Chapter 11

His own mouth hovered above Michael’s stomach, and he stopped there, resisting the impulse to move lower. He wanted Michael to keep talking to him, and Tre assumed contact below the waist might distract Michael from conversation.

“Is that what you want to do this weekend? Try to satisfy your oral fixation?”

Fingers traced his jaw, almost tickling with how light they were. “Would you let me try?”

“I will definitely let you try.”

“Then that’s what I want.” He swallowed. “I look at you, and…my mouth waters.”

Tre was used to that sort of reaction, from men and women. It wasn’t immodest to acknowledge that in a lot of ways, he met the ideal of physical perfection. The cult of the athlete was alive and well in the United States. And Tre’s popularity with both sexes only rose as he began to get more and more media coverage. But Tre had never seen anybody quite so sincere.Michael wasn’t exaggerating. Every reaction and response to Tre was honest.