Chapter 1

I walk up the concrete steps, only to be greeted by a smiling Santa hanging on the door. Stupid Santa, so happy and jolly…he’s mocking me.

I bring my fist up to the door and pound on Santa’s face spitefully. What was I going to do again…? Oh, yes, yell at him for his blaring music, which is disturbing my study time. The jerk.

When my knocking doesn’t bring him to the door, I ring the doorbell. Nothing. Then, being the impatient person I am, decide to ring and knock at the same time, hoping this will work. I can still only hear that obnoxious music on the other side. Another failed attempt. I give up with a sigh and turn to walk away. Just as I’m leaving the last step, the door opens.

“What do you want?”

All I see is a naked man standing at the door. He has a strong build, and I can’t stop staring at his muscular body. My eyes slowly travel downwards to see…okay, well he’s technically not naked, since he’s wearing pants, but he’s definitely close! Oh, and how well he wears those pants…

“What do you want?” he demands again.

Surprised by the voice, I bring my gaze up to the face of the arrogant bastard. Yes, he’s a bastard. Not only because of that freaking music, but also because he’s taller than my 5’8” frame. I open my mouth to yell at him, but stop, mesmerized by his gorgeous face. Wavy copper hair and light grey eyes complement the softest looking cream skin ever. I just have the urge to lick him. He is sexy, like totally sexalicious. I could just ravish him right then and there, but of course I won’t, seeing as I have scruples and all. So, I do the next best thing and just gape at him in all his marvelousness, mind completely blank. Thanks, brain, you’re very helpful today.

A minute later, he’s sneering in my face.

“Do I have to make myself any more clear? What the fuck do you want?”

Next thing I know, I give him an answer: I kiss him. I press my mouth against his, parting his lips. He tastes like cinnamon and chocolate. This gives me more of a reason to explore his delicious mouth. He runs something warm and damp along my bottom lip – wait, that’s his tongue, and it has a piercing, and…how did I not notice this before?! Wait…he’s kissing me…not pushing away…we’re kissing…we’re kissing! How did this happen?!

Before I can fully comprehend the situation, my mind becomes even more boggled when he presses his body against mine. My hand’s on his jeans, unbuttoning the fly, pushing back the fabric with the kiss. His bottom lip is trapped between mine, and my top lip is sandwiched between his. His tongue brushes against mine, and I shiver. He pushes the appendage a little further into my mouth, and I lick the tip, the warm buzz provoking some sound, like a choked purr, from deep within my throat. Brushing tongues is like…like sucking on popsicles. Hehe, sucking…

I stiffen in surprise as he grasps my tongue between his lips, sucking on it, pulling it into his mouth. I protest, wrestling my tongue with his, trying to pin it to the floor of his mouth. I can feel him grinning against my lips, and he steps forward, flattening me against the bed. Wait…bed?! When did we get to his bedroom, let alone his bed? (Well, assuming they’re his…)

But suddenly, I don’t care anymore; it’s the hands that do me in. The hand at my waist is dangerously close to my ass…oh, now it’s on my ass. He’s making soft circles against my skin with his fingers. Mine are running down his back, leaving angry red marks. He’s sooo good at– gah! SHIT! His fingers just touched my erection! And…what the hell?! When did my clothes come off?! When did I become such a horny person?! I blame this on the hormones. I am definitely screwed.

Realizing all this, I jump up, knocking my head against his forehead. He falls back, clutching his head in agony, and letting out a nasty string of cuss words. I’m kind of lightheaded, but I still manage to quickly gather my clothes and pull them on, then make a dash for the door. I run down the stairs (when the hell did we climb these stairs?), and dash out of the house, making a right turn and flying into mine. Yes, that’s right: I’m his next-door neighbour. Nice way to great new people, huh? I should just whore myself out. I wonder how much I should make my going rate? I bet he thinks I’m the biggest slut in the world! No, scratch that, I’m the official prostitute of the street. I should just hand out business cards.

I groan in embarrassment and sluggishly make my way to my room, which is in the basement. I go past the kitchen, down the stairs and make a left and the end of the stairs and go into my room. Ugh…I didn’t even ask his name. I silently curse myself for my gay genes. Can being gay even be genetic? Stupid, stupid hormones.

---

Hate it, love it, want to feed it to the devil? Tell me what you think, please review