Plan B by SJD Peterson Read Free Book Online Page A

He either really liked me or the guy was totally wacked.
    “What? I just wanted to make sure you made it back okay.”
    I sat back on my bed, forearms resting on my knees, and stared at the floor, letting his statement sink in. I couldn’t, for the life of me, figure this guy out. I looked up at him. “I haven’t decided if you are a nice guy or a total fucking weirdo.”
    Lance’s lip curled into a slight smile. “A little of both, I guess.”
    “Uh yeah. That makes me feel a whole lot better.”
    “Oh, like you’re not a little weird. I mean, dude, you’re wearing fake eyelashes.”
    Okay, he had me there. “Point taken.” I batted said eyelashes at him, which made his smile grow. I liked his smile—his whole face lit up with its appearance. “But at least I’m not the one who zones out and gets all freaky while daydreaming.” I gave him a poignant look. “Care to share what made you freaky?”
    Lance shook his head, his chilled cheeks going a deeper shade of red. “Just stuff.”
    Oh, damn, was he cute when he blushed. And now that I didn’t have to try and pretend I wasn’t looking at him, I started to feel a little more at ease, enough to want to tease him. “Naughty stuff?” I prodded.
    “Just stuff,” he repeated, suddenly very interested in my wall décor. “Those are great pictures,” he said pointing toward the collage. Now I was really intrigued, but it didn’t appear I’d be getting much more on the subject out of him, at least not at the moment, and I wanted a hot shower more than I wanted to push him. But we would be coming back to this subject in the very near future. I stood and went to the closet. “I need a hot shower,” I said as I grabbed some sweats and a T-shirt as well as my toiletry bag from the shelf.
    When I stepped out of the closet, Lance had kicked off his shoes and was now sprawled out on the bed, propped up on pillows with his hands behind his head, a study of someone totally laid-back. I arched my brows at him. “Make yourself at home.”
    “Cool.” He nodded toward the flat screen Bo had attached to the wall. Lord knows the man had to have something decent to watch his Star Trek twenty-four-volume box set on. “Mind if I watch some TV while you’re gone?”
    “Help yourself. The remote’s in the top drawer of the desk.” I pointed at Bo’s desk and grabbed my towel from its hook. “I’ll be right back.”
    Lance didn’t respond, just rolled over, pulled open the drawer, and grabbed the remote. I wasn’t sure how I felt about leaving him in my room alone. What if he started digging through my stuff? Found my naughty box, the giant dildo? I groaned silently at the thought. I knew I should have thrown that damn thing away. No, I am not a size queen; it was a joke, a big dick award from Lee after one of my performances. The last first impression you want to give someone is that you’re into dicks the size of a man’s forearm, but…. I glanced at the reclining Lance then to the closet where I’d hidden the box. Torn. I really wanted a shower, and the way he’d stretched out on Bo’s bed, it looked as if he was making himself comfortable for the night. Screw it . I rushed out of the room and hurried down the hall. The sooner I got my shower, the sooner I’d be able to get back and figure out Lance’s angle. I admit I was very much intrigued.
    When I returned to my room, damp but minus the cold ache that had settled into me earlier, thankfully, Lance was still in his comfy position and didn’t look as if he’d moved. I cringed as I heard “Beam me up, Scotty” blaring from the flat screen. Great, another Trekkie. “Please don’t tell me you like this shit?” I asked while running the towel over my wet hair.
    Lance didn’t immediately respond. His eyes wandered down my body, that mischievous grin of his curling his top lip as his eyes roamed, and I shuddered. When his eyes finally met mine, my breath hitched at how dark his eyes had turned. Had