parents his username. He wanted one thing of his own that he didn’t have to share.

  “Melody Keener’s mother came up to me in the supermarket and told me you were bartending and you were dating a very cute young man.”

  Melody Keener was one of those high school friends he pretty much lost touch with once they graduated, yet still followed each other on social media.

  “Cunt,” Rafe said under his breath.

  “What did you say?” His dad teetered on the verge of yelling, and his mom’s look of disgusted shock was no better.

  “Nothing. Sorry.” Rafe’s head pounded as much from his bruises as from this interrogation. No amount of Advil could make this go away. “And I’m not a bartender. I’m a runner, but I got to take on a slow bartending shift once. Things seem more exaggerated on social media.”

  “You were able to get a job legally over there?” his dad asked.

  “Yes. I looked into it. I can work up to twenty hours a week with a student visa.”

  His parents traded a surprised look, but they also seemed impressed at his due diligence.

  “Interesting,” his mom said.

  “Why are you working at a bar? We wanted you to focus on your schoolwork and to enjoy being abroad,” his dad said.

  “Because I’m an adult, and I want to make my own money without you looking at my checking account.”

  “What do you want to buy that you don’t want us to know about?” his mom asked. Rafe knew the subtext.

  “I’m not doing drugs. I just…I want some freedom.” This seemed as good a time as any to share his other news. “I’m also, well I’m thinking of maybe possibly extending my study abroad trip for the rest of the year.”

  “What?” his dad asked. His mom’s expression seconded that.

  “I’m having a great time in England. I’m just hitting my stride, and I want to stay a little longer.”

  “A little longer? A whole year of your college education will be spent abroad. That seems like a lot,” his mom said.

  “It’s actually very common at Browerton. Kids extend their trips. I just have to get permission and send in the extra payment, which I will pay you back every cent.”

  His dad waved off the suggestion. Money was the least of their worries, something Rafe never appreciated enough. His parents unloaded a barrage of questions at him.

  “Will this jeopardize your ability to graduate on time?”

  “Will you be able to apply to BISHoP?”

  “Does being away a whole year hurt your chances of getting in?”

  “Will you come home for Christmas or spring break?”

  “One of the requirements for extending my trip is getting approval from my major, so I will check with the geology department to see if this is kosher. And I will definitely look into how this impacts my BISHoP application. I’m still in the exploratory stage. I’m going to do a lot more research on what extending my trip entails and the ramifications before making a final decision, and I’ll be sure to keep you in the loop every step of the way. I want to see if this is possible and give it my best shot.”

  Rafe gave his parents a cogent, confident answer that stressed communication. He had never sounded so mature in front of them, and for the first time, they seemed to look at him as an adult, too.

  “Okay, then,” his mom said with his dad nodding along.

  “And if I do stay, I’ll pay for my flights home to visit. Or maybe you can meet me in London?”

  But she didn’t seem thrilled. She still had on her concerned mom expression.

  “I really do think it’s wonderful that you’ve found this independence, and even though we’re a bit blindsided, we respect your choice.” She couldn’t turn off the psychologist in her. “I just hope you’re not doing all this to stay close to your boyfriend.”

  Rafe was curious how she knew, but then remembered Melody Keener’s mom.

  “If you really want to be independent, then you need to want to stay in England for you. Not for him.”

  “I know.” Rafe felt his confidence shift ever-so-slightly from ironclad to house of cards.

  Chapter 24

  EAMONN – TWO WEEKS LATER

  “What would you say is your greatest weakness?”

  “What kind of bollocks question is that?” Eamonn gave Rafe a raised eyebrow and took a sip of his beer. Rafe stood behind the bar at Apothecary wiping down the counter.

  “That’s good.” Rafe pointed at him drinking. “If you need a moment to think of an answer or if you’re nervous, take a sip of water to pace yourself. Always accept when they offer you a beverage, but don’t drink the whole thing. That makes you seem either too nervous or too comfortable.”

  “What if they offer a beer?”

  “Ask for water instead. Your propensity for saying the c-word skyrockets the second alcohol touches your lips. Now…” Rafe gestured for him to answer the question.

  Rafe’s boss let him bartend during another quiet Thursday afternoon. Since the place was dead, Rafe had Eamonn come in for a quirky form of torture. The mock interview.

  “Do you have all of these questions rolling around in your head?” Eamonn asked. Rafe had no notecards, but he had been on interviews for internships and whatnot.

  “Stop stalling. The interview for the management trainee program is tomorrow. Nepotism won’t do you any good if you completely bomb your interview.”

  It was going to be a massive interview. Eamonn would sit on one side of a long conference table opposite five executives and be subjected to rapid-fire questioning. His uncle hadn’t sugarcoated it for him.

  “All right.” Eamonn straightened his spine on the barstool and cleared his throat. “My greatest weakness is probably that I can be a bit lazy in completing things.”

  Rafe made a buzzer sound. “Try again.”

  “I am working on being a more punctual person.”

  Buzzer sound.

  “What? I leave the toilet seat up? I give up!”

  “The key is to give a weakness that isn’t really a weakness. For example, ‘I have a tendency to bite off more than I can chew, especially when it comes to an area I’m very passionate about. I’m hoping in this position, I can get better at delegating tasks.’”

  Eamonn took out his phone and did his best to type that out from memory. “You’re good. Although I don’t think I can use the passionate part without laughing.”

  “Why not?”

  “I’m not passionate about boxes, not even when used as a euphemism for fanny.”

  “I would hope not,” Rafe said. He put down his rag. “Don’t you get it, Eamonn? It’s not about boxes. I doubt your uncle dreamed of working for a box company when he was a boy. This program is about management, marketing, learning the mechanics of business. That’s what you have to emphasize you’re passionate about. You want to bring a product to the masses and grow market share.”

  Eamonn got an uneasy feeling in his stomach, the same as when he tried eating paper as a boy. He knew it was a bad idea as soon as he swallowed, and he paid the consequences.

  “Are you passionate about those things?” Rafe asked.

  “I mean, yeah.” Eamonn swirled his glass around.

  “That didn’t sound very convincing.”

  “What about you? How did you get so into rocks?”

  “I used to go into the woods behind our house and try to break apart rocks. I’d learned that rocks had been around for millions of years. These same stones I was messing with could’ve been from prehistoric times. I managed to break open a rock by smashing it against a bigger rock, and inside was this beautiful gree
n-and-purple crystal formation.”

  “Little Rafe, breaking rocks and putting them in his knapsack.” Eamonn laced his fingers through Rafe’s. Inside though, he felt jealousy for not having focus like Rafe did. He wasn’t able to indulge his passion as a kid. He was busy helping his mum and sisters.

  “I want to work for the National Parks Service or the EPA, making sure other kids can discover rocks in the future. I interviewed the head of the EPA when I was in high school for a class project. I called and emailed until I got through, even got to go to his office in D.C. and meet with him.”

  “They’d be idiots not to hire you.” He rubbed Rafe’s palm with his calloused thumb.

  A customer cleared his throat a few stools down, and Rafe paused their PDA to help him. Eamonn was so proud of Rafe for his drive and direction. Over these past two weeks, he’d been diligent about checking things off his school list for extending his stay here. It seemed like every few days, he would run to Eamonn’s room to celebrate getting approval from his school representative or finding out he could stay in Sweeney for the second semester. Eamonn was thrilled, truly. The thought of getting to spend an entire year with Rafe filled his heart with joy, but it would also send him a jolt of guilt. He worried that Rafe staying at Stroude might derail his future. Rafe had told him how competitive that BISHoP thing was. Even though Rafe said that he wasn’t staying for Eamonn, he was afraid of what Rafe might be giving up.

  “What about you?” Rafe came back and refilled Eamonn’s drink. “I know you have this interview tomorrow, but have you looked up non-profits where you could apply?”

  “I don’t think it’s for me.” Rafe had brought this up before. He had found some non-profits doing amazing work, but the management trainee program was the more solid, more adult option.

  “Have you heard of this company Water Water Everywhere? They’re committed to bringing clean water to children around the world. It’s right up your alley, and they have quite a few Brits working for them.”