Men of Holsum College 2

Diva and the Frat Boy

Nathaniel Reece is savvy and fierce and wouldn’t give boring-ass

Greg Sanders the time of day, except Greg is the president of a

fraternity Nathaniel wants to join. But once Nathaniel gets a taste

of the ferocity under Greg’s cool exterior, he can’t stop himself

from trying to lure the uptight frat brother out of his shell.

The face of gay life on campus and a crusader heading off to law

school, Greg doesn’t see any problem with seducing the

flamboyant and exciting Nathaniel. But that’s before he finds out

his fraternity brothers are refusing Nathaniel's pledge bid. Greg’s

athletic and masculine and has never had to deal with the censure

of his friends or the odd looks of strangers, but if he’s going to be

what Nathaniel needs, he’ll have to be comfortable not just being

out, but also standing out.

Genre: Alternative (M/M or F/F), Contemporary, Interracial
Length: 28,485 words

DIVA AND THE FRAT BOY

Men of Holsum College 2

Daisy Harris

EROTIC ROMANCE

MANLOVE

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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Erotic Romance ManLove

DIVA AND THE FRAT BOY
Copyright © 2012 by Daisy Harris
E-book ISBN: 978-1-61926-771-8

First E-book Publication: June 2012

Cover design by Jinger Heaston
All cover art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

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All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance
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Letter to Readers

Dear Readers,

If you have purchased this copy of Diva and the Frat Boy by Daisy
Harris from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you.
Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

Regarding E-book Piracy

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DEDICATION

To anyone who’s ever worried or fretted about how other people

see you—fuck ’em. You work it, honey.

DIVA AND THE FRAT BOY

Men of Holsum College 2

DAISY HARRIS

Chapter One

Nathaniel Reece had learned long ago that nothing good came of

standing out, at least not unless you owned it. And it was clear, as he
watched the upcoming graduates hobble across the makeshift stage at
the Eta Omega Xi end-of-the-year party, that Greg Sanders could in
no way work the red, four-inch pumps that were customary footwear
in the floor show.

“Greg Emmanuel Sanders, a man who shoots to score,” the emcee

announced, and Greg stumbled toward the junior who was handing
out mock diplomas. Maybe part of the problem was that he was so
flipping tall. In heels, Greg looked like a giraffe on roller skates.

“It’s just cruel.” Nathaniel leaned to shout in his friend Peter’s ear.

The music thrummed, and the floor shook from the bass. The place
smelled like men and alcohol and sex. And although it was funny to
watch the graduating Eta Xi brothers line up in cocktail dresses and
drunkenly stumble around, on Greg, drag was so not the look.

“They should make these guys practice beforehand. One of them

is gonna fall and hurt someone.”

Peter grinned, drink in hand. “Aw, they’re adorable!” Peter

pointed up at the stage. “And Greg looks fucking hot.”

Diva and the Frat Boy

Nathaniel gave him a skeptical look. He didn’t really get what

Peter saw in Greg. Hell, what everyone saw in the boy. Greg Sanders
was the president of the gay frat Eta Xi, and Nathaniel had been
shaking his tail at the guy since he had decided to pledge. But in
general, Greg wasn’t his type. Or more to the point, Nathaniel knew
he wasn’t Greg’s type.

“C’mon, look at those legs!”
“Meh.” Nathaniel shrugged. Greg’s legs were as white as the rest

of him and covered in the same jet-black hair that was on his head.
Sure, they were muscular. After all, the guy played college basketball,
but they weren’t anything special.

“Uh, huh?” Peter raised his eyebrows. He smirked. “Denial,

much?”

Nathaniel rolled his eyes and put his hand on his hip. “I didn’t say

he was ugly or anything.” Then he noticed Greg maneuvering down
the stage’s three steps and tottering toward them. Greg stumbled in
the flashing party lights.

“Fuck, honey.” Nathaniel braced himself against Peter. “He really

is gonna fall on top of us. You might want to give him some space.”

“Hey, kids.” Greg plucked off one of his shoes then took several

steps with only one side barefoot before arriving at Nathaniel and
Peter. Right on cue, Greg wrapped an arm around Nathaniel’s
shoulder and pulled him into a hug. “Can’t believe I’m not gonna be
seeing you after next weekend.”

Greg held on for a long time, long enough for Nathaniel to get a

good whiff of his aftershave and the scent of his skin underneath. He
smelled like wood and leather. Like a country-club horse-stable
Abercrombie & Fitch ad. Not really Nathaniel’s style. Straight-acting
types generally kept their distance from Nathaniel. Either that or they
fucked him and then treated him like shit.

“Give me those.” Nathaniel snatched the shoe out of Greg’s hand

and kicked off his loafers. Then he bent to put the pump on his own
foot. When Greg looked at him with gob-smacked confusion,

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Nathaniel pointed impatiently to Greg’s other shoe. “C’mon, Dorothy.
Let me show you how it’s done.”

“Don’t you think they’ll be too big?” Greg looked uncertainly at

Nathaniel’s feet.

Nathaniel smiled, batting his eyes. “Oh, honey, are you trying to

tell me something about the size of your…feet?” He slipped on his
second shoe and took a couple steps in place to feel the fit. They were
a little too big, not surprising since Greg was half a foot taller. “Don’t
worry.” He flashed Greg a wink. “I have a surprisingly large…” He
paused for effect then smiled lasciviously. “Shoe size.”

Greg blinked, redness spreading over his chest and climbing his

neck.

“The pumps work, right?” Nathaniel turned around, showing Greg

and Peter how great the heels made his ass look. “Skinny jeans work
with anything.” He looked over the crowd, checking out the view
from his new height. The seniors had finished their little floor show so
someone turned the music louder, and all around him, Eta Xi boys
and their guests started to bump and grind in time with the rhythm. Of
course, Greg fidgeted with his arms crossed like he didn’t know what
to do with himself. Peter, on the other hand, stepped from side to side
in a move he’d obviously learned from Dance Central.

Nathaniel rolled his eyes. He loved Peter like a brother, but he

didn’t have much patience for guys who couldn’t dance. “I’m gonna
go up.” He pointed to the stage, where a couple of the other pledges
were stripping off their shirts to the calls and shouts of the crowd.
Nathaniel could so outdance those little freshmen. He looked at Greg
and then Peter. “You guys wanna come?”

Greg shook his head. “No thanks.” The guy blushed like a siren.
“Suit yourself.” Nathaniel set his drink on a nearby horizontal

surface and strutted through the crowd to the stage. Truth was, the
shoes didn’t actually fit very well, but Nathaniel knew he could dance
in them so long as he didn’t get crazy and go for a kick. With the

Diva and the Frat Boy

extra inch of space behind his heel, that darling would fly across the
room and take out someone’s eye.

The music changed to a new song right as Nathaniel ascended the

stage. And though it wasn’t his favorite, it felt like an introduction of
sorts. So when the opening melody strummed through the cheap-ass
speakers, Nathaniel struck a pose. Then he raised his arms slowly
while the crowd went wild.

* * * *

Greg touched that spot on his chest where his breath caught. Oh

my God. Nathaniel was amazing. With his added height he was like a
statue, and he didn’t seem to have a fraction of the problem Greg had
had in the heels. If anything, Nathaniel seemed more in the teetering
shoes—glamorous and otherworldly, like he’d expanded beyond
gender. Greg was always amazed that Nathaniel could do that—
become a completely different person.

“Congrats, man.” Peter held out a hand for Greg to slap. “Happy

graduation.”

“Thanks.” Greg tried to focus on Peter even though his attention

kept drifting back to the stage and the sultry sway of Nathaniel’s hips.
He’d held back on hitting on Nathaniel for over a month, unwilling to
take advantage of the fact that Nathaniel was pledging. But by next
weekend, Greg wouldn’t be Eta Xi president anymore, and he’d be
able to make his move on the junior.

If Peter noticed Greg’s gawping, he didn’t say anything. “Cool

about the article, by the way.”

Greg puffed up his chest. Eta Xi’s yearly toga party was going to

be mentioned in an upcoming issue of Queer Vermont magazine.
Every year, the party raised money for gay organizations throughout
the area, but this year Eta Xi had partnered with Holsum’s drama
department to make it a huge event. “Thanks.” Greg tried to be
nonchalant. After all, the underclassmen had organized most of it. But

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he and the other officers had put a lot of work into talking to the right
people and making convincing phone calls. It wasn’t an exaggeration
to say the article would go down as one of the proudest moments of
Greg’s life.

“Guess you’re not planning to be in the closet at Vermont Law,

huh?” Peter mused. For some reason, he was looking at Nathaniel
when he asked it.

“Nah.” Greg shook his head. “Never crossed my mind.” He

watched Nathaniel shimmying on stage, snickering at the guy’s
performance. Nathaniel wasn’t just gay, he was a raging, bright pride
parade with a rainbow-colored cherry on top. Greg made a mental
note to keep an eye on Nathaniel at the toga party. Make sure he
didn’t do or say anything that would make Eta Xi look too…Greg
wasn’t sure what he thought. Too gay? That was crazy. Maybe what
he meant was too “in your face.”

“Wish Chris was so confident.” Peter frowned, staring across the

room to where his boyfriend was standing with a few others. “He says
he’s gonna come out to his dad this summer, but…Well, I won’t be
surprised if he doesn’t.”

Greg put a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Dude, he’s only been out on

campus for a month. Do you remember when we first started going to
his soccer games?”

Peter chuckled. “Yeah, that was funny. He acted like he couldn’t

see our whole side of the field. Dude missed a couple passes trying
not to look at me.”

“See? And by the last one he was holding your hand and the two

of you were making cow eyes at each other.” Peter and Chris were
ridiculously happy together. Even Greg—who’d been rooting for
them all along—sometimes got jealous.

“Yeah, I guess these things take time.” When Peter gave him a

reluctant nod, Greg socked him lightly on the arm. It was a brotherly
thing, indicative of the mentor-type relationship he had with
Nathaniel and Peter. But though Greg liked that he was something of

Diva and the Frat Boy

a leader to the pledges and their friends, he couldn’t wait to treat
Nathaniel like something other than a sibling.

Peter gave him a sneaky look. “And what about you? You gonna

make your move on Nathaniel before we all head off for the
summer?”

Greg shrugged. He really liked Nathaniel and definitely wanted in

his pants. But he didn’t know if he’d get the chance to hook up with
the guy before Nathaniel left for the year. Finals were over in less
than a week, and most kids didn’t stick around after the cafeteria party
on Friday and the toga party Saturday. By Sunday afternoon, the
campus would be like a ghost town. “Nah. I don’t think he’s
interested.”

“Maybe—” Peter started to say something but was cut off by

Nathaniel bounding up to the two of them and throwing an arm
around Greg’s shoulder.

“You gonna dance with me, honey?” Nathaniel swiveled his hips

against Greg’s. He flaunted his new height and grinned at Greg’s
blush. Unfortunately, Greg was more than blushing—his dick filled,
stretching the front of his dress. Nathaniel always got him hot, but
Greg had forgotten how sometimes the kid set him off so suddenly
that it was as if Greg was back in junior high.

“Um…” Greg licked his dry lips. “I…forgot to do something.” He

spun around and walked away, trying to get control of his breathing.
The brothers would finish pledge selection in a few days. And
then…Well, then, and only then, Nathaniel would be fair game.

* * * *

Nathaniel snickered, shaking his head. He’d never seen Greg

flustered before. It made Greg seem less stuffy and more endearing.

“’Dat ass, right?” Peter nodded at Greg’s retreating body.
“Don’t let Chris hear you say that.” Chris was Peter’s boyfriend,

and he had arguably the best rear end on campus. Though, now that

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Nathaniel bothered to look, he had to admit that in a cocktail dress,
Greg’s ass wasn’t bad.

“Meh, Chris thinks he’s hot, too. He wouldn’t care.”
Nathaniel lifted his drink to his lips and took several large

swallows. He had to catch up to everyone else at the party. He’d been
pacing himself, planning on a long night and maybe a trip out to a
club after the party, but it seemed like the frat brothers and their
guests were going to be too wasted to go anywhere, even if they took
cabs.

Anyway, he always wanted to drink when he thought about Chris

and Peter. Nathaniel never would have bothered pledging Eta Xi if his
best friend hadn’t pretty much abandoned him to play house with his
newly gay jock. “Yeah, yeah. Chris doesn’t get jealous…He rubs your
feet…You don’t have to tell me again how your boyfriend is
awesome.”

“You need to get a man of your own.” Peter shouted it right into

Nathaniel’s ear, his beer-laden breath wafting in a fragrant breeze.

“Ew, honey.” Nathaniel pressed Peter off, wincing. “I think you

may be ready to call it a night.”

“Maybe in a sec. I wanna dance.” Peter stepped around him and

walked to the other side of the dance floor. His boyfriend, Chris, was
against the far wall talking to some sophomores, and when he saw
Peter, Chris’s face lit up like New Year’s Eve.

Nathaniel sighed. He downed the last of his gin and tonic and a

warm buzz started in his chest and echoed up to his brain and down to
his balls. He wandered over to the drinks table, wanting to keep the
feeling going.

Already, the guys looked hotter and the lights brighter.
The alcohol was gone except the beer, and Nathaniel pressed the

nozzle to dribble the last of the keg into his glass. It was flat and
bitter, but Nathaniel swallowed it down before weaving through the
social club’s dining hall into the kitchens, where he knew there were
more cocktail fixings in the fridge.

Diva and the Frat Boy

The bright lights and stark-white walls were a blinding contrast to

the dimness outside, and Nathaniel blinked to get used to the change.
He kicked off Greg’s pumps and crossed the empty kitchen to open
the refrigerator’s giant door. It was one of those industrial types and
used by the frat’s eating hall. In the lower-left corner, Nathaniel found
a gallon-sized bottle of vodka and a couple liters of Kool-Aid.

“Classy,” he muttered to himself as he pulled his head out of the

cold. Nathaniel set down his cup and started pouring his drink. He
heard the kitchen door open right before Greg stepped around the
wall.

“Oh.” Greg stopped short. “Hey.” He looked confused for a

second, as if he wasn’t sure what to say. But then he walked over to
the row of kegs. “Have to grab another.” Greg bent over, barefoot and
in a slinky black dress that barely cleared his ass, and he tilted a keg
onto its side to roll it onto a dolly. The move made his arm muscles
bunch and flex, the masculinity of it so at odds with his cocktail dress
that Nathaniel couldn’t help but leer.

“Wanna hand?” Nathaniel stepped up behind him, close enough

that their bodies touched. He knew Greg wasn’t really the type to go
for him, but Nathaniel wanted to give him a going-away present.
After all, Greg was too nice be a douche about it afterward.

“Um…” Greg tensed, standing up straighter. The move made him

almost a head taller than Nathaniel, so that Nathaniel was staring
down at where his shoulders drew together between the straps of his
dress. There was something so damn wrong about Greg in a dress—
wrong and extremely hot.

Nathaniel leaned in closer. He trailed his touch down to the hem

of Greg’s skirt. Greg’s skin looked alabaster against the brown of
Nathaniel’s fingers. And Nathaniel used just one of those fingers to
lift the hem far enough to see Greg’s underwear.

He expected boxer briefs or maybe bikinis if Greg had been

feeling wild, but when Nathaniel found the lower swell of Greg’s ass
naked, he couldn’t resist pulling the skirt up higher to see what was

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going on up in there. He licked his lips when he found the spare white
elastic of a jockstrap.

“Ooh, nice—”
Greg spun around, catching Nathaniel against a wall. His body

stretched long and hard against Nathaniel’s—all coiled energy. “Fuck,
Nat.” Greg breathed down onto him. He pressed forward, and his
dress did nothing to hide his thick swell. The pressure of it scorched
Nathaniel’s cock. But it was Greg’s sudden presence, his too-tall, too-
broad form trapping him against the wall, that made Nathaniel moan.

“You gonna do something about it?” Nathaniel taunted, rolling his

hips.

Greg surprised him by stepping back just far enough to cup

Nathaniel’s dick in his hand. He stared into Nathaniel’s eyes,
suddenly looking a lot more sober. “Yeah. Yeah, I am.” Greg kept his
hand against the wall right by Nathaniel’s head as if to cage him in
place, but with his other hand, he fumbled open the front of
Nathaniel’s jeans.

He leaned into Nathaniel and kissed him—lips hot and nipping.

He used his teeth in quick tugs to urge Nathaniel’s mouth open, and
then Greg speared his tongue inside.

Nathaniel reached for Greg’s dress, but Greg stepped far enough

back he couldn’t get a hold. He held Nathaniel to the wall with a grip
on his balls and his jaw locked firm on his mouth. Nathaniel’s pulse
sped up, and his head swam. He wanted Greg’s dress off—to rip the
affront to his square shoulders and long back from his body. He
wanted to palm his jockstrap, to feel his cock through the rough
swatch of cotton.

“Nathaniel? You in here?” Peter’s voice echoed off the smooth

kitchen tile a split second before he cleared the door and rounded the
hallway into the room.

“Damn.” Greg pushed off the wall and moved a few paces away,

leaving Nathaniel bereft—his lips bruised and pants undone.

Diva and the Frat Boy

Nathaniel rushed to tuck back into his jeans and zip up. The kegs

had given him and Greg a bit of privacy, but it was only because
Nathaniel was short that Peter hadn’t seen his dick.

“Oh.” Peter slapped his hands over his eyes. “Sorry,” he said

blindly to the room. “Just letting you know me and Chris are leaving.”

“Oh, I’m…” Nathaniel wasn’t sure what to say.
Greg grabbed the dolly as if he couldn’t clear the room fast

enough. “G’night, Peter,” he said as he rolled the keg past. Then he
paused. His hair was short and conservative, so it didn’t hide the
redness streaking his cheeks. “See ya, Nat.”

Nathaniel blinked. His erection wilted in time to the crash of his

feelings. Greg had blown him off. And it was weird because
Nathaniel didn’t even like the guy that much, but he still felt
offended. “I’ll come with you,” he told Peter. Nathaniel’d had enough
of the lame party anyway.

“You sure?” Peter cocked his head to the side. He flashed a snide

smile. “You looked a little busy before. Not gonna stay and finish?”

“Nah, honey. He’s not worth my time.” Nathaniel furtively

unbuttoned an extra button or two of his Henley neckline before
following Peter out into the open entryway. He did not look for Greg
as he left, and he didn’t give a shit whether Greg checked out his
generous swath of pec cleavage.

* * * *

Greg took the stairs three at a time, and when he reached the

second floor he ignored every damn person he saw along the way to
his room. Closing the door behind him, he dragged the stupid outfit
over his head. He balled it up, wanting to rip the thing to shreds.

With a frustrated huff, he walked across his room to the window

and watched as Nathaniel made his way across campus. Nathaniel
bounced and swayed next to his friend Peter and looked so sexy it
made Greg’s dick pulse.

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Greg ducked behind his curtains and hooked his elastic waistband

over his cock. He wouldn’t spew next to the window, but he liked the
idea of being able to peek at Nathaniel’s sashaying walk while he
palmed his dick.

He was about to get in bed, dim the lights, and take care of

business when a knock sounded at the door.

“Hold on a sec.” Greg stumbled to where his towel was hanging

on a hook on the wall.

“If you’ve got someone over, I can come back.” The voice

belonged to Eta Xi’s vice president, Robert Graves. Rob was a junior
and had been elected to take Greg’s place as president in the coming
year.

“Nah. Just changing my clothes.” Greg dragged on a pair of

Bermuda shorts that would be baggy enough to hide his lingering
erection. He didn’t bother with a shirt as he hurried to the door.
“Wassup?” He pulled it open.

“You don’t have your boy toy hiding in here, do ya?” Robert

peered around Greg’s room before stepping over the threshold.

“If you’re talking about Nathaniel, no.” Greg forced his voice to

be as cool and dispassionate as the lawyer he someday hoped to be.
He didn’t believe in sleeping with pledges, but he’d never said as
much to his brothers lest they call him a prude. “I think he left with
some friends.”

“Cool.” Robert flopped into one of the plush chairs that had come

with the room. Supposedly, the chairs were great for fucking, though
Greg had never had the chance to try them out.

Robert pulled out a slip of paper. “So here’s the list of the guys

who are going to be invited to join in the fall.”

“Oh.” Greg took the slip and read it, scanning for Nathaniel’s

name. He didn’t see it, and he felt like his stomach dropped right
through the floor. “Um…”

“Yeah, Nat Reece didn’t make it.” Rob lifted out of his chair and

crossed to where Greg kept his stash of alcohol. He grabbed one of

Diva and the Frat Boy

Greg’s glasses and started pouring himself a drink. “He can try again
in the fall maybe, but some of the members are against him. Don’t
know why he’d bother, anyway, since he’ll be a senior.”

Greg didn’t know for certain who those dissenting members

were—it was the VP’s job to make sure personal dislikes didn’t get
communicated to other members of the frat. But Greg had a pretty
good idea of the culprits. The scary part was Greg knew for a fact that
Nat had hooked up with at least two of the three people who normally
formed the “against” voting bloc. “Maybe if some people don’t like
Nathaniel Reece, those people shouldn’t be letting him suck them
off.”

“My dear boy.” Rob lifted his glass in a mock solute. “That’s not

the issue. You know how Nathaniel can be. He’s a little over the top.”

When Greg let out an angry scoff, Rob rushed to say, “Oh come

on, Nathaniel would be the first to admit he’s flaming!”

Greg clenched his fist, and for a second he really could have

thrown a punch. Yeah, Nathaniel would have admitted
being…flamboyant. But it was different him saying it about himself
than someone else saying it about him, especially when that someone
was keeping him out of a fraternity. “You know he’s helping with the
toga party next Saturday. Or have you forgotten that Nat’s a drama
major?”

Rob shrugged. “He can still help out with it.”
“Fuckers.” Greg rubbed his eyes. He felt like complete shit for

encouraging Nathaniel to throw his name in as a pledge. Greg should
have known some of the brothers could be judgmental pricks.

“You know it has to be unanimous.”
“Yeah.” Greg poured himself a drink to match Rob’s. He took a

sip, though he wasn’t thirsty. Greg told himself Nathaniel hadn’t
really wanted to be a member anyway. The guy had only pledged
because he was annoyed about his best friend getting a boyfriend.
Half the time, Nathaniel acted like everyone at Eta Xi was an asshole.
Unfortunately, at that moment, Greg kind of agreed.

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He sighed into his cup. “You’ll call them, right?”
“Sure, I’ll call them.” Rob set down his glass on top of Greg’s

minifridge. It was such a mock-adult move that Greg wanted to laugh.
He felt like he was at some kind of board meeting at a major
corporation instead of being a twenty-three-year-old guy in a frat
house serving scotch to a guy who’d only turned twenty-one in
March.

“Thanks.” Greg crossed his arms.
“No worries.” Rob stepped to the door. “And hey—” He met

Greg’s eyes. “I get your concerns. But Nat’s a junior, and he’s got
plenty of friends. He won’t be upset—”

“No, I get it.” Greg stared down at his shorts and at his feet below.

“Thanks.” He shut the door behind Rob. Greg had been planning to
get right back to his stroke session after Rob left, but suddenly, he
wasn’t at all in the mood.

Diva and the Frat Boy

Chapter Two

Greg had known Nathaniel would show up at breakfast the next

morning, but Greg still found it hard to know what to do when Nat
walked into the room.

Nat was shouting, waving his arm around, doing all the things that

had gotten him kept out of Eta Xi. Greg winced, wishing he could
somehow tell Nathaniel to stop.

“Hell, girl, I’d lend them to you if you were my size,” Nathaniel

barked at Peter. “Those jeans do wonders for your package.” When
Peter muttered something in reply, Nathaniel said even louder, “Not
that your package needs any help at all, honey.”

Greg closed his eyes, feeling totally embarrassed for the kid. He

thought he heard Peter hiss something in response, but his attention
was diverted by Rob snapping his fingers.

“I said,” Rob enunciated. “We shouldn’t open our dining hall

during finals week next year.”

“Why?” Greg buttered a piece of toast. He was only half listening

to Rob. Instead, he strained to hear what Nathaniel might say next.

“Well, I’m not sure we’re breaking even, financially.” Rob’s gaze

darted to the side.

Next to him, Brad Chesterson said, “Yeah, and it draws the

riffraff.”

Greg shut his eyes and shook his head. “Shut the fuck up,

Chesterson.” Brad was always trying to get Eta Xi’s dining hall to go
back to serving only members of the frat. But the club had opted to be
part of the Holsum College dining system—accepting college dollars
and honoring college dining credits—which meant the hall was open

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to any student who wanted to eat there. “I say crunch the numbers. If
we lose money from being open this year, you can reconsider for next
year.” Greg set down his fork. “But a lot of the guys feel more
comfortable eating here than in the cafeteria.”

Something of a hush settled over the table, and Greg knew his

friends understood his meaning. A lot of kids at Holsum College
relied on the frat’s gay community for their sanity, even if they
weren’t members.

“Yeah, but we don’t have to feed all of them. There are plenty of

places to eat in town.” Brad downed his orange juice and stood from
the table to get another glass. “We’re not running a soup kitchen.”

Greg tried not to be too obvious about his disgust as he pressed his

forefinger and thumb into his eyes and rubbed his temples.

“He has a point—” one of Brad’s cronies started to say, but Greg

cut him off.

“Don’t be a callous prick.” Greg walked away from the table. He

swung the long way to pass Nathaniel on his journey to the coffee. On
any other day, he would have thrown an arm around Nathaniel’s
shoulder and pulled him into a friendly, platonic hug. But Greg felt
too guilty.

“Hey, honey.” Nathaniel grabbed his forearm, his touch sliding

down to Greg’s hand. He looked up at Greg with his blue-green eyes
wide and coy. Nathaniel’s eyes were amazing, and it wasn’t just
because their color was a surprise against his brown skin. It was
Nathaniel’s long, sultry lashes, how he always seemed to have the
remnants of eyeliner smudged along his bottom lid as if he’d followed
you back from a party, fallen asleep, and woken up a sloppy, fucked-
out mess in your bed.

“Hey, Nathaniel.” Greg shifted his attention toward the

coffeemaker. He wasn’t sure how to respond to Nathaniel’s flirtations
now that he knew Nat wasn’t getting into Eta Xi.

“Wait up!” Nathaniel hopped from the table and followed Greg

across the room.

Diva and the Frat Boy

“Yeah?” Greg kept his eyes on the pot as he poured himself his

drink. He fought the way his lips quirked up at the edges. He liked
Nathaniel, frat politics or not. Maybe now that Nat wasn’t a pledge
anymore Greg could go ahead and hook up with him.

“Um…” Nathaniel leaned against the table, tucking his body into

Greg’s line of sight. “You going to the caff party Thursday?”

“Yeah.” Greg shrugged. He considered how to act flirty himself.

“Yeah. I think I’ll make it.”

“Oh. Me, too.” Nathaniel pushed off the table. Now that he knew

where Greg would be, it seemed he didn’t need any more information.
Or perhaps Nathaniel had realized he had been in the process of
asking Greg out and regretted it. “Well, I’ll see you there.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Greg tried to ignore the sense that Nathaniel

might decide not to go to the caff party only because Greg was going.
He felt Nathaniel hovering close to his side, but Greg knew that if he
turned and faced the guy head-on, Nathaniel would run away. He
swept his finger to brush Nathaniel’s wrist. It was a quick touch, like
a lick of a tongue. But Greg pushed off the bar and stalked back to his
table. “Hope to see you there.”

* * * *

The next four days passed in a finals-induced blur. Between tests

and studying, Greg barely had time to think about Nathaniel, much
less seek him out. But he figured the span had given Rob plenty of
time to call Nathaniel and the other pledges to let them know who had
and had not been accepted to Eta Xi.

By the time he got dressed for the caff party, Greg hoped

Nathaniel had gotten over the rejection. Really, Greg knew he should
have called the guy and asked how he was doing, but Greg told
himself that Nathaniel would just feel embarrassed by the sympathy.

Greg stared in the mirror for a long time, wondering what would

be most likely to grab Nathaniel’s attention. In the end, he chose some

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of the clothes he’d bought during his year abroad in France. He hadn’t
worn the tight jeans and pastel shirt since he’d gotten back from
Europe. They were too flashy for most college parties, and Greg
hadn’t gone to too many clubs since he’d been back in the States. But
the clothes seemed like the type of thing Nathaniel might find hot.

He preened, gelling up his hair and making sure his shirt clung to

all the right places. Greg told himself not to get his hopes up too high.
If Nathaniel was mad about not getting into Eta Xi, Greg wouldn’t
have a chance no matter what he was wearing. But if Nathaniel didn’t
care—well, then Greg was going to do his damnedest to get Nathaniel
Reece to look his way.

* * * *

Nathaniel stood on the upper floor, surveying the crowd on the

level below. He’d arrived alone and was scanning for Peter or Chris,
or anyone he knew. Holsum was a smallish school, but like any
community, people tended to stay in their respective groups.
Nathaniel mostly knew guys from his class, Eta Xi, and Chris’s soccer
team—though those guys he knew only by sight.

From his perch, he spotted Peter talking to some people Nathaniel

knew from the Queer Student Council. Peter broke away for a
moment to wave to some other guy before turning back to his friends.

Man. The dude he’d waved at was smoking hot. His black hair

was spiked up, and he was wearing a moss-colored, body-hugging
deep-V-neck and a pair of painted-on jeans. The look was blatantly
sexual and blatantly same-sex oriented. Nathaniel couldn’t see the
guy’s face, but he wondered how he’d never noticed him around
campus before. He watched the guy weave through the party.

Trying to play it cool, Nathaniel jogged down the stairs and over

to the drink table. He poured himself a beer and downed it fast before
pouring himself another and setting off to find Mr. Tall, Dark, and
Hunky.

Diva and the Frat Boy

The guy probably wouldn’t go for him, Nathaniel reminded

himself. After all, he’d seemed hella tall, and Nathaniel was only five
eight. Still, those jeans had been worth a moment of consideration,
and Nathaniel figured it would be worth finding the guy if only to
check out his ass.

He eased through the mess of people on the dance floor, swaying

in time to the beat and swerving his beer around anyone who might
have knocked it out of his hand. The party was revving up, and he
passed more than a few students with pupils dilated or eyes reddened
from something stronger than what was being served out of the kegs.

The crowd parted, and he saw the guy from the back. He was

taller than he’d looked from above—maybe six three. And the view
from behind was everything Nathaniel had imagined and more. His
shoulders were broad, his waist narrow, his hips a work of art. He
stretched his arms above his head to dance, and the swerve of his
body stole Nathaniel’s breath.

Fuck. The guy was so out of Nathaniel’s league. Nathaniel stood

there for a second, watching him dance. It wasn’t worth approaching
him just to get turned down, so Nathaniel thought about finding Peter
and Chris and maybe some of the other guys he knew from his class.
But the sex god turned around and flashed Nathaniel a smile.

And it was Greg Sanders.
But…he’d done something with his hair, and Nathaniel had never

noticed before how his long legs weren’t so much gawky as graceful.
Nathaniel’s emotions battled around in his gut and his stomach. He
was turned-on but also shocked and—though it made him feel small
and petty—jealous.

“Hey, Nathaniel.” Greg stopped dancing long enough to walk

over. He stared down at Nathaniel for a split second with doubt in his
eyes, but then he wrapped an arm around Nathaniel’s waist. With a
flirty smile, he asked, “Wanna dance?”

Nathaniel was still too shocked to formulate an answer, but it

didn’t matter because Greg pressed into him, forcing Nathaniel to

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move in time. “Nice pants.” Nathaniel couldn’t think of anything else
to say. His body reacted faster than his brain, all his blood rushing
south to the spot where Greg shoved a knee between Nathaniel’s
thighs.

Greg’s hands roamed up his arms and skimmed his sides. He

teased his fingers along Nathaniel’s shoulder blades, exposed by his
barely there tank top. Greg grinned down at Nathaniel with a mocking
expression. “Nice shirt.”

Nathaniel twisted his lip into a smirk. “You think?” He cocked his

eyebrow. “I was thinking of going with something sexier.”

The flash of challenge in Greg’s eyes was unmistakable. He rested

his hands right above Nathaniel’s ass, his fingers gripping just a little
too hard. It was the closest thing to public groping two gay guys
would dare at a mainstream party on campus, and Nathaniel couldn’t
help but feel flattered. He wondered if maybe the guys at Eta Xi had
decided which pledges to invite and Greg was being flirtier now that
he knew Nathaniel had gotten in.

With a smile, Nathaniel spun around in Greg’s arms, meaning to

line up his ass with Greg’s hips, but since Greg was so much taller,
Greg’s dick rubbed on Nathaniel’s lower back. That was, until Greg
bent his knees and widened his stance.

Oh my God. Greg fucking Sanders was grinding on him—at a

party. And not even at Eta Xi. Nathaniel wondered if the stars had
shifted their alignment or the Earth’s poles had reversed themselves.
Who the fuck was this guy? And more importantly, would he still be
this version of himself tomorrow, or would he have shrunk back into
boring old Greg with his grandpa sweaters and his ten-o’clock-news
hair?

“Wanna get out of here?” Greg ran his nose up Nathaniel’s neck

to breathe in the shell of his ear. He was so damn big—long arms,
long legs.

Diva and the Frat Boy

“Yeah. Maybe for a bit. I want to come back, though.” He didn’t

want to give Greg the idea they were going to spend the night together
or something.

“No worries.” Greg wove his hand with Nathaniel’s. He pulled

him away from the dance floor then winked at him over his shoulder.
“We don’t even have to go to my room.”

Greg flashed the guy at the door his wristband as they left and

grabbed one for Nathaniel so he wouldn’t have to pay when he went
back inside. Then he rushed them across a grassy expanse that
separated the cafeteria from some of the dorms, and when they
reached a place where shadows cloaked the space between two
buildings, Greg spun him around and gently, but insistently, pressed
him face-first into the wall.

Daisy Harris

Chapter Three

The scrape of brick against his cheek caused a thrill of adrenaline

to rise up under Nathaniel’s skin. Greg reached around to unbutton
Nathaniel’s fly—his fingers shaking and his touch rough.

“Oh, fuck, sugar.” Nathaniel leaned his head back onto Greg’s

shoulder. Greg kissed and sucked his neck, shoving his hands into
Nathaniel’s pants, easing them over his hips. Nathaniel shimmied to
get them lower until he heard Greg drop to his knees, taking
Nathaniel’s jeans with him.

Humming his appreciation, Greg kissed his way over Nathaniel’s

hip. “You are so damn hot.”

Nathaniel smiled, preening. He tilted his ass back and thanked his

lucky stars that he’d had enough sex at that point to not be scared.
He’d always fantasized about being taken hard and quick somewhere
semipublic. And though he knew a fair number of guys who’d tried it
already and hooked up with strangers at clubs, none of them had
found the experience all that pleasant. Nathaniel, as much as he liked
to talk, had always been too scared.

“You cool with this?” Greg palmed Nathaniel’s ass, nosing his

way between the cheeks.

“Yeah.” Nathaniel’s reply came out high-pitched and breathless.

He’d only been rimmed a few times, and the feel of Greg’s lips was
making him crazy. He reached for his dick and gave it a quick tug, but
Greg stood up from where he was crouched. He grabbed Nathaniel’s
hand and placed it against the bricks.

Diva and the Frat Boy

Greg dragged Nathaniel’s hips back, almost making him trip over

the pants still wrapped around his ankles. “Keep your hands on the
wall.”

Nodding, Nathaniel hung his head between his arms. He closed

his eyes, feeling the creep of Greg’s hands up the back of his thighs,
the huffs of Greg’s warm breath on the curve of his ass, and then the
delicious vulnerability of Greg spreading his cheeks apart and swiping
his tongue over Nathaniel’s pucker.

Nathaniel’s legs shook, and he swerved his hips to get closer. He

wanted to switch things around, get Greg’s back to the wall and those
ridiculously tight jeans open. Nathaniel wanted to suck him until he
shot all that newfound sexiness down Nathaniel’s throat.

But apparently, that wasn’t going to happen, because Greg had

already stood and was rifling around in his pockets. Nathaniel
couldn’t bring himself to look over his shoulder to see what was
going on. The delicious sense of rightness and abandon was fading a
little now that it seemed like they were actually going to do this thing.
Nathaniel had only bottomed flat on his back or lying on his stomach.
But he didn’t want to pussy out—especially now that Greg was acting
like everything Nathaniel had ever thought he’d wanted. Especially
since Nathaniel would have loudly proclaimed that Greg would never
have the balls to do something like this and Nathaniel would.

Still, he flinched when Greg’s lubed finger found his hole.
“You done this before?” Greg asked, his fingers slicking around,

pressing but not penetrating.

Nathaniel thought about giving an offhand “yeah” but didn’t want

to lie. He could talk as big a game as he wanted in the dorms, but
Nathaniel didn’t see the point in being coy. “Not against a wall.” He
tried to give Greg a little chuckle, but Greg chose that second to slide
his finger into Nathaniel’s ass, causing Nathaniel’s knees to buckle.

“So you’ll tell me if it’s too much, okay?” Greg pressed a kiss to

the back of Nathaniel’s neck, and it was almost overwhelming. Not
the probing at his ass. That part was intense but not painful. But

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something about that kiss, soft and sure and so intimate, made
Nathaniel feel all the more naked. Suddenly, he didn’t know if he
could go through with this, at least not with Greg.

“Listen—” Nathaniel’s attempt to slow things down was

swallowed by his moan. Greg pumped a second finger into him, using
the leverage to lift him almost onto his toes. The whole world
narrowed to Greg’s insistent stretching and his soft lips on
Nathaniel’s neck. It was as if the length of his spine was strung tight
with an electric charge, and his dick waved in front of him, about to
burst just from the pressure. “Oh God…” He didn’t want to come just
from fingers in his ass, and to be honest, Nathaniel had never thought
he could, but that was the direction things were taking. “Shit, if we’re
gonna do this thing, you better hit it now.”

Greg nodded against his neck. He pulled back, and Nathaniel

heard the rip of a foil wrapper and then felt the press of Greg’s cock
on his rim. His heart pounded—he was turned-on and confused and
just a little worried, but before he could second-guess what they were
about to do, he arched back, pressing himself down onto the head of
Greg’s dick.

“Shhh…” Greg hissed as he molded Nathaniel’s hips. He pumped

forward in quick thrusts.

It was shallow, but Nathaniel shivered with the sting of the initial

stretch. He panted, trying to get used to the sensation, to get his
feelings back to the good place and away from the sense that he was
too small and that he would be way too easy for Greg to hurt.

“You okay?” Greg held still, big hands wrapped around

Nathaniel’s waist.

No way was Nathaniel going to admit that maybe he wasn’t.

Instead, he reached down for his cock, wanting to stroke himself back
to feeling horny and completely in control.

“Want me to?” Greg reached around to cover Nathaniel’s hand

with his own. His fingers were wet with lube, and his touch was firm

Diva and the Frat Boy

and strong. Stroking Nathaniel like he was, his stomach pressed flat
on Nathaniel’s back like a warm, solid shield.

“Yeah.” Nathaniel pressed his hands into the wall again and let

Greg do the work. He smelled grass and Greg’s aftershave, felt his
legs getting stronger and his body shifting to accommodate Greg’s
cock. He pushed himself backward, impaling himself as far as he
dared, then added a twist of his hips before doing it again.

“Hell, yeah.” Greg rubbed Nathaniel harder and picked up his

pace. His thrusts were short—all he could manage with his hand still
wrapped around Nathaniel’s dick—but they were slow and intense,
like a writhing vibration that Nathaniel could feel all the way from his
shoulders down to the back of his knees.

“Oh, honey.” Nathaniel squirmed, and pumped forward into

Greg’s hand and then back onto Greg’s cock. He felt completely
serviced and fucked and taken care of, and soon his legs were shaking
for a whole different reason. His balls pulled up tight, and his dick felt
ready to explode. “I don’t know if I can come standing up.”

Greg pulled him away from the wall and somehow managed to

maneuver Nathaniel onto his hands and knees on the grass without
ever breaking the connection of their bodies. The soil felt cool and
soft under him, and the wetness crept into the pants around his ankles,
but Nathaniel was so ready to blow he didn’t care. “You close?” He
bucked back, hoping Greg was, because Nathaniel had never managed
to take a dick much longer once he came.

“Yeah.” Greg fucked him faster. His rapid-fire thrusts felt like

fire, but Nathaniel was so close that the intensity just burned him up
from the inside until he was reaching for his cock, and he felt Greg
harden like he was about to shoot, too.

“Motherfucking goddamned Christ.” Greg fell forward onto

Nathaniel’s back, his big body shaking.

Nathaniel tried to hold them both up long enough to come, but he

collapsed onto the grass, jerking his hips into his cupped hand until he
spasmed and shot wet and slimy on the unsuspecting lawn.

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“Oh God, sorry.” Greg rolled off, dragging Nathaniel with him.
Nathaniel was glad, because he hadn’t been looking forward to

getting jizz and grass stains over the front of his shirt. It was bad
enough that his white jeans were now muddy. “No worries.”
Nathaniel rolled over Greg to lie on the clean side of the grass. Truth
was, it was kind of cute how Greg had lost all muscle control when he
came.

“Next time, we really should find a bed.” Greg pulled off the

condom, balled it up, and shuffled over to a trash can to throw it
away. Typical. Greg would never just toss a used rubber behind a
bush.

Nathaniel frowned. “Who says there’s gonna be a next time?” He

tried to say it in a teasing way, but something inside him rebelled.
Greg Sanders was fun, and it seemed he had an unexpected sexy
streak, but he was leaving, and he wasn’t even really Nathaniel’s type.
More importantly, Nathaniel wasn’t Greg’s type, even if Greg hadn’t
figured it out yet.

“Oh yeah, there’ll be a next time.” Greg fastened his pants and

patted the dirt off his knees. “If you’re lucky.” Greg added a wink.

“Yeah, we’ll see.” Nathaniel followed suit, trying to rub the dirt

off his clothes. But unlike Greg, his pants were the wrong color to
hide stains.

“You heading back to the party?” Greg asked. He held out a hand

for Nathaniel to take, but Nathaniel didn’t accept it.

“Nah. Gonna run home and change first.” He couldn’t seem to

meet Greg’s eyes. “Um…That was fun.”

“Yeah.” Greg seemed at a loss for words.
Nathaniel waved him off. “See you later.” Then, not knowing

what else there was to say, Nathaniel walked away.

* * * *

Diva and the Frat Boy

Nathaniel organized decorations all the next day and harassed as

many frat brothers as he could into wearing decent costumes. He
worried about the few who insisted on dressing themselves instead of
accepting togas premade by the drama department, but that couldn’t
be helped. Some people refused to look good, and it wasn’t
Nathaniel’s job to convince them otherwise.

Still, he put off going to Greg’s room as long as possible.

Nathaniel wasn’t sure why he was reluctant to face Greg after their
hookup, except that he’d planned for his relationship with Greg to
stay casual and brief. Any time they spent together might give Greg a
chance to get uncomfortable and act like an asshole. Nathaniel liked
to think Greg was too nice for that, but he knew all too well how even
nice guys could be dicks.

After a long while standing outside Greg’s door, Nathaniel

knocked three sharp raps.

“Yeah?” Greg’s voice was tentative.
“It’s, um…Nathaniel. Can I come in?”
“Sure.” Greg answered a moment before he opened the door. He

was wearing only boxers, and his hair was damp and messy like he’d
just gotten out of the shower. Nathaniel had to admit he looked hot. If
one was into that clean-cut thing. Which Nathaniel wasn’t.

“So, did Rob tell you I was on costume and makeup?” Nathaniel

stepped past a bewildered Greg, his backpack hitched over his
shoulder. He dragged a small rolling bag behind him. It was only
seven o’clock, so they had plenty of time to work.

“Yeah, he did.” Greg crossed his arms. It was quite a sight,

considering his arms were long and muscled. Nathaniel remembered
how it felt to be held prisoner by Greg’s longer reach.

Greg cocked his head to the side, his expression intense. “Why

didn’t you return any of my texts?”

Nathaniel ignored the question and tossed his backpack on the

bed. Truth was, he wasn’t sure why he hadn’t responded. He’d seen
every one of Greg’s texts—asking if they could meet up again, if

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Nathaniel would be around getting ready for the toga party, if
Nathaniel was doing okay—but each time Nathaniel had put his
thumbs over his touch screen, he hadn’t known what to reply.

When Greg looked at him searchingly, Nathaniel made a show of

pulling his phone out of his pocket. He squinted at it and said, “Oh,
drat. My ringer was off. Sorry.”

Greg narrowed his eyes, but let it go. “Oh well, I was really just

asking when you were going to get here today.” Greg lied less
convincingly than Nathaniel had. Nathaniel didn’t get why Greg was
doing this—acting like there was more that needed to happen between
them.

“Well, I’m here now.” Nathaniel cast a meaningful glance at his

bags.

“You moving in?” Greg measured the suitcase and the backpack

with his eyes. “Seriously, how many costumes are in there?”

“I brought a few options.” Nathaniel unzipped the bags and started

pulling out cases of makeup, body paint, and folded lengths of fabric.
He’d gotten shimmery blue, green, navy, and red from the fabric store
and brought just about every makeup kit from the drama department’s
dressing rooms. “You’re not the only person I’m dressing today.”

“Body glitter?” Greg looked over his shoulder, staring down at the

pile of stuff. He fixed Nathaniel with a disbelieving stare, and then he
seemed to understand the lengths Nathaniel was going with this whole
“costume” thing and his eyes widened in fear. “No, Nat. No, no,
no…” He held up his hands.

“Oh, stop being such a baby.” Nathaniel tried to hide his hurt as

he lifted a swath of fabric against Greg’s shoulder. “You knew you’d
have to wear some kind of outfit when you offered to host the event.”

Greg slumped, looking uncertain. “I thought it was just going to

be a sheet or something.” Nathaniel could tell from his tone of voice
that Greg was capitulating. He couldn’t tell, though, whether Greg
was glad to be giving in or would later be pissed off.

Diva and the Frat Boy

He couldn’t think about it, because some tiny sliver of Nathaniel

really wanted this. It was as if he couldn’t let go of that more exciting
person Greg had been the night before. “Well, that will never do. Not
if I’m going to be seen with you.” Nathaniel realized that he hadn’t
meant to say those words, and he clamped his mouth shut.

“Oh.” Greg lifted his chin, but not before Nathaniel saw the flash

of his smile.

Nathaniel grabbed another length of cloth to drape over Greg’s

bare shoulder. He skimmed Greg’s skin, sending a little rush of
electrical current through his body. He heard Greg’s breath catch, saw
the way the front of his boxers were bowing forward as he got hard.

“We’re going to have to go with navy for you,” Nathaniel

whispered. “You’re too pale for bright colors.” He hadn’t wanted to
get physical with Greg again—and certainly not sober. But being so
close, smelling that faint spice of Greg’s aftershave and the earthy
smell of his skin, was making Nathaniel horny. He wished he were
wearing boxers, too, since his jean shorts were getting way too tight.

“Nat.” Greg touched his upper arm, cool fingers on the bare skin

exposed by Nathaniel’s sleeveless T. He leaned in closer, testing
Nathaniel’s resolve.

Nathaniel closed his eyes and thought about pulling away. He

knew things with Greg would never end well. Greg would want
Nathaniel to change, to be someone different. They’d end up hating
each other. However, Nathaniel had never been good at resisting
temptation, and Greg smelled fantastic. So when Greg bent to kiss
him, Nathaniel cursed himself. But no matter his reservations, he
didn’t say “no.”

Daisy Harris

Chapter Four

Nathaniel pressed his jean-clad hips forward, rough denim

scratching Greg through his shorts. He was wilder than the night
before—more insistent and less submissive—but Greg found he liked
it. He didn’t need to play the top to enjoy being with Nathaniel.

“What’re you up for?” He stroked his hands up Nathaniel’s sides

and under his shirt. Nathaniel was so thin Greg could feel each of his
ribs. But his skin was soft and lush—somehow thicker and smoother
than Greg’s.

Nathaniel didn’t answer right away, though he did tease his finger

under the waistband of Greg’s shorts. He kissed Greg’s neck, his
breath warm and enticing. “I’m still a little sore.”

The words gave Greg a thrill of possessiveness. He popped open

the button of Nathaniel’s fly and then dragged Nathaniel’s tank top
over his head. It wasn’t necessary, strictly speaking. After all, Greg
could have just pulled the fabric to the side to get at Nathaniel’s
nipples. But Greg loved how Nathaniel looked shirtless. He’d seen
him topless a few times around campus, and though Greg knew Nat
wasn’t everyone’s type, Greg loved how his sinewy shoulders and
narrow chest made him look like a bird about to take flight.

“Sorry if I was too rough on you.” Greg said it with a hint of

tease. First off, he wasn’t sorry at all, and secondly, he really liked
that Nathaniel had admitted it.

“Don’t sound so smug, honey.” Nathaniel shoved his shorts to his

feet and stepped out of them, so bold and sexy Greg nearly swallowed
his tongue. Then Nathaniel cocked his hip out and blinked those long-
lashed eyes. “Or you might not get that blow job.”

Diva and the Frat Boy

Greg smiled, shoving off his own boxers and dropping to his

knees. “Maybe that’s not what I’m wanting.” Greg smirked at the
surprised look on Nathaniel’s face. Then he ran the tip of his tongue
over Nathaniel’s erect cock.

Nathaniel was skinny, but that characteristic didn’t carry over to

his dick. That part of him was thick and long, and, because his hips
were so narrow, the rightward arch reached past his hip bone. It was
partially a proportion thing, but that didn’t stop it from being hot as
hell. Greg swallowed him as far as he dared, moaning at his spicy
aroma and bitter taste.

“Didn’t know boys like you could suck like that.” Nathaniel’s

snarky comment was drowned at the end by a breathless grunt. He
bucked forward in little jerks, obviously not wanting to go too deep,
but like he couldn’t stop himself from getting just a little more of
Greg’s mouth.

“Boys like me?” Greg grabbed his shaft and pumped it hard

before sucking again. Between his hand and his mouth, he was getting
most of Nat’s length, and he had just started wondering whether
Nathaniel wanted to get fingered, too, when Nathaniel pulled Greg up
to standing with his surprisingly strong arms.

Nathaniel kissed him once, right before he whispered, “Changed

my mind. Let’s go.” He dragged Greg over to one of his plush chairs.
Then Nathaniel climbed up so his knees were on the armrests and his
arms were folded over the chair’s back. He tipped his ass up and
looked flirtatiously over his shoulder. “You want?”

Greg did. He wanted to slam up inside him and make Nathaniel

shout. But he hadn’t become president of Eta Xi for nothing. Greg
always planned ahead. He leaned over Nathaniel’s back to take in
Nathaniel’s coriander and musk smell. Greg’s dick batted up between
Nathaniel’s legs, rubbing against the soft flesh of his balls. He
wrapped a hand to Nathaniel’s front and stroked him, pressing kisses
onto his neck. “But I want to do you later.” He couldn’t keep the

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growl out of his voice when he said, “And I don’t wanna have to be
gentle.”

“Ooh, Daddy.” Nathaniel writhed in his grip. The term of

endearment could have sounded creepy, but the breathless and
mocking way Nathaniel said it was nothing but hot. “Tell me what
you want.”

“This.” Greg lifted him, shifting Nathaniel over enough that he

could get into the chair, and then he pulled Nathaniel on top so he
straddled Greg’s thighs. With a hand behind Nathaniel’s neck, he
pulled him into a kiss while palming both their cocks.

Nathaniel smiled down at him. He looked so damn cute and sexy

Greg couldn’t kiss him enough, touch him enough. Greg thought
about offering to switch things around and bottom—he would have
been cool with it, especially now that he’d seen Nathaniel’s dick—but
he figured it would ruin Nathaniel’s daddy fantasy. Plus, he had to
admit he wanted to top the first time he got to use the chair.

“C’mon.” Nathaniel bucked into his hand, his fingers gripping

hard on Greg’s shoulders. They both had foreskins, so the friction felt
perfect even without any lube. Nathaniel was hard and thick in Greg’s
hand, matching him for length and girth. But where Greg was getting
purple as he neared climax, Nathaniel’s dick turned a dusky, rich
brown. Greg couldn’t stop watching their two cocks pressed together,
even though it was sort of juvenile. It had been a long time since Greg
had felt such a need to see a guy come. He wondered if Nathaniel
wanted to be kissed or maybe have his nipples tongued, but when
Greg checked his expression, he saw Nathaniel staring down at their
cocks, his attention rapt.

“Hot, yeah?” Nathaniel sighed. The soft way he said those words

was nothing like his normal strident and mocking tone. It made Greg
wonder if he’d ever before heard Nathaniel’s real voice.

He brushed a kiss over Nathaniel’s jaw, tasting his thin hint of

stubble. “Yeah, looks so good, my dick with yours.” Then Nathaniel
did something that made Greg’s chest ache—he laid his forehead on

Diva and the Frat Boy

Greg’s shoulder. Greg could tell by how his breath caught that he was
going to go soon.

“Do it for me, baby.” Greg nosed the shell of Nathaniel’s ear.

He’d never called anyone “baby” in his life and hadn’t really thought
he’d like it, but with Nathaniel it felt right.

“Oh God.” Nathaniel whipped his hips, his cock getting harder

and pulsing right before he creamed on Greg’s hand.

The hot, slick friction set Greg off so that he shot his own seed to

mingle with Nathaniel’s, sliding it over both of them, though they
were too sensitive to stand it much longer.

“Ach, too much, honey.” Nathaniel pulled at his wrist, laughing.

His voice was drifting back to the lilting, snarky cadence he normally
used, but that was fine with Greg. He’d seen the guy behind the
curtain.

Nathaniel stared around the room, and Greg figured he was

looking for tissues. His front was all draped in white.

“They’re over there.” Greg pointed to the box next to his bed.

“Would you grab me some?” He didn’t want to stand up and risk
getting sploo on the chair’s upholstery. Then again, he considered that
being in a frat house, the chair had probably seen worse. He jolted up,
wondering if a person could get an STD from a lounger.

“Here, honey.” Nathaniel handed him some wadded-up tissue. He

was smiling, but not in the same way he had when he’d been staring
down from Greg’s lap. It was as if he’d shifted into another person,
someone harder and more guarded. Greg didn’t mind in general—he
knew a lot of folks put on an act in public. It was just that Greg didn’t
like the thought that Nathaniel still considered him a stranger.

“Nat…” Greg reached for Nathaniel’s arm to pull him into a

cuddle, but Nathaniel twisted out of his grip.

“C’mon, I have to get you dressed.” His words and flashing eyes

were teasing, but Greg heard the steel underneath. Nathaniel was
setting a boundary. They could fuck, but not touch.

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“Okay.” Greg decided not to make an issue out of it or feel

rejected. There was plenty of time for him and Nathaniel to get closer.
Nathaniel lived in Baltimore and Greg in DC. Greg could always
drive down over the summer.

He looked at the wares Nathaniel had brought and opted to let

Nathaniel think Greg was cool with not getting his hug. “So, you’re
really going to put makeup on me for this party?”

Nathaniel pulled up his jean shorts and slid his shirt over his head.

“Please, hon. Don’t pretend you’re a big fat prude.” Then he watched
Greg getting dressed, his hands on his hips and his eyebrows cocked.
“You’re not allowed to ruin my fun.”

Greg hid his smile. “No. I won’t. But if there are going to be

sequins involved, can you cover my face so no one can tell it’s me?”
The toga party was supposed to be eccentric and extremely gay
friendly, but Greg had his limits.

“Trust me, I’m almost a professional,” Nathaniel said in a serious

voice.

“Fine.” Greg held out his arms out. He closed his eyes and added

a dramatic sigh for effect. “Do your worst.”

* * * *

Nathaniel checked the drape of Greg’s toga. The material had a

hint of gray shimmer to it but was mostly a rich, royal blue. When
he’d bought the fabric he’d thought it would be too drab for the effect
Nathaniel was aiming for, but it suited Greg perfectly. With Greg’s
light skin and dark hair, anything flashier would have just drowned
him out. The more muted tones accentuated the span of his shoulders
and the aristocratic cut of his jaw.

He tied a gather at Greg’s hip and cut the ends off the cords. Then

he stepped back to consider what to do about makeup.

“How do I look?” Greg shuffled nervously, and his arms twitched

like he wanted to cross them. But he kept his hands at his sides like

Diva and the Frat Boy

Nathaniel had told him to, even though from time to time his fingers
twitched into fists.

“Hot, but you’re not allowed to look yet.” Nathaniel walked

around to Greg’s back and studied the set of his torso, analyzing what
the toga showed and what it hid and how best to create the illusion he
was going for. He wasn’t going to let Greg look in the mirror until it
was done.

“At least it’s not pink.” Greg’s laugh was obviously a cover for

how uncomfortable he was getting. But Nathaniel had a plan. The
poor boy had looked terrified and out of his element in a dress the
week before, but Nathaniel wanted to try something different,
something that worked with his appearance instead of against it.

“Of course it’s not pink, honey.” Nathaniel ran his hand up the

inside of Greg’s thigh to pinch his ass. Then he looked at his pile of
fabrics. “It would have to be a really pale shade to match your skin
tone, and unfortunately, I only brought fuchsia.”

Greg laughed at that. Then he asked, “You’re gonna buy me pink

ties someday, aren’t you?”

Nathaniel stopped breathing for a long second. What in the hell?

He and Greg weren’t a couple. They weren’t going to be a couple.
Guys like Greg did not date guys like Nathaniel. Nathaniel was
almost mad at Greg for insinuating he would.

Greg seemed to have realized what he said a moment too late,

because he backpedaled. “I mean, I could see you doing something
like that…for someone.” He let the sentence trail away, and Nathaniel
let the words fade into ether. Yeah, Greg would no doubt wear a suit
every day of his future career, and maybe he’d be with some guy who
bought him ties outside his comfort zone. But that was as far as it
went. Sure, Greg’s future partner might be flashier than Greg, but that
wasn’t a stretch. A lot of straight guys were flashier than Greg.

“I’d think pink shirts would be better.” Nathaniel kept his voice

light, pretending he wasn’t shaken by the turn of the conversation.
“Pinstripes.” Nathaniel rushed over to his makeup case.

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When Greg saw the eyebrow brush, he bit his lip.
“I swear you’ll look fab.” Nathaniel pulled out body paint in

shades of silver and gray. Encouraged by Greg’s suggestion, he even
gathered up some pink for emphasis and shading. Then he set to
work, fingers, sponges, and brushes moving as fast as he could before
Greg could change this mind.

He could tell that Greg was ticklish in some spots, especially

when Nathaniel smoothed some paint behind his shoulder blades. He
couldn’t resist running his fingers up Greg’s spine just to see the
limits of that tender area.

“What are you doing?” Greg tried to move, but Nathaniel held

him still with a death grip on his hip.

“You’ll mess me up.” He wasn’t planning to cover him with

makeup. After all, it was summer and too hot for pancake paint. But
after a few more minutes, Nathaniel stepped away and surveyed his
work.

He didn’t think it was an exaggeration to say Greg looked

amazing. Nathaniel had put a lot more effort into Greg’s outfit than
the other guys’, mostly because Greg was the only brother who’d let
him really go nuts. He’d painted sections of Greg’s body to look like
he was made of stone and then blended those areas with his regular
alabaster skin. The effect was amazing. He looked like an ancient
senator and a sex god all rolled into one. After all, Nathaniel had
always figured those Greeks had been packing serious heat under
their skirts.

“Can I look?”
Nathaniel shook his head, trying to break the spell. “Yeah. Yeah,

honey. Turn around.” He watched, worried about Greg’s reaction, as
Greg slowing rotated to the mirror.

Greg’s forehead crinkled for a second, but then the corner of his

mouth curled up into a slow grin. Greg tilted his chin slightly, as if he
didn’t quite want to preen but couldn’t help himself.

“You like?”

Diva and the Frat Boy

Greg reached for him but at the last minute just held Nathaniel’s

upper arms, trying not to smudge the paint. He stared down at
Nathaniel, his eyes filled with awe. “It’s amazing. Where did you
learn to do this?” He looked past Nathaniel to the mirror, and this
time Greg turned to the side to check out how the loose toga draped to
show the curve of his back. Apparently, he’d given up modesty.

Nathaniel blushed. “I’ve been doing theater work since high

school—set design, costuming. Plus, I like to watch that kind of thing
on TV.” He thought about all the episodes of RuPaul’s Drag Race
he’d seen but decided not to mention those to Greg.

“You’re really great.” Greg smiled at himself in the mirror. “Can’t

wait for Halloween. It’s gonna be fantastic.”

“You’re graduating, honey,” Nathaniel reminded him. He was

surprised to find that the thought made him sad. “You won’t be
around for Halloween.”

Greg caught his hand. “I’m only gonna be in Montpelier. And

there’s a pretty cool club there as far as I’ve heard.”

“Yeah, maybe, hon.” He didn’t know if Greg was suffering from

fear of graduation or what, so Nathaniel just shrugged.

“So, can I do you?” Greg looked sheepish as he scanned the

makeup laid out on his bed. “I don’t really know what I’m doing with
this stuff, but I’d like to try.”

Nathaniel gathered together the shades and equipment he needed

for his own outfit. He hadn’t even put together his toga, but he knew
that wouldn’t take long. “You can help with some of it.” He wasn’t
going to let Greg fuck up his look even if it was cuter than anything
that boring Greg Sanders wanted to wield foundation. “But let me get
on my toga first.” He pulled out a cut of material and flashed Greg a
grin. “I’m going as the naughty stable boy.”

Greg chuckled. “I thought the whole point of the toga thing was to

be noble.” He stepped up behind Nathaniel and wrapped his arms
around Nathaniel’s shoulders. He only managed to press a kiss onto
his head before Nathaniel slapped his hands away.

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“Let me get ready!” He hid his grin, quickly pulling his shirt up

over his head and stepping into his wrap. He had to giggle at Greg’s
disbelieving stare. “What? You think Greeks didn’t have slaves?”

“Um, not ones wearing shiny turquoise.”
Nathaniel rolled his eyes. “I’m sure they wore the hottest colors

their masters could afford to buy them.”

Greg scanned his body, and for a second Nathaniel felt self-

conscious. That didn’t happen very often, especially when he was
getting dressed up. But for some weird reason, Nathaniel found that
he actually cared what Greg thought.

“I’m gonna add some patches.” Nathaniel rubbed areas of

shimmering blue and green over his skin—as if he was dirty from
sleeping in a barn filled with fairy dust. He thought about adding a
fake bruise or two but figured Greg would find that too extreme.
Anyway, Nathaniel knew he was only itching to try out the new
horror-makeup tricks he’d seen on a film documentary the day before.
Truth was, he couldn’t wait for Halloween, either.

“Er…you can do my face if you want.” He was getting flustered

by the feel of Greg’s eyes on him and by the way Greg was roaming
his hands over Nathaniel’s stash of makeup as if he couldn’t decide
on a weapon.

“What about a brand?” Greg lifted a silver makeup pencil, thick

enough to write blocky lines and a light enough color to show up on
Nathaniel’s skin.

Nathaniel raised an eyebrow.
Greg’s smile was wicked. “If you were a slave at my home,

wouldn’t I have marked you somehow?”

Butterflies flitted around in Nathaniel’s belly. Of course—it was

all part of the costume, and it had been Nathaniel’s idea to go for the
whole slave-boy vibe. In fact, he would have thought the branding
thing was funny and kind of fabulous if it weren’t for the intense look
in Greg’s eyes.

Diva and the Frat Boy

“How about it?” Greg tilted his head, studying Nathaniel’s

expression.

There was no way Nathaniel could back down. He tossed his head

back and put his hands on his hips, though he knew the stance didn’t
make him any broader or taller. “Where d’you wanna put it, honey?”

Greg cocked his eyebrows. His gaze slid to Nathaniel’s hip, and

for a moment Nathaniel assumed he was going to write a little heart
on Nathaniel’s ass. That would have been cute—and something
Nathaniel would completely be able to handle. But as if Greg knew
what Nathaniel was thinking, he shook his head. “Here.” He rubbed
the back of his hand over Nathaniel’s deltoid. Since Nathaniel was
planning to wear only a loincloth, everyone at the party would be able
to see.

“Do your worst.” He held out his arm but then stopped Greg’s

hand. “And by that, I mean draw whatever you want, but don’t make
it ugly. Because I will wash it off and make you start again if you
mess up.”

Greg made a sound in between a snort and a laugh, and he

wrapped his hand around Nathaniel’s upper arm. His fingers were
strong and his touch sure, but when the crayon met his flesh, Greg
hesitated. “You sure?”

Nathaniel nodded. He twitched when the pencil scraped down his

arm. Greg worked slowly and deliberately, writing in long, flowing
lines. When he finally lifted the pencil off and looked at his work, he
ran his fingertip gently over his drawing, and that light touch stung.
He hadn’t been rough, but those pencils were made with wax that
stayed hard until it made contact with a person’s body.

“It’s a little red around the edges. Is that okay?” Greg couldn’t

seem to stop touching his handiwork, and though he looked
concerned, he also looked pleased.

Nathaniel tried to force words past his suddenly dry lips. “Yeah.

You just pressed a little hard. Not easy working those pencils at first.”
He rotated slowly to look in the mirror and saw that Greg had written

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GES in calligraphy. The letters were neat and graceful and covered
his deltoid without being garish. And though he’d never seen a brand
in real life and didn’t even know if anyone ever branded or tattooed
their servants in ancient Greece, he thought it looked pretty good.

“You like?” Greg met Nathaniel’s gaze in the mirror.
“Um, yeah.” Nathaniel rushed to brush some iridescent power

over his cheeks, and then he leaned forward to do his eyes, blocking
Greg out. He needed them to leave the room before they fell into bed
and ruined his carefully orchestrated costume design. Plus, he needed
a little breathing room from Greg. He packed his makeup back in his
kit. “We should get going, or we’re gonna be late.”

Behind him, he felt Greg move nearer, as if he was going to touch

Nathaniel’s back or kiss his neck. But he didn’t. He just backed away
and said, “Yeah, let’s do this.”

Diva and the Frat Boy

Chapter Five

Greg couldn’t believe how much thought Nathaniel had put into

the toga-party decorations. He looked around at the rows of
candelabras and the fake Roman columns. Greg had been to previous
incarnations of the party, and none had been a fraction as cool.

“This is amazing.” He set a bowl of chips on the snack table. Even

the plastic bowls had ornate decorations and had been chosen to gel
with the toga theme.

“Why, thank you, honey.” Nathaniel flashed him a coy wink.
The guests were starting to filter in through the house’s front

doors, and since attendants had bought tickets ahead of time, the
process went more quickly than it had at the caff party. It seemed as if
the place went from almost empty to packed in a matter of minutes.

Greg hung out by the front door greeting the guests, and Nathaniel

stayed by his side chatting and people watching.

After most of the house had filled to a comfortable level of

crowded, Greg tugged at the edge of Nathaniel’s loincloth, urging him
away from their station. He’d known Nathaniel wanted to stand
around watching as each new partygoer’s jaw dropped over the
decorations, but Greg wanted to grab a beer before the reporters
arrived.

“D’you want a drink?” He gestured in the direction of the kegs.
Nathaniel looked shy, which was unusual for Nathaniel. “It’s

good, right?”

He didn’t know why Nathaniel needed validation all of a sudden.

After all, Greg and the guys from the house had already
complimented him several times on the decorations, on their

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costumes, on everything. But he sensed that Nathaniel needed these
last words of praise for another reason. Maybe not just to prove to
himself that he’d done a good job but to make sure other people
thought it had been a job worth doing.

Greg wrapped Nathaniel in a hug as best he could without ruining

either of their carefully applied makeup. “Yeah,” he breathed in
Nathaniel’s ear. “Yeah, it’s super, Nat. You’re the man.” He felt
Nathaniel shift as the front door opened again. He figured that Nat
wanted to see if the next round of partygoers would be as impressed
as the last.

Brad Chesterson stepped inside followed by a few of his friends.

They surveyed the space with as much awe as everyone else. But
when their gazes landed on Greg and Nathaniel, their impressed looks
shifted to amusement.

“Wow.” Brad walked across the room to the snack table and

grabbed a handful of popcorn. He popped a couple kernels in his
mouth before snickering at Greg. “How the hell did he talk you into
wearing that?”

Behind Brad, the others shot Greg looks of disdain before roaming

off, probably in search of beer. All of them wore basic togas and not a
hint of makeup.

“Nathaniel was doing the decorations for the party, and we wanted

to um…match.” Greg didn’t know why he didn’t just tell Brad he
liked the way he was dressed. Yeah, sure—it wasn’t something you’d
wear out in the middle of the day or to a job interview. But it was a
costume party, during his very own graduation week. With all the
beads and costumes and drinks going around Eta Xi, it may as well
have been Mardi Gras. And though he couldn’t bring himself to say it,
Greg didn’t quite understand Brad’s problem.

“Oh.” Brad looked Nathaniel up and down, his gaze judgmental.

Greg was glad to see that Nathaniel had the confidence to glare at
him.

Diva and the Frat Boy

Brad scratched his nose and then coughed in his hand as if he was

saying something rude under his breath. It sounded suspiciously like
“trash.”

Nathaniel only lifted an eyebrow at Brad and said, “Nice sheet.”
Greg watched Brad’s eyes widen then narrow, and he thought

Brad would snap at Nathaniel, but instead Brad turned to Greg and
asked, “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

“Sure.” Greg touched Nathaniel’s arm, wordlessly letting him

know he’d be right back. Greg didn’t want to lose track of Nathaniel
at the party. He wasn’t sure when the Queer Vermont editor was
going to show up and didn’t want Nathaniel saying something
awkward to the guy.

He fell in step behind Brad and followed toward the kitchens. And

when the pair of them had cleared the door, Greg spun around. “So,
what’s the issue?”

Brad rolled his shoulders carelessly. “Why are you still hanging

out with that guy?”

Greg leaned back against the counter. “I like him. Is that a

problem?” He wished he was out in the party. Not just because he
wanted to watch out for what Nathaniel might say. Greg wanted to be
laughing and dancing with Nathaniel, especially as he didn’t know
how much longer the younger guy was going to be staying on campus
after the toga party. Greg could drive down to visit him over the
summer, but he still had another couple weeks at Holsum packing and
wrapping things up after the party.

“Don’t you think you’re leading him on?”
“What?” Greg recoiled. “About what? He knows he didn’t get

asked to join, and…” Greg caught the nervous dart of Brad’s gaze,
and his breath rushed out of him. “Dude, are you serious? Rob hasn’t
called him yet?”

Brad flinched at Greg’s tone. “No, dude. Rob wasn’t going to call

until they all went home for the summer. We decided—”

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“You decided without talking to me about it? I’m fucking

president.”

“You were president.” Brad crossed to the refrigerator and started

picking through the dining hall’s food. “Rob’s president now, and we
all thought it would make more sense to call the pledges when they
weren’t on campus anymore.”

“Motherfucker.” Greg slammed his hand down on the counter.

He’d been thinking he and Nat had started fooling around on equal
footing, that nothing that happened between them was about
Nathaniel’s bid to join Eta Xi. Now…Well, now Greg had no fucking
idea what Nathaniel thought.

“Hey, it’s not like you asked him if he knew.” Brad tried to turn it

around and make the whole thing Greg’s fault, as if Greg didn’t
already feel like the world’s biggest ass. “Go ahead and tell him he
got rejected.” Brad gave him a withering look. “See if your little piece
of tail is so eager for a ride once he knows.”

“Fuck.” Greg rubbed his face, but he pulled his hand away at the

last minute for fear of screwing up his makeup. He closed his eyes,
unwilling to so much as look at Brad. “Fuck, I will.” Greg pushed off
the counter, pacing to the door. “I’ll tell him right after the party.”

He strode out ahead of Brad. But when Greg looked through the

dining hall to the entryway he saw, to his horror, that Nathaniel was
talking to a reporter and a camera man, his arms waving dramatically.

Greg jogged over to mitigate the damage. “Hey!” He cleared his

throat. Coming to a stop in front of Nathaniel and the guy with a
notepad, Greg held out his hand. “Hello, I’m Greg Sanders. I take it
you’re from Queer Vermont?”

“Jordan Smith.” The reporter nodded, looking around the frat. He

appeared to be in his midtwenties, only a few years older than Greg.
But unlike all the partygoers who wore togas, he was dressed in khaki
trousers and a short-sleeved shirt. “Looks like things are getting lively
here. Do you mind if I set my guy out to take some pictures?” He

Diva and the Frat Boy

gestured to the cameraman—a man who looked to be in his forties
with a beer belly and a disgruntled expression.

Greg guessed he was a little old to be out so late. Or maybe he just

didn’t like college kids.

“Nathaniel, Greg, this is Bill.” Jordan introduced everyone. “He’ll

be taking the pictures. We’ve decided to go with candids for the
article. Thought that would make it more dynamic.”

“Oh.” Greg frowned. He’d assumed he was going to be

photographed. It embarrassed him to think it, but he’d sort of been
looking forward to the exposure. “That’s fine.” He watched as the
unhappy-looking Bill walked off through the throng of people. Greg
wasn’t sure how anyone was going to have fun with that guy
crouched at their feet taking pictures. Then again, it wouldn’t be long
before everyone was drunk. Hell, as soon as Greg could finish this
interview, he would join them.

“So, Greg—what effect do you think Eta Xi has on queer life on

campus?” Jordan tilted his head and pulled a pen out of his messenger
bag. He seemed less interested than business minded. Like he wanted
to get some good sound bites and then get the hell back home to his
life.

Greg had no idea what to say. At that moment he wanted to

answer that Eta Xi drove people apart, picking and choosing whom
they did and didn’t want, creating an underclass among an already
disenfranchised group. But the lawyer in him told him to zip his
mouth shut.

Nathaniel piped up. “Oh, Eta Xi is great! They throw the best

parties on campus. Hell, straight boys wish they could draw in the
crowd Eta Xi pulls.”

“Um…” Greg tried to stem the tide of Nathaniel’s mouth vomit.

He struggled to remember the talking points he’d written down for
this interview. “Yes, our parties are well attended. But we also do a
lot of volunteer work in the community—”

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Jordan cut him off. “So, Nathaniel, how would you say the

campus sees Eta Xi? Are the ‘straight boys’ cool with your presence?
Do they come to your parties? Do you go to theirs?”

Greg blinked. He wasn’t sure why Jordan was interviewing

Nathaniel instead of him, but he didn’t know how to answer the
question. So he just pretended to listen calmly as Nathaniel started
gesticulating wildly about how a lot of straight boys weren’t as
straight as they seemed and how plenty of them liked to go “on safari”
at Eta Xi parties. Greg wondered if it was possible to self-destruct
from embarrassment.

“You don’t actively encourage this, do you?” Jordan pumped his

eyebrows at Nathaniel as if he was titillated by the idea.

But Greg had a horrid, sinking feeling that Jordan was trying to

lure Nathaniel into saying something that would bring shame down on
the frat. “No! We are friendly with the campus community, but
nothing more.” He stepped partially in front of Nathaniel, like he
could stop Nat from talking. “I’m sure everyone feels completely,
um…safe and respected at our parties.”

Jordan’s eyes glazed over. “Yes. Yeah, I’m sure you’re a

welcoming community where everyone can join together…”

Greg nodded vehemently and launched into the phrases he’d

memorized for the interview. “Brotherhood” and “compassion” and
“equality and egalitarianism” blurted from his mouth while in the
background Nathaniel tried to interject “jocks!” and “hot sex!”

Honestly, by the time Jordan held up a hand to get the two of them

to stop talking, Greg had no idea what he’d said. He only knew that
he wished Nathaniel would have taken the hint and shut the hell up.

Unfortunately, when Bill trundled back to Jordan, the reporter

asked one more question. “So, how did you guys end up together?
Nathaniel, you’re a pledge here, right?”

Greg died inside. He literally shut down. Nathaniel said some

things about…something. But Greg couldn’t listen. Because by the
time the article hit the stands, Nathaniel would know he wasn’t

Diva and the Frat Boy

getting into Eta Xi. And most likely, he and Greg wouldn’t be a
couple. And that just sucked, because Greg wanted them to be a
couple—frat or no. But he didn’t know if Nathaniel would be able to
stand the sight of him once he found out the truth.

“Awesome.” Jordan smiled at whatever it was that Nathaniel had

just said. He closed his notebook and gazed at them with the first real
smile Greg had seen from him. “Well, I hope you guys make it work.
Seriously.” He smacked Greg and then Nathaniel’s hand in good-bye.
And then Bill, looking marginally in a better mood, said, “G’night”
and followed Jordan to the door.

Greg watched them go, feeling his shoulders roll forward in

defeat. Somewhere in the background, he was aware of Nathaniel
saying, “Well, that was fun,” but Greg was already heading toward
the kegs.

* * * *

The music was mellower in the backmost room of the party where

Greg had hidden. He raised his beer to his lips, wondering how many
he’d had, but he couldn’t quite remember. When Nathaniel tugged his
hand one more time, gesturing at the door to the rest of the party,
Greg shook his head.

“Are you sure you still want that?” Nathaniel glared at his beer.
Greg didn’t realize he’d clutched it to his chest until he felt a bit

of it splash on his skin. He rushed to wipe it off. But then he saw the
hurt look on Nathaniel’s face and tried to act sober. “This’ll be the
last, I promise.”

Nathaniel gave him a look that could melt paint and gently pried

the cup out of Greg’s hand. “Honey, what is up your ass?”

“Why do you like me?” Greg winced, realizing he’d said those

words out loud. He wondered if he could find some way to backtrack,
but Nathaniel had already tilted his head and was studying Greg’s
expression suspiciously.

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“Why do you ask?” Nathaniel set Greg’s beer down on a nearby

table.

“Oh…” Greg shifted his toga in what he hoped was a manly

fashion. “Oh, uh…I just…” He couldn’t say what he was thinking. He
couldn’t admit he worried Nathaniel had only hooked up with him
because he thought Greg would get him into Eta Xi. Or that maybe he
wasn’t 100 percent sure why he liked Nathaniel, either. They seemed
wrong together, and yet he wanted Nathaniel so bad it made his teeth
hurt.

“Hey, Greg Sanders!” A long-haired, toga-wearing sophomore

saved Greg from having to explain. He stumbled in his direction from
the other side of the room. “Cool about Queer Vermont, dude!
Awesome.” The kid seemed pretty much straight from whatever the
hell Greg knew, but that didn’t mean anything. Everyone on campus
had been impressed about the coverage of the toga party.

“Nice to meet you.” Greg held out his hand. He wondered, once

he saw the smirk on the sophomore’s face, if he’d come off a little
fake.

“You want some, man?” The sophomore lifted a tray of Jell-O

shapes in Greg’s face. They were no doubt alcoholic.

“Sure.” Greg didn’t normally do shots, Jell-O or otherwise. But he

popped a few slippery chunks between his lips. When he swallowed,
Greg caught a glimpse of Nathaniel’s shocked expression. Nat looked
pissed and judgmental—two emotions he’d never before seen on
Nathaniel’s face. Well, screw him, too, then. Greg plucked another
four or five pieces and shoved them in his mouth, hardly chewing
before he swallowed. He gestured for Nathaniel to eat a few.

“No thanks, honey.” Nathaniel rolled his eyes.
Greg couldn’t tell why Nathaniel was annoyed. Didn’t Nathaniel

think Greg was boring? Isn’t that why Nathaniel had always pushed
him away until he decided to pledge Eta Xi? Well, now Greg was
partying, like Nathaniel always did, and Nathaniel had no right to be
pissed.

Diva and the Frat Boy

With a scoff, Greg grabbed his beer and finished the half glass in

a few swallows. Then he stood up to get more. The world blurred
around the edges, and Greg wondered when Nathaniel had become so
darn funny. In fact, Greg thought as the lights started to swirl around
him, he had a lot better sense of humor than he thought. He couldn’t
stop giggling.

“C’mon…” Nathaniel dragged Greg out of the room and down the

hallway to the party’s main room and the dance floor. Though Greg’s
feet were underneath him, he was surprised to find that Nathaniel
seemed to be holding him up. He couldn’t seem to focus on anything.

“Honey, you are wasted.”
Greg tried to pull Nathaniel close and sway with the music, but

somehow he lost his balance and stumbled, almost knocking
Nathaniel over. “Oh, sorry.” He blinked back his confusion. Was he
really that drunk? Greg couldn’t quite remember how that had
happened…

“Your room. Now.” Nathaniel’s words were clipped and his face

tight as he half carried, half dragged Greg toward the stairs. Greg
worried that Nathaniel was mad, but he couldn’t tell if it was real or if
he was being paranoid.

“I’m sorry, Nat.” He reached to stroke Nathaniel’s cheek, but his

hand landed somewhere around his neck. For whatever reason, Greg’s
legs seemed to be working, though, carrying him up the stairs so long
as Nathaniel steered. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out. You’re a really
great guy.”

“It’s okay, Greg.” It might have been the first time Nathaniel said

Greg’s name out loud, but that could have been Greg’s imagination as
well. “I shouldn’t have expected anything else.” Nathaniel hitched
Greg’s arm over his shoulder, and it was only then that Greg realized
how fully he’d been leaning into Nathaniel’s side.

“What?” Greg couldn’t formulate a cohesive question. “What do

you mean?” He was confused, but he didn’t know if it was because
Nathaniel was being unclear or because he was so fucking drunk. He

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was just starting to spiral into a panic attack about how drunk he was
when Nathaniel said, “I should have known that you’d freak out about
the costume.”

“I didn’t freak.” Greg plucked at the front of his toga.
Nathaniel may have rolled his eyes. It was hard for Greg to tell

since he couldn’t lift his head. He was aware, though, that Nathaniel
had opened the door to his bedroom and was dragging him through to
his bed.

When Nathaniel finally spoke, it was so soft that Greg almost

didn’t hear it. “Guys who look like you have it so easy. You’ve never
even been called a fag, have you?” The way Nathaniel said it, the
words sounded like a quiet musing, as if he was talking to himself and
not to Greg.

“No.” Greg thought about it. No one had ever said that to him.

And maybe that was because he’d only known he was gay since his
sophomore year in college. Kids threw around slurs like that in junior
high and high school. He frowned at his feet, still unable to suss out
why he was still standing. “People don’t even say stuff like that.”

Nathaniel stopped just short of Greg’s bed, and the rapid change

of movement caused Greg to trip and fall onto the mattress.

“Um, honey? Yeah. They do. At guys like me, they do.” Nathaniel

cocked his head forward aggressively. “Don’t you know that?”

Greg squinted. He studied every bit of Nathaniel, as if whatever

Nathaniel was trying to explain to him was etched in the hollow at the
base of his neck or in the diagonal slant of his hipbone. He didn’t
know what Nathaniel was talking about, but that line low on
Nathaniel’s belly was so intriguing that Greg couldn’t stop staring,
and next thing he knew, Greg was reaching out to touch the top edge
of Nathaniel’s loincloth.

“Stop it.” Nathaniel slapped his hand away. And Greg wanted to

hear a lilting tease in the sentiment, but he wasn’t sure he did. “Greg!”
Nathaniel grabbed his face, forcing Greg to look him straight in the

Diva and the Frat Boy

eyes. His expression was stonily serious, so intense that Greg wished
he could look away.

“People say it to me, Greg. A lot.” Nathaniel gave him a shake.

“Probably a lot more than a guy like you could imagine.”

For a second, Greg tried to process what Nathaniel was trying to

tell him. It had something to do with antigay slurs, but though Greg
felt bad for Nathaniel, he didn’t understand what it had to do with
him. “I’m sorry.” He would have rubbed Nathaniel’s arm or his back,
but he didn’t seem to have the coordination. Nathaniel was dragging
his clothes off and feeding his legs into boxers. Truly, Greg felt
horrible that Nathaniel had been the object of bullying. But it’s not
like Greg had done it. Hell, whenever his friends in high school had
picked on a kid they thought was gay or weak or nerdy, Greg had
simply walked away.

Greg remembered a cool cloth washing the makeup off his face.

There were glimpses after that of Nathaniel’s scowling face as he
pressed Greg back onto his bed, of his concerned expression as he
forced Greg to drink glass after glass of water. Greg woke up to pee
twice in the night, and both times he remembered Nathaniel’s warm
body when he got back to his bed.

Nathaniel never seemed to wake up, even when Greg shuffled

close to his side. Greg’s still-paranoid mind thought that maybe
Nathaniel was faking sleep or even that he’d shivered at some point in
the night like he was crying. But when Greg woke up in the morning,
his bed was empty. And Nathaniel, if he’d ever been there at all, was
gone.

Daisy Harris

Chapter Six

His phone rang again. Nathaniel tried to ignore it, but after a half-

dozen insistent jangles, he reached to his nightstand to check who was
calling. The room was dark, but around the edges of paper on his
windows, he saw the sun shining bright. The digital clock on his
stereo said 11:45 a.m. Still, Nathaniel reserved the right to be
annoyed. He’d never been a morning person.

The screen read “Greg Sanders,” and Nathaniel cursed that he’d

ever entered Greg as a contact. He could have ignored the number
otherwise.

“Hello?” He let every ounce of his annoyance at being woken up

permeate his voice.

“Um, hey.” Greg paused, as if he was waiting for Nathaniel to say

it was okay that he was calling so early or that he was calling at all.

Nathaniel didn’t have the energy for a showdown. “Done being

hungover yet?” The toga party had been the day before last, but
Nathaniel hadn’t stuck around to witness the aftereffect. At least not
any longer than it took to make sure Greg wasn’t going to die of
alcohol poisoning.

“Yeah.” Greg sounded embarrassed, or at least as embarrassed as

a guy could sound in a one-syllable word. “Was a little sick the next
day but felt mostly okay by nighttime.”

Nathaniel rolled onto his back, staring at his ceiling. It had

reflective star and moon stickers stuck to it—a product of one of the
occupants who had come before him. Still, the decals had seemed like
the type of thing Nathaniel would have put up, so he’d left them on
the ceiling. Whenever someone asked, he’d said they were his. “Well,

Diva and the Frat Boy

I’m glad to hear you didn’t spend the day with your head in the
toilet.”

“No. Was a little close there. I ate some runny eggs and went back

to bed.”

Nathaniel smiled reluctantly. He’d never had a hangover, but he

knew the usual remedies. The way he dressed, a lot of kids around
campus assumed he was a huge partier. But Nathaniel was normally a
lot more sober than anyone else. It wasn’t so much that he didn’t
enjoy drinking, but he knew how a lot of guys—gay and straight—
treated him when they were wasted, and he never wanted to be in a
position not to have the upper hand.

Greg’s voice was tentative when he said, “Wish you’d been

there.”

And though Nathaniel knew what he meant, he asked, “At

breakfast?” He stayed quiet, wondering if Greg was going to use the
opportunity for the cop-out. He’d pretty much given up on Greg that
night. Yeah, the boy was cute, but he obviously couldn’t handle a
single harsh glance from one of his frat buddies. Nathaniel didn’t feel
angry at Greg so much as he felt sorry for him. Everyone thought
Greg was so strong and brave—the face of gay life on campus. But
the truth was Greg needed everyone’s approval like he needed to
breathe.

“No.” Greg bit the word out, his voice firmer. “In my bed.”
Nathaniel wished his pulse didn’t beat a fraction harder in his

throat. “Well, I’m sure you would have been in no shape to take
advantage of the situation if I was.”

A pause. Then a cocky chuckle. “I wouldn’t be so sure about

that.” His voice was flirty and confident and so not what Nathaniel
wanted to hear at that moment.

“What do you want, honey?” He had a feeling he knew, and

Nathaniel wasn’t looking forward to hearing it.

“I need to talk to you about something,” Greg said seriously. “You

want to grab coffee in town?”

Daisy Harris

Nathaniel waited a beat before answering. All his belongings were

packed in boxes strewn around his dorm room, and Chris and Peter
had already left for the summer. He certainly had nothing better to do.
“Fine.” At the very least, Greg would probably pay, and Nathaniel
was out of both meal points and cash.

“Should I come over your way?”
“I guess.” Nathaniel didn’t like the idea of Greg seeing his room.

“I’ll meet you outside in twenty.” He wasn’t fussed about being on
time. After Greg’s performance at the toga party, Greg could wait
until Nathaniel was good and ready.

“Great. I’ll be there.” Greg hung up, and Nathaniel took his sweet

time getting out of bed and trudging to the shower. The dorm was
practically empty and had a lonely, dusty feel.

When he’d finished showering, he ran a razor over his chin,

though he didn’t know why he bothered. He was tired of trying to
look good for guys who didn’t matter. Unfortunately, Nathaniel was
too vain to do anything else.

It had been at least thirty minutes by the time Nathaniel got out of

his dorm, but Greg was standing against a tree in the courtyard,
wearing cargos and a polo shirt, reading something on his phone, and
looking preppy as all get-out. And for the first time, Nathaniel wished
he didn’t know what lay underneath. He wished he’d never seen the
other Greg—sensual and sexy and toppy—because then he wouldn’t
miss him.

“Hey, Nat.” Greg crossed a few steps to join him. His arm went

up like he meant to pull Nathaniel into a hug, but at the last minute he
seemed confused as to what he’d meant to do and dropped his fists to
his sides. He leaned forward to kiss Nathaniel’s cheek, though
Nathaniel pulled away at the last minute so Greg’s lips landed on his
ear.

“Hey, honey.” Nathaniel couldn’t meet Greg’s eyes.
Greg led the way toward one of the campus lots where only

seniors were allowed to park. “Didn’t see you at the Bakersfield party

Diva and the Frat Boy

last night.” Greg held up his keys and clicked open a newer-model
SUV. Nathaniel had heard that Greg’s parents had money and Greg
had taken a whole year off school to study abroad between junior and
senior years. Greg’s car reaffirmed his rich-kid status.

“I decided to stay in.” It was a ridiculous thing to say since

Nathaniel’s room was in shambles. He’d spent the night playing
around on social networking sites and watching videos on his laptop.
Nathaniel refused to consider it sulking.

“I get that.” Greg climbed in the front seat and waited until

Nathaniel got in the passenger side before starting the car. He smiled.
“I only went to see if you were there. Was so hungover I only stayed
until eleven.”

Nathaniel felt his face heat. He didn’t know why Greg was doing

this—acting like he was in love with Nathaniel or something.
Nathaniel refused to acknowledge Greg’s comment about going to a
party to see him. After all, Greg had his number. He could have
called. “So when are you heading to law school?”

“I’m storing my stuff at my new apartment next week, but then

I’ll be in DC for the summer. We could meet up.” When Greg talked
about them getting together he seemed markedly more nervous. His
long fingers twitched on the steering wheel, and his knee bounced.

Nathaniel didn’t feel any need to make things easier for him. “I

don’t have a car.” Of course, DC was a short train ride from
Baltimore, but Nathaniel was grasping at excuses to end whatever
they had before it got any more awkward.

“I have a car,” Greg said quietly. He kept his eyes on the road. It

was a five minute drive to the college town’s center, and he parked
easily in a diagonal spot in front of the café. Greg turned off the
engine, but when Nathaniel reached to unfasten his seat belt, Greg
caught his hand. “Nat.” He took a deep breath. “You’re not getting
asked to join Eta Xi.”

“What?” Nathaniel blinked. He felt like the floor had been pulled

out from under him, but somehow…somehow he felt like he’d

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already known. Or that he’d known all along. At the very least, he
wasn’t surprised. Nathaniel knew how some of the guys at the frat
looked at him.

He turned away from Greg, focusing his gaze out the window.

“Oh…Okay.”

“I wanted you in.” Greg tried to touch his arm, but Nathaniel

flinched.

“Yeah, I know you did.” Nathaniel nodded. Greg had been the one

who encouraged him to join. And Greg wasn’t the type to vote against
him just to be a dick.

“And I…” Greg’s voice cracked. When he touched Nathaniel

again, Nathaniel let him. “I thought you knew. I mean, I thought
you’d been told already before we hooked up.”

Nathaniel chuckled under his breath. It was so typical for Greg to

split hairs over who knew what when. Nathaniel pinned him with a
glare. “Who the fuck cares when you knew?”

Greg recoiled, his expression pissed. “I care. I wasn’t going to…”

He shook his head, like he was disgusted. “I wasn’t going to hook up
with you while you were still a pledge.”

“Too bad.” Nathaniel rolled his eyes. “’Cause that was the only

time I woulda hooked up with you.” Nathaniel regretted the words as
soon as he’d said them. He’d meant to sound funny, not cruel.
Sometimes Nathaniel forgot that guys who looked like Greg could
feel pain, too. Nathaniel reached out to touch Greg’s arm. “Hey, I
didn’t mean—”

“No, it’s fine.” Greg rubbed his face as if he was trying to scrub

away his hurt feelings. “Um…do you still want to have breakfast?”

Nathaniel stared out the window for a second, feeling like a

complete shit for having been so mean. He tried to make his voice as
nice as possible when he said, “Yeah. I’d like that. But Greg—”

Greg opened the door and stepped out of the SUV before

Nathaniel could get out the words. Greg led the way into the café.

Diva and the Frat Boy

While Nathaniel stood behind Greg in line, he noticed how his

shoulders seemed set in a rigid line and also how cute his butt looked
in those shorts. Nathaniel wished they were alone so he could say
“sorry” or “I didn’t mean it” or something to take the tension out of
Greg’s jaw. Nathaniel touched the small of Greg’s back, not an
obvious caress but enough that Greg would know he was there. “I’d
like a breakfast sandwich and a latte.”

Greg relaxed a fraction, leaning into Nathaniel’s touch. And

Nathaniel couldn’t help but close his eyes. Maybe he hadn’t screwed
things up irrevocably. After all, Greg must’ve known he was just
pissed when he said that. Nathaniel fished a few dollars out of his
pocket, but as he’d expected, Greg smiled and pushed Nathaniel’s
money away. His eyes were less hurt when he said, “It’s on me, Nat. I
invited you, right?”

The smile he’d been fighting broke out across Nathaniel’s face.

He batted his eyelashes, trying to say with his expression what Greg
didn’t seem to want to hear out loud. He was sorry he’d lashed out,
and Nathaniel grinned to think maybe Greg wasn’t too mad.

“Excuse me.” The heavyset guy behind them in line gestured to

the barista. “Could you move, already?” His tone was belligerent and
his stance aggressive, and Nathaniel sensed that his impatience had
less to do with wanting to put in an order and more to do with the
looks Nathaniel and Greg shared.

“Oh, sorry, sir.” Greg ducked his head and apologized to the

person.

Nathaniel tried to remember that pushy guy might have his own

problems and might not have even noticed that the two of them were
gay. Maybe he was imagining the disgusted curl to his lip. Yeah,
right…

They left the counter and sat across from each other at one of the

café’s small tables. The place only had a handful of seats, and
Nathaniel found himself wishing they’d gone to the diner out on the
highway where he and Greg could have hidden in a booth.

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“Not hungry?” Greg asked, and it was only then that Nathaniel

realized he was still holding his wax-paper bag in his hand and hadn’t
even sipped his coffee.

“Sorry, just distracted, hon.” Nathaniel shook his head a little,

trying to stop obsessing about the guy who’d snapped at them in line.
Unfortunately, he’d taken a seat next to the counter near the window,
only a few feet away.

Nathaniel wasn’t going to let a grumpy guy ruin his morning or

his sandwich. He opened his bag and took a bite, tasting the delicious
combination of eggs, salt, and grease. It was heaven. But then the guy
sitting by the window let out a loud and obvious harrumph and shook
out his paper.

Nathaniel rolled his eyes. No one was making the guy drink his

coffee at the café. He could easily leave. But Nathaniel had been
through this type of routine before. The guy wouldn’t go. He’d be a
dick until he embarrassed Nathaniel and Greg into leaving. And the
truth was, in most instances, Nathaniel would have given up and
skulked out. On his own, he would rather feel comfortable than win
some kind of battle of wills against a stranger. But in front of Greg, he
couldn’t. He couldn’t let Greg witness his humiliation.

“Um, Nat?” Greg leaned forward on his elbows and spoke low

into Nathaniel’s ear. “Could you maybe dial it down a notch? Maybe
not cross your legs like that?”

The guy chose that minute to turn and stare at them head-on, his

eyes narrowed. It was only for a second or two before the guy looked
away, but the expression of scorn had been palpable.

To make matters worse, Greg winced.
Nathaniel looked down at his outfit. He’d dressed casual for

breakfast, in jean shorts and a striped crewneck. But Nathaniel knew
in a deep place in his heart that he wasn’t fooling anyone. He didn’t
sit right. He didn’t talk right. He just didn’t move right. And if Greg
were there with one of his Eta Xi brothers, the guy probably wouldn’t
have noticed Greg was queer.

Diva and the Frat Boy

His face hot and his muscles tensing, Nathaniel chewed his

breakfast sandwich, though it tasted like cardboard. Then he washed it
down with his lukewarm coffee. Nathaniel sat there, wanting to melt
into a puddle of nothing in the chair. After a long and uncomfortable
silence, he tapped Greg’s arm to get his attention. “I’m gonna head
back to school.” He heard the jerk at the window’s amused snort, but
he didn’t give a shit if the guy thought he’d won.

Greg looked at him with thunderous eyes as if to ask, What’s your

problem?

Nathaniel just shook his head. “I need some exercise. I’ll walk

back to campus.” He stood up before Greg had a chance to argue, and
he didn’t miss the way the guy at the window muttered “fucking fag”
as he walked past.

He forced one breath then another as he hauled open the door and

stepped onto the sidewalk. Then Nathaniel gathered as much dignity
as he could muster and headed back to school.

Daisy Harris

Chapter Seven

Greg knew he shouldn’t check his texts while driving, but still he

activated his cell phone.

There weren’t any new messages.
He fixed his attention on the wide stretch of highway that led from

Washington DC to Baltimore. I-95 was a straight shot, and cars and
trucks streamed along beside him, doing eighty. When the exit
appeared on his right, Greg slowed for the ramp, and it occurred to
him that maybe it had been creepy of him to beg Nathaniel’s home
address out of Peter. After all, Greg had gotten the information under
false pretenses. He’d said he just wanted to send Nathaniel a letter.

Though frankly, it wasn’t exactly Greg’s fault Peter had accepted

the lie. Nobody wrote letters anymore. And it wasn’t like Greg was
seeking Nathaniel out for nefarious purposes. He just couldn’t let
things stay the way they’d ended between him and Nathaniel. He
needed to say he was sorry. Or maybe “I still want you.” Or “I wish
you wanted me.” Fuck, he had no idea what he was going to say…

Greg drove through the Baltimore suburbs. The area wasn’t as

run-down as a lot of Baltimore, but the houses were much smaller and
less attractive than they were near his home in DC. On some level,
Greg understood that the part of town still counted as “middle class,”
though it was definitely the opposite end of the middle from where
Greg had grown up.

After scanning the street signs a few times and doubling back,

Greg finally located the house number Peter had given him for
Nathaniel. Greg slid into a parking space and drew to a stop and then
studied the squat 1970s bungalow.

Diva and the Frat Boy

When Greg finally worked up the courage to climb out of his car,

he wondered if he could set his car’s alarm without the loud beep that
always happened when he pushed the button on his key fob. There
was an older man wearing black socks with shorts and a wifebeater T-
shirt pushing a lawn mower in the yard next to Nathaniel’s and, stupid
as it was, Greg was embarrassed to be a recent college grad with a car
fancy enough to have an alarm in such a modest neighborhood.

In the end, his fear of burglary won out, and he pressed the button,

wincing as the loud beep-beep echoed down the quiet block.

As if to underline Greg’s worry, socks-and-shorts guy looked up

from his work.

Greg waved until the guy went back to his mowing. Then he

trudged up the walkway to Nathaniel’s front door. There were fake
flowers in hanging pots, their riot of color fading. Even Greg thought
they were tacky as hell, and he couldn’t help but snicker under his
breath at how much Nathaniel must hate those plants. Then, while his
mood was light and he could get up the courage, Greg knocked on the
door.

He waited for what seemed like a long time but might only have

been a minute. The door opened to reveal a Caucasian lady who
looked to be in her sixties. For a split second Greg wondered if she
was the housekeeper or a friend of the family, but then he noticed her
housecoat. She looked at him, confused, and asked, “Hello? Can I
help you?”

“Yeah. Does someone named Nathaniel Reece live here?” Greg

really wished he’d called at that point. He felt like a stalker.
Especially since this woman probably had no idea who Nathaniel was
and Greg was probably at the wrong house.

“He’s not home from work yet. You know him from college?”

She seemed very trusting, and Greg wondered if it was because she
was old enough to remember a simpler time when people actually
showed up at each other’s houses instead of talking online.

Daisy Harris

“Yeah. I just graduated this year, but I knew Nat from…” He

didn’t want to mention Eta Xi in case Nathaniel wasn’t out to
whoever this person was. “I knew him from around campus.”

“Oh, that’s nice. Does he know you’re coming?” She stepped to

the side and urged him in with a wave of her hand.

Greg felt awkward refusing her offer, so he stepped through the

door and directly into what must have been their living room. It was
cluttered but homey.

“Can I get you something to drink or eat? I’ve got soda, juice,

coffee?”

“Maybe some water.” Greg wasn’t sure if he was supposed to sit

down.

She scurried behind a wall and came back a second later with a

glass. “Here you go. You can wait in his room if you want. I’m sure
you didn’t come over to spend your time talking to Nathaniel’s
mother.” She said it with a hint of barely suppressed laughter, as if
she knew she was being slightly naughty and reveled in the idea it
might make Greg blush. It was her odd similarity to Nathaniel, more
even than her straightforward explanation, that made Greg understand
that she and Nathaniel were indeed related.

“Oh, no. I mean…yeah, I can wait in there if you have stuff to

do.”

“I’m Lydia, by the way.” She held out her hand for Greg to shake.

“And sorry I look such a mess.”

As Greg took his first sip of water, he couldn’t seem to stop

staring at her looking for a family resemblance. Now that he thought
about it, Greg realized he should have known Nathaniel was biracial.
After all, he had blue-green eyes. But with his hair and skin, Greg had
always thought of him as African-American.

“You look fine, Lydia. And no, I didn’t tell him I was coming. It

was a surprise.” He peered around the room, suddenly eager to know
more mysteries of Nat’s childhood.

Diva and the Frat Boy

His mom was short. That much, at least, seemed the same as

Nathaniel. There were a few pictures in framed holders on top of the
entertainment center. Most were of a much-younger version of the
lady standing next to him with a couple other children and a man who
could not have possibly been Nathaniel’s dad.

Then, on a nearby shelf, there were pictures of a tiny brown boy—

some running around naked under the shower of a hose. One in a
Little League uniform looking thoroughly dismayed. And a final one
of him dressed in his mother’s heels and nightgown with a long set of
fake pearls around his tiny toddler neck. The look in his eyes was so
innocently happy that Greg found his throat closing on his smile.

“Always was a looker, wasn’t he?” Lydia’s voice was light and

teasing, and she winked at Greg almost like she was checking him
out.

Greg felt himself blush. “Yeah, he was cute.” He sort of wanted to

ask where his dad had been.

Lydia must have sensed it because she said, “Just like his father.”

She touched her chest and made a little show of rolling her eyes back
in her head. “Mm-mm. That man was just beautiful.”

“Um…I may just head into…” Greg pointed down the hall to

where Lydia had insinuated Nathaniel’s room was. He liked Lydia
well enough, especially in the funny way she reminded him of
Nathaniel. But he wasn’t prepared to hear her make veiled references
to her sex life. And Greg had a feeling she was close to doing exactly
that. Probably because that was the type of thing Nathaniel would do.

“Of course.” She smiled a little too lasciviously for Greg’s

comfort. “Make yourself at home. I have bridge club in an hour, so I
should get dressed anyway.”

“Thanks.” Greg handed her back the empty glass, unsure whether

he was supposed to take it into the kitchen. But when she smiled
indulgently, he figured it was fine if he just excused himself to Nat’s
room.

Daisy Harris

He opened the wood-paneled door at the end of the hall, and it

took him several long moments to figure out if he was in Nathaniel’s
room at all. It didn’t look anything like the guy he knew. The sheets
were blue-and-gray checkered, and though they were impeccably
clean, he couldn’t imagine Nathaniel spending even one night
sleeping in them. A wood-veneer dresser dominated the wall across
from the bed, covered in an odd assortment of academic trophies,
trinkets, and pictures. There were a few pictures of Nathaniel with one
friend or another. They all must have been taken before Nathaniel
went to college, because his hair was longer and far less stylish—the
frizz of it like a puffy cloud around his slender face. And he was
wearing some of the worst glasses Greg had ever seen. They were
huge, covered half of his face, and were so thick they obscured his
eyes. Greg could barely even see Nathaniel under the awkward bulk
of the oversized sweatshirts he’d worn. And in one unfortunate
picture, Nathaniel even had braces.

Greg shook his head and said out loud, “Man. Poor kid.” He

wondered if Nathaniel kept his college pictures up at school or if
Nathaniel displayed this less-flattering version of himself as some
kind of penance.

He felt guilty seeing a side of Nathaniel the guy probably didn’t

want him to see, and Greg considered flipping down the frames to
save Nathaniel the embarrassment. But then he heard the front door
open. A quiet murmur of conversation billowed into Nathaniel
shouting at his mother. Lydia argued back.

Greg only had a moment to process how bad of an idea it was

showing up without calling when Nathaniel’s footsteps echoed from
the hall and Nathaniel threw open the door.

Diva and the Frat Boy

Chapter Eight

Nathaniel clenched his hands, and it took every ounce of his

energy not to fly across the room and smack Greg silly. “What the
fuck are you doing here?” He tried to keep his voice at a normal tone
and not shout. His mom had looked guilty enough about letting Greg
in. Nathaniel didn’t want her to feel any worse.

“Sorry.” Greg held up his hands and backed up until he tripped on

the bed. “Nat, seriously. I…I just wanted to see you. Say I was sorry
about things at Eta Xi. And…and everything.”

“Well, now you have.” Nathaniel caught a glimpse of himself in

the mirror. Thank God he’d taken off his fast-food server uniform
before bussing it home. But he was still wearing his fucking glasses.
He never could stand to keep in his contacts at work. Something about
the aerosolized grease wreaked havoc on his eyes.

“God, Nat. Those glasses are…” Greg snickered. Then he bit his

lip like he was trying not to laugh.

Before Nathaniel could stop himself, he launched at Greg, landing

on top of him. He didn’t slap him like he wanted to but held Greg
down with his forearm across his throat. “What are they, Greg? Why
don’t you tell me what I look like?”

Greg’s eyes blazed, and Nathaniel couldn’t tell if it was with lust

or anger. But it might have been both, because Greg thrust his hips
up. And not that Nathaniel cared, but he could feel even through both
their jeans that Greg was hard.

For a moment, they stared at each other. Nathaniel was pissed as

hell, but he hadn’t gotten laid since that last time with Greg. Now that

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there was a hot, hard male body under him, Nathaniel felt his erection
thrum to life.

His mom called from the living room, “I’m heading out!” and

Nathaniel heard it as permission.

As if Greg understood Nathaniel’s thoughts, Greg made a face

like a scowl and said, “Do it.”

Nathaniel was too pissed off to fuck any other way. He reared

back just far enough to grab Greg’s shoulders and flip him over.
Nathaniel was rough, and Greg didn’t resist.

“C’mon.” Greg snarled into the pillow. Nathaniel’s hands

scrabbled to get open his pants, and all Greg did was raise his voice.
“C’mon, kid. Fucking do it already.”

“Get your pants down.” Nathaniel got his dick past his fly.
“Here.” Greg shoved his jeans down to his thighs. He fished in his

pocket and then handed Nathaniel a condom and lube. “Use both.”

Nathaniel mindlessly ripped the packets open. He skinned the

condom down his cock before drizzling lube into Greg’s crack. Then
he fell onto Greg’s back and humped into Greg’s crease to coat
himself in slick.

Greg dragged his shirt over his head, pumping back into

Nathaniel’s thrusts. “You’re lucky I prepped before coming over.”

“You did?” Nathaniel paused just long enough to ask. For a

second, he felt more flattered than angry.

“I figured you’d want some kind of payback.” Greg didn’t look up

from the pillow he was clutching, but Nathaniel heard the smirk in his
voice. “Ya drama queen.”

“Dick.” Nathaniel pulled back and lined himself up. He hoped

Greg was serious about being ready, because he was still pissed
enough that he wasn’t planning on spending any time with foreplay.

“What the fuck are you waiting for?”
Nathaniel pushed the crown of his cock into Greg’s pucker then

eased his hips forward. He’d never topped before but figured he’d had
enough experience on the other end of things to do it right. “Like

Diva and the Frat Boy

that?” He pumped his hips forward in short bursts, feeling it the
second Greg’s body accepted him and dragged him inside.

“Oh, crap.” Greg pressed his forehead into the pillow. “Shit,

you’re hung like a horse, Nat.”

“Maybe it’s just that you’re old.” Nathaniel bucked his hips

forward, liking the way it made Greg gasp. The feel of that hot, slick
clasp on his dick wasn’t bad, either. It was like getting head but
smoother. He reared up and pulled Greg onto his knees with him.
From that position he could watch his cock disappear into the pink
stretch of Greg’s body. Greg had a little halo of black hair around his
opening, and Nathaniel found it sort of cute.

Greg panted. “Oh, you are so gonna get it next time I’m on top.”
Nathaniel snapped his hips, setting a harsh pace that nonetheless

felt like heaven. “Shut up and take it, old man.”

Greg growled into the sheets. He reached down and fisted his

cock, and his shoulders flexed as he started pumping. His back was
beautiful—long and pale. On some guys, that would mean their
muscles didn’t show much, but that wasn’t the case with Greg. And
his light skin revealed the flush on his neck. It extended down
between his shoulder blades, and Nathaniel remembered how that part
of him had been so sensitive.

He leaned over Greg’s back to bite that spot, never stopping the

quick, deep thrusts that were getting him so, so close…And it was
when Greg moaned out a gasp like a whine and his arms started to
shake that Nathaniel felt that tight climb low in his body. His dick felt
like it weighed fifty pounds and it was so big he could hardly move.
Nathaniel struggled to keep up his rhythm and motion even as Greg
lost his muscle control and fell face-first onto the bed. And then
Nathaniel bucked his last thrusts into Greg’s lax body, cursing him
with his every breath, pleasure coursing to shoot through his cock.

The world stood still while Nathaniel breathed. Greg was so big

under Nathaniel’s belly. Warm and stable. Something about that was
nice.

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“You, um, ready to pull out?” Greg shifted underneath him.
“Oh, yeah, sorry.” Some of Nathaniel’s anger had burned off in

his thrusts, and he felt more relaxed as he disengaged himself and
tugged off the condom. He grabbed some wet wipes of his bedside
table and handed the little packet to Greg.

“Was I your first?” Greg smiled as he pulled a few sheets of damp

towel out of the pack.

“Yeah.” It was weird, Nathaniel hadn’t thought much about

wanting to top over the course of his life. Guys had always assumed
he would bottom exclusively, and maybe it was those preconceptions
that made Nathaniel see himself that way. But even though the
experience had been new and unexpected, Nathaniel had liked it a lot.
So much that he wondered why he’d never thought to ask for it
before. “I didn’t suck too bad, did I?”

“Nah.” Greg twisted around and pulled Nathaniel into a long kiss.

This time it was Greg who led, and Nathaniel had no trouble
following. Greg whispered against his mouth, “Was just how I like
it.”

“Good.” Nathaniel couldn’t seem to stop smirking. He was

surprised to find that he was proud of his performance. He felt a bit
macho and kind of tough. “So, you just came here to get fucked?” He
sat up.

“No. I came to ask you out.” Greg rotated so that he was

straddling Nathaniel’s back, as Nathaniel sat cross-legged. “On a
date.” Greg put his chin on Nathaniel’s shoulder. “You know any
decent clubs around here?”

Nathaniel bounced off the bed and grabbed a towel off his hanger.

He needed a shower after work and especially to think about what
came next with Greg. “I know a few places. You can tag along if you
want.”

Greg gave him a big, blinding smile. “I’ll go anywhere you want.”
“Um…cool. Er, you don’t mind if I go wash off, do you?”

Diva and the Frat Boy

“That’s fine.” Greg hitched an arm under his chin and watched

Nathaniel with a pensive expression. “It’s okay that I’m here, right? I
mean—do you want me to leave?”

Nathaniel thought about it. No, as angry as he’d been before, he

was sort of glad to have Greg around. Nathaniel had friends in town,
but all of them knew him as he’d been in high school. Usually, he just
hung out by himself. It didn’t hurt that Greg was easy on the eyes, or
that he was staring at Nathaniel like he was something special. “Nah,
it’s nice to see you.”

“Yeah, nice to see you, too.” Greg smiled his million-dollar grin.
Nathaniel slipped out the door and crossed to the bathroom. He

tossed his towel on the sink and ran the shower to scalding, wanting
the sharp edge of pain to batter his thoughts into place.

He stepped under the fall of water, and his skin immediately

pebbled with goose bumps. Nathaniel rubbed his arms, getting used to
the temperature, and then lathered soap over his chest and under his
arms.

Greg Sanders had shown up at his house. He’d texted, then driven,

then bottomed, all to get Nathaniel to go out with him to a club. The
only plausible explanation was that Greg was genuinely interested in
Nathaniel. Not just as a hook-up—they’d already done that. And it
couldn’t have been because Nathaniel was good in bed, because much
as Nathaniel bragged, he knew there must be plenty of guys out there
who were better. Plus, Greg Sanders had to have plenty of other
options. The guy was a babe.

No, Nathaniel thought as he scrubbed at his arms and legs with a

washcloth. Greg actually liked him. Like, as a boyfriend, maybe.

Nathaniel stood under the showerhead, forcing himself to take all

the heat until it was almost uncomfortable, and then at the last minute
he shut off the hot and blasted the cold. His muscles tensed, but he
forced himself to hold under the freezing water for a few seconds
before shutting it off.

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Nathaniel shivered while his body recalibrated to room

temperature. He loved doing cold rinses after his shower. His mom
had always said it was good for the circulation, and although
Nathaniel didn’t need any help in that department, he felt like the
blast of cold always helped him think.

In this case, the shock made him realize the real question wasn’t

whether Greg liked him. That much was obvious. No, what Nathaniel
had to figure out was whether or not he liked Greg back. And
especially, if he thought he could trust Greg not to act like an idiot
douchebag.

Nathaniel looked in the mirror, as if his face held the answer. But

though he saw his eyes and nose and mouth, Nathaniel knew that he
didn’t really see himself.

He saw a recovering nerd, or a girly-boy overcompensating. He

didn’t really know what he looked like without any of those lenses. So
it was hard for him to know what it was Greg saw.

With a long exhale, Nathaniel wrapped his towel around his hips.

Then he reached into the drawer for his lotion and rubbed a dollop of
it into his skin. He ran his hands over his arms and then torso and
tried to stop focusing on what Greg saw, and whether Greg liked him,
and forced his focus on one simple question—did he like Greg?

Yes.
Yeah, Nathaniel thought, he’d gotten along great with Greg ever

since he’d met him at the beginning of the year. He enjoyed Greg’s
company, and flat-out loved having sex with him.

In a fit of motivation, he rubbed the lotion over the rest of his

body and fastened the towel tighter on his hips to go back to the room.

He was going to give Greg Sanders a try. A real try. Greg

deserved to be taken at face value just as much as Nathaniel did. Fuck
Nathaniel’s preconceived notions, and whatever Greg had done in the
past. That was college, and this was summer. Maybe Greg would be
better away from his asshole friends.

Diva and the Frat Boy

Nathaniel paused in the hallway. He smiled, and then ran back

into the bathroom to get Greg a damp washcloth and an extra towel in
case he wanted to wash off before they hit the town.

* * * *

Nathaniel had a strut to his step that Greg had never seen before.

His hips rolled as he marched out toward the dance floor. Nathaniel
looked at Greg over his shoulder—his eyes shaded with eyeliner and
his belly bared in a crop top—and Greg stopped dead in his tracks.

Greg had always thought Nat was putting on a show—that if he

stopped acting flamboyant and loud and gender bendy that underneath
it all, Nathaniel would be…Greg didn’t know. Maybe, normal.

But, no. Nathaniel only had the power to turn the volume up or

down. Normal was no part of him, and it never was. Greg wondered
how he could not have seen that before.

“I like this song!” Nathaniel shouted over the driving beat,

seemingly unaware of Greg’s inner dialogue. The dance floor was
packed with men, all grinding and swaying. Some broke away from
the group to dance solos.

The scene could have felt intimidating, but it didn’t. Everyone

was smiling and having fun, and Greg was with the best-looking guy
in the joint.

He laced his fingers with Nathaniel’s and pulled him in for a kiss.

“We should dance.” The song got louder and bled into a chorus, and it
seemed like the whole room raised their voices to shout the lyrics. It
was goofy and amazing and in a lot of ways reminded Greg of
college. He leaned into Nathaniel’s ear. “Thanks for bringing me
here.”

Nathaniel gave him a coy smile. “It’s my favorite.” Then he

winked. “They drop the cover if you wear something slutty.”

Greg threw back his head, laughing. Nathaniel pressed close,

crushed by the weight of the bodies around them. They writhed more

Daisy Harris

than danced, unable to do more than bounce on the crowded dance
floor. But even with the limited motion, Greg felt his body responding
to Nathaniel’s nearness. He grinned down into Nathaniel’s
mischievous eyes, then Greg cupped Nathaniel’s ass and gave him a
long, firm grind.

“Ooh, Daddy,” Nathaniel teased. He reached down to trace the

outline of Greg’s erection through his pants. “That all for me?”

Greg spun Nathaniel around to get behind him. He growled into

the dark coil of Nathaniel’s ear. “Oh, you are so gonna get it later.”

Nathaniel reached back and palmed the back of Greg’s head. All

the while he swayed with his eyes closed. After a long moment, he
said softly, “Hope I do.” Those words were so quiet and shy, and
came from that secret inner part of him that Greg had only glimpsed.

“What’s up?” Nathaniel twisted his neck to look at Greg.

“Something wrong?”

“No.” Greg studied Nathaniel’s beautiful face and wondered how

none of the guys in Eta Xi had noticed the sexiness of Nathaniel in
eyeliner or how beautiful he looked strutting on stage in four-inch
heels. He’d been angry before, but now he just felt sorry for them.
They couldn’t see something amazing, because they only looked for
things that were plain. “Nah, I’m having fun.”

“Wanna take a breather?” Nathaniel glanced at the exit sign.
Greg smiled, knowing exactly what Nathaniel was proposing, and

he was gladder than ever that he’d filled his jean pockets with sex
supplies before he left home. “Sure. Yeah.” He led Nathaniel away
from the dance floor and over to the bar, and when Nathaniel started
tugging him in the direction of the side exits, he changed places and
let Nathaniel show him the way. After all, Nat had been to this club
before. Greg assumed he knew his way around.

Nat led him through a panic door and into a back alley. It wasn’t

as private as Greg would have liked, since it was an exit point for
several bars. There were people everywhere, standing around,
smoking, drinking beers in paper bags. Greg gave Nathaniel a

Diva and the Frat Boy

questioning look, and Nathaniel shrugged. “Sorry. I’ve never gone
outside with anyone before. I figured the alley would be empty.”

Greg smiled, snorting a little in a laugh. Nathaniel looked so

pretty and sexy, and Greg couldn’t resist leaning down to give him a
kiss.

From behind him he heard a scoff and then someone muttering

something about faggots in a not-so-subtle voice. Nathaniel tensed
and shook his head, but Greg’s temper spiked. He spun around.

“Excuse me, but do you have a problem?” He took a few steps

over to where the guy who had made the comment stood with a girl
and another guy.

The guy sneered at Greg but just shook his head. “I got no

problem, man.” He downed half of his beer in one swallow.

But Greg couldn’t seem to let it go, so he said, “That’s good,

because as you can see, you’re right next door to a gay club. So you
should assume you will see gay people doing gay things. If you’d
rather not see these things, there are plenty of other bars for you to go
to.”

The guy sputtered something, but Greg couldn’t hear him over the

pounding in his ears. He’d never had to defend his lifestyle to anyone.
At least, not really. Adrenaline flooded his system, and Greg walked
away before he got angry enough to shout or get violent.

He strode toward the entrance of the club, trying to outrun his

annoyance at himself. Greg hated when he got up on a soapbox like
that. It made him feel out of control—like he might hit someone or
cry. What kind of lawyer would he be if he couldn’t keep his
emotions under control? After all, it wasn’t like he and homophobe
were going to get into some kind of rational discussion.

“Hey.” Nathaniel grabbed Greg’s arm. He stopped Greg right

outside the club’s door, in plain sight of the bouncer. With careful
eyes, Nat asked, “You okay?”

Greg thought about it for a second. His gasps were so shallow and

his hands shook. He wasn’t scared of the guy he’d told off. There

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were bouncers at every exit of the nightlife-infested area. No, he was
scared of himself—of the way his feelings crept up in his throat to
choke him. “I…I’m sorry I left you over there. I just…”

“Shh…” Nathaniel rubbed his arms. “It’s fine. It wasn’t like the

guy was gonna give me a hard time anyway. You should have seen
his face.” Nathaniel snickered. “His girlfriend looked mortified. And
kinda like she wanted to go home with you instead.”

Greg pulled Nathaniel into his arms. The pounding in his chest

felt less scary with Nathaniel pressed close. “Man, I hate losing my
shit like that.” He tried to force out a chuckle, but it sounded damp.

“Well, I like it,” Nathaniel teased. He rose on his tiptoes and

pecked a kiss on Greg’s cheek. Then Nathaniel tousled Greg’s hair.
“Look at you, being my hero.” The edge of his lips curled into a
smirk.

Greg hooked his arm around Nathaniel’s shoulder. “You’re not

pissed?”

“Of course not.” Nathaniel messed with Greg’s shirt, straightening

his collar. “You’re hot when you get all crusader-y.”

Greg laughed. If only Nathaniel knew how hard it was sometimes

for Greg to stay dispassionate. To someone like Nathaniel, it must
have looked like Greg didn’t really care about anything. But he had to
keep a lid on his emotions, because most of the time, Greg cared too
much for his own good. “Nat—” He cupped the back of Nathaniel’s
neck. “Spend the night at my place.”

Nathaniel’s eyes went wide. And he looked at Greg for what

seemed like a long time. “Yes,” he said in his softest voice.

Greg smiled because he was pretty sure that he was the only

person in the world who got to hear it.

Diva and the Frat Boy

Chapter Nine

Nathaniel wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting when he got to

Greg’s house. Somewhere in the back of his mind he’d assumed the
boy lived in a mansion. But as Greg pulled into a driveway leading
off the leafy suburban road, he saw that Greg’s house was more like
something out of TV or the movies—the kind of house that was
passed off as “normal” even though Nathaniel had never known
anyone rich enough to live in one.

The lawn was manicured, and the flowers looked like they’d been

planted by a garden designer. There were white columns by the front
door, but Greg led him around the side of the house.

“Don’t want me to meet your folks?” Nathaniel mused. But Greg

grabbed his hand and kissed it.

“They’re out of town this weekend. And anyway, I live in the pool

house now.” Greg led the way to the backyard and there, lo and
behold, was an in-ground pool with a studio apartment, lying behind
it.

Nathaniel laughed. “A pool house? How Million Dollar Listing.”
Greg rolled his eyes. “They’re pretty common around here. People

build them for when out-of-town relatives come to stay, but often
their kids end up using them when they come home from college. Or
after they graduate if they don’t have a job yet.”

“I wish living in a pool house was my after-graduation plan. My

only choice would be my old bedroom.” Nathaniel shuddered. He
liked his mom well enough but could not wait to get a place of his
own.

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“Well, it’s certainly not my plan, either. I’ve got a place rented

with a couple other guys up in Montpelier for next year.” Greg
dragged him to a stop just outside the door to the bungalow. He
looked into Nathaniel’s eyes. “You’re welcome there any time.
Seriously, I’ll pick you up on campus whenever.”

Nathaniel’s skin prickled with heat. “Yeah. Maybe I could come

hang out sometimes.”

“I’d like that.” Greg kissed the tip of each of Nathaniel’s fingers

while with his free hand he reached into his pocket for his keys. He
fumbled the locks open and slid the glass door to the side. “C’mon
in.” He smiled, stepping into the cabana. It was furnished with a bed
and a lamp, and it looked like a door led off to a bathroom on the side.
But other than that, it was empty. Nathaniel would have expected at
least a minifridge or a hot plate.

“You thirsty? I can grab drinks from the house.” Greg flipped a

switch and the lights popped on. But then he must have fiddled with a
dimmer because they lowered to a more intimate level.

“Nah. I’m fine.” They’d grabbed a couple sodas at a convenience

store before getting on the highway. And anyway, the main house was
somehow too intimidating. Nathaniel didn’t want to leave Greg’s little
sanctuary. He flopped down on the bed, which he wasn’t surprised to
find was plush and comfortable. Nathaniel lay back, stretching his
arms up over his head. He knew doing so bared his nipples in his
barely there top, but that made it all the more decadent. A boy could
get used to hot summer nights by the pool.

“I’ve noticed.” Greg climbed on top of him, skimming on his

hands and knees like a creature of prey. He nipped Nathaniel’s ribs,
then his nipple, then took small bites up the side of his neck. “I’m
going to do you ’til you can’t see straight, Nat. You gonna let me?”

Nathaniel closed his eyes. His forehead creased as want rushed

through him. Crap, he hadn’t admitted to himself how much he
missed Greg—mostly because he’d assumed Greg wouldn’t give him
another thought after graduation. “Yeah,” Nathaniel breathed. He

Diva and the Frat Boy

couldn’t move. He was desperate for Greg to take him. To boss him
around and make him whimper.

Greg lifted off far enough to look soulfully into Nathaniel’s eyes,

and his head tilted as if he was reading what he saw. His gaze was
solemn but smiling when he pulled back and held out a hand to help
Nathaniel up.

“Wha—”
“Can I do something?” Greg roamed his hand all over Nathaniel’s

body, dragging Nathaniel’s shirt over his head and tugging open his
pants.

Nathaniel nodded. At that moment, Greg could have done

anything. Anything at all.

Greg shoved his hand into Nathaniel’s front pocket and dug out

the sheer lip gloss Nathaniel had put on, largely as a joke, at the
beginning of the night. And though it seemed like a small thing, when
Greg stood to his full height and unscrewed the top, gazing down at
Nathaniel’s lips, Nathaniel felt more unsure than he’d felt in a while.

“You want to…?”
Greg rubbed his finger over Nathaniel’s bottom lip. Then he

pulled the brush out of the tube. With an artist’s eye, he smudged the
thick gloss over first Nathaniel’s bottom lip, then his top one.
Nathaniel couldn’t bring himself to even press them together to
smooth out the moisture, he just stood transfixed as Greg added
another layer of faintly colored polish over every bit of Nathaniel’s
mouth. And when he’d finished—when Nathaniel’s lips felt heavy
and throbbing with oily gloss—he unfastened the front of his jeans.
Greg wound a hand around the back of Nathaniel’s neck, and with
firm pressure, he dragged Nathaniel down and down until Nathaniel
folded onto his knees. Greg’s erection slapped him in the face,
spreading gloss from his lips across his cheeks. Nathaniel opened his
mouth, trying to get Greg’s cock between his lips, but Greg only
slapped his mouth a few times with his dick, as if he were trying to
get it slippery.

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“C’mon…” Nathaniel tried again to catch that weeping tip, and

Greg rewarded him by holding Nathaniel’s face at the ears and sliding
his cock into Nathaniel’s messy mouth.

Much as Nathaniel tried to suck or lick or take control of the

speed, Greg resisted. He pumped between Nathaniel’s lips until
Nathaniel was dizzy from his smell and his power, until Nathaniel
thought he might come just from the taste of Greg’s pre-cum.
Nathaniel’s knees burned from the friction against the carpet. He
worked his hips in pathetic circles, his dick waving in a wet dance.

“Turn around.” Greg pulled out of Nathaniel’s mouth, leaving him

gasping like a fish out of water. When Nathaniel only blinked,
confused, Greg said more sternly, “Turn the hell around so I can fuck
your other hole.”

Nathaniel’s dick pulsed, like maybe he’d come just from those

growled words, but his body obeyed even if his mind had lost all
sense of reason. He wasn’t sure if Greg wanted him on the ground or
the bed, so he turned on his knees and leaned forward across the
mattress. When Greg only huffed his impatience, Nathaniel climbed
onto all fours, and on shaking arms, he lowered his face to the
bedspread.

Between his legs, he saw his cock hovering near his belly. A long,

glistening string of pre-cum dripped from the head. Something about
the sight made Nathaniel feel so weak and needy he could have
sobbed.

“Head up.” The bed dipped as Greg climbed on behind him. Greg

put a hand to Nathaniel’s cheek and lifted his face into a kiss. All the
while his other hand, slicked with lube, worked between Nathaniel’s
ass cheeks. When Greg broke their kiss, he smiled gently. “You
okay?”

Nathaniel couldn’t formulate an answer. He could only press back

into the fingers Greg had poised at his entrance. God. He wanted this
so bad. And not just for that night, for every night. Or at least every
night he could have it. But he didn’t say that. Instead he just scorched

Diva and the Frat Boy

Greg with his eyes and said, “I thought you were gonna fuck me, old
man.”

Greg hitched his lip in a snarl. “I just wanted to make sure you

could keep up, kid.” With a final rough kiss, Greg pulled away and
positioned himself behind Nathaniel. Maybe it was because of
Nathaniel’s teasing, but he pushed in hard, slid all the way deep, and
held there. And though Nathaniel had pressed his lips together trying
not to make a sound, a shout escaped.

“Oh, fuck.” He pressed his eyes closed, knowing his mouth was

hanging open. But when Greg bent over his back to kiss his neck, he
whispered close to Nathaniel’s ear, “I have always wanted to make
you do that.” Greg wrapped a hand to Nathaniel’s cock. It was
covered in slick lube and rubbed Nathaniel slowly, surely, back to
fully aroused, until the bruised ache in his ass felt hot and needy and
pleasure coiled from his belly button all the way under his hips.

Greg pumped his cock, kissed his neck, fucked into him in slow,

rolling thrusts.

Nathaniel let out a constant stream of whimpers, and he couldn’t

believe his arms and legs were even holding him up. All he knew was
Greg’s strong hands and his hard cock, his broad shoulders and his
powerful thighs. And Nathaniel wasn’t sure who started coming first,
only that they couldn’t seem to stop. Greg’s shouts set off
Nathaniel’s, and each pulse of him shot another splatter of Nathaniel’s
cum onto the bedsheets. Greg didn’t fall down this time. His arms
kept Nathaniel kneeling as the two of them shivered out the last of
their climax.

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Chapter Ten

“That wasn’t too weird, was it?”
Greg flopped down on the bed, snatching Nathaniel around the

waist and dragging him into a hug. “Why would I think that?” He
kissed the side of Nathaniel’s head. “Don’t want to make you even
more conceited than you already are, but that was probably the hottest
thing I’ve ever done in my life.”

“Really?” Nathaniel wriggled deeper into Greg’s hold, and though

Greg only saw half his face, he thought Nathaniel was smiling.

“Yeah, really.” Greg wondered how much to share, but he

couldn’t hold back telling Nathaniel something about how he felt.
“I’ve only had one serious boyfriend before now, and the sex was
okay, but he was a little…conservative.”

Nathaniel made a soft sound in between a chuckle and a giggle.

He rolled over so that Greg could see his face, all smudged with lip
gloss and eyeliner, his expression deliciously fucked out and sleepy.
“No handcuffs, I take it?”

Greg snorted out a laugh. “Um, no. That would have been way

outside his comfort zone.”

“More’s the pity for him,” Nathaniel said with a wicked gleam in

his eyes. “Boy probably didn’t know what he was missing.”

“I see…” Greg narrowed his eyes, studying Nat’s face. He had a

sneaking suspicion that Nathaniel had never really let someone tie
him up and was just talking a big game. But that was okay, Greg
didn’t need to ruin Nat’s little self-delusion.

Nat used his soft voice when he said, “I’d let you.”

Diva and the Frat Boy

Greg kissed him with teeth and tongue, their mouths melding.

And when he pulled away to breathe, Greg couldn’t stop the words
“Fuck, I love you” from slipping out. And though Nathaniel didn’t
say them back, he whimpered and kissed Greg harder before rolling
Greg onto his back and straddling his thighs.

“What about you?” Greg ran his hands up Nathaniel’s sides. He

wasn’t horny anymore, at least not enough to go again so soon, but he
loved touching Nathaniel’s warm, smooth skin, liked seeing how
Nathaniel twitched under his fingers. Greg cocked his head, hoping
Nat would answer his question and not deflect things to more teasing
and sex. “Got any exes worth noting?”

Nathaniel kicked off of Greg’s lap to sit cross-legged on the bed.

He was still gloriously naked and beautiful in the blue, flickering light
from the pool. “Well, I did date someone in high school.”

Greg leaned up onto his elbow. “So what happened?”
Nathaniel sighed, glancing at the comforter. “He wasn’t out, I

was.”

“Oh.” Greg rubbed a finger over Nathaniel’s thumb, inviting Nat

to hold his hand. “That’s a perfectly good reason to break up with
someone.”

“Yeah.” Nathaniel wove their fingers together, though Greg

wasn’t sure if he’d even meant to. Nat stared at their joined hands like
he wasn’t sure how it had happened. “He was always worried I’d give
him away.”

“Oh.” Greg wanted to reassure him, but Nathaniel cut him off.
He waved his hand a little too dramatically. “He wasn’t a bad guy,

he just wasn’t ready for people to know, y’know?”

Greg nodded. He sensed there was more to the story, so he rubbed

Nathaniel’s palm, urging him to keep talking.

“At first we met in secret. And that was fine with me. God, I was

so horny back then, and he was so hot. And Tom was sweet when we
were together.” Nathaniel twined their fingers, his hand dancing
nervously inside Greg’s. “But then sometimes we’d try to hang out in

Daisy Harris

the hall or after school, and I could always tell it made him nervous.”
Nathaniel made a little huff, as if the thing he’d said was meant to be
offhand, but Greg could tell from the bleak look in Nat’s eyes that
those little rejections had torn him apart.

“Then, one time we were walking out to the school busses

together and a bunch of his jock friends made some comment about
the two of us. And after they left…”

Greg held his breath, unable to look away from the sheen in

Nathaniel’s eyes. He hadn’t meant for the conversation to upset
Nathaniel, but it had.

Nathaniel wiped his hand across his nose. He lifted his chin and

said, “After they left, he said to me, ‘Why do you always have to act
like such a fag?’” Nathaniel swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple
bobbing.

“Oh man, Nat.” Greg shook his head and shuffled closer so their

legs were touching. “Seriously, you can’t take what he said—”

“Don’t you get it, Greg? He wasn’t a bad guy. He was just like the

guys at Eta Xi.” Nathaniel threw up his hands. “I know how I am,
Greg.” His jaw clenched. “I can’t act straight. I just can’t. When I try
to, I come off even more like a—”

“Shhh…” Greg wrapped his arm around Nat’s shoulders and

dragged him into a hug. “You know what you act like?”

Nathaniel shrugged.
“You act like an amazing, gorgeous, proud gay man.” Greg kissed

his cheek. He smiled at the scent of Nat’s skin. “And I, for one, am
thrilled to have earned the right to be seen with you.”

“Idiot.” Nathaniel laughed, giving Greg a mock punch in his side.
“Maybe.” Greg fell back on the bed, tugging Nathaniel on top of

him. “But I managed to get you to like me finally.”

Nathaniel shot him a snarky stare. “So, you think I like you, huh?”
Greg smiled. “Um, yeah.” He reached for Nathaniel’s perfect little

ass and ground Nathaniel against him. “I think you more than like
me.”

Diva and the Frat Boy

With a gasp, Nathaniel started grinding back. But then he said in a

breathy whisper, “Maybe I do.”

* * * *

“No stars this time?” Peter stood in the middle of Nathaniel’s

room looking at the ceiling. There were boxes everywhere, and
Nathaniel’s suitcase lay open and hemorrhaging clothes on his bed.
But Nathaniel wanted to install the disco ball on his ceiling before he
put away the rest of his stuff.

“Those decals weren’t mine.” He angled the screwdriver to get

better leverage and then wrenched the bolt deeper into the ceiling’s
drywall. He was fairly certain he wasn’t supposed to be attaching
things to the ceiling of the apartment he’d rented with Chris and Peter,
but Nathaniel figured he could patch it before they moved out.

“Are you sure you don’t want to wait for Greg to come over and

help you with that?” Peter sipped on his paper cup full of coffee.

“Are you saying this is man’s work, honey?” Drywall dust fell in

Nathaniel’s eyes. He must have punched through to the other side.
However, the screw seemed to be holding, so Nathaniel gestured to
Peter for a second one and started to attach the other side.

“No.” Peter chuckled. “I’m saying Greg’s taller.”
“Oh.” Nathaniel smiled. Peter had a good point. On their little step

stool, Nathaniel had to reach way overhead to get the screwdriver
where it needed to go. Greg probably wouldn’t have to reach at all.
But either way, Nathaniel wanted his room ready by the time his
boyfriend came over. “You could help out, y’know?”

Peter shook his head. “Lighting is your area of expertise. I set up

the sound system.”

The final screw turned into place, and Nathaniel reached to flip

the “on” switch. The ball started rotating slowly. It was run on
batteries, which would have to be changed from time to time.

Daisy Harris

Nathaniel would have liked to have gotten one he could turn on with a
light switch, but for that he would have needed to hire an electrician.

“Looking good, Nat.” Chris pushed into the room behind Peter.

He turned off the overhead light and flipped on the spotlight on top of
the dresser. The mirrored disco ball reflected tiny stars to stream
along the walls. “Woot! Disco inferno.”

Peter scowled and said, “No disco. Not in my house.” He was

such a music snob.

But Chris just smiled and turned to Nathaniel. “Explain to me

again why this is in your bedroom and not in the living room?”

Nathaniel hopped off the step stool and flipped back on his

bedroom light. He grinned at his housemates. “That’s where I’m
putting the big one.”

Peter looked horrified, but Chris burst out laughing.

* * * *

Greg felt surprisingly nervous as he rang the buzzer for 2B. He

stood with the latest edition of Queer Vermont under his arm,
shuffling his feet in the crisp fall evening. As he waited, he worried
that Nathaniel would have changed his mind about still dating now
that they were back at their respective schools. They’d seen each
other all summer, alternating between DC where Greg had his
internship and Baltimore where Nathaniel had needed to hold onto his
job. But that was the real world, and this was college. And Greg had
learned that although the two had similarities, they were by no means
the same.

“Hello, Daddy!” Nathaniel’s laughing voice sounded mechanical

through the machine. In the background, Greg heard shouted hellos
from Chris and Peter, too.

“Ooh, can I call him Daddy, too?” Peter asked. Then Chris said,

“Not if you like getting laid.”

Diva and the Frat Boy

By the time Greg opened the door and went inside, he was already

laughing with them. And when he got to their apartment, Nathaniel
stood on the threshold wearing a pair of jean shorts, a grin to his ears,
and shimmering, aqua toenail polish.

“Did you see this, yet?” Greg held up the copy of the magazine.

The cover shot was two guys in sheets dancing together under a fall of
colored lights. The photographer may have been grumpy that night,
but he’d done a great job of capturing the spirit of the party.

“Of course, hon.” Nathaniel turned around and strutted into the

apartment. Greg was pretty sure he’d done it just to show off his ass.
Nat shot him a wink over his shoulder, reaffirming Greg’s suspicion,
and then he dropped into the apartment’s couch and grabbed a copy of
Queer Vermont off the tattered coffee table. “Got my copy right here.
I already sent a one home to my mom.”

Greg grinned. He could just imagine Lydia beaming proudly

while she read all the places where the reporter had quoted Nathaniel.
“I sent one to my parents, too.” The article had spun the story to make
it all about Greg and Nathaniel—painting them as an odd couple, an
unlikely pairing of gay fraternity culture and gay club culture. And
though Greg would never have thought the combination would work,
the article had been a rousing success, fueling pages of comments on
the Queer Vermont blog and a plan for a follow-up article next year.

“Y’know, Rob called me the other day to say they changed their

minds and want me to join now.” Nathaniel scooted over on the
couch, giving Greg room to sit.

“Huh. Not surprising.” Rob and the guys had probably reassessed

their judgment of Nathaniel when they saw how the article drew him.
Greg was struck by how much a person’s opinion could be altered
depending on how things were presented. Like him, he’d been so
worried about Nathaniel doing something to mess up the Eta Xi
article. In the end, Nathaniel was the spice that made the story that
much more delicious. Greg kissed Nat’s neck. “So, you gonna give in
and join?”

Daisy Harris

“Oh, I don’t know.” Nathaniel rolled his eyes and tilted his head

theatrically. “I should say ‘no’ just to spite them.”

Greg pinched his lips together to avoid laughing. Nathaniel wasn’t

the type to let wounded pride get in the way of another possible photo
shoot. “Yeah, it would serve them right,” he agreed, though he knew
Nathaniel would eventually cave under the flattery.

Nathaniel turned to look at Greg, studying him. He narrowed his

eyes. “Oh shut up, you know I’m going to say ‘yes.’” Nat smacked
his arm, but then settled back down on the couch. He returned his
attention to the magazine. “I’m just going to let them stew for a week
or two first.”

“Good plan.” Greg snuggled closer, putting his arm around

Nathaniel’s shoulder. He read the magazine, though he’d already done
so a hundred times. Somehow it was different doing it with Nathaniel.

“I can’t believe they got this one shot. The guy must have been

hiding in a corner or something.” He flipped through the pages to a
candid that the photographer had managed to catch of Greg and
Nathaniel. They both looked tense in the picture, and Greg
remembered all too clearly how he’d been short with Nathaniel that
night. But the picture captured something that Greg hadn’t realized at
the time.

In the shot, he and Nathaniel were standing close together, both

their faces serious. They looked like they were discussing something
important, like they were changing history. There was a table next to
them, and he and Nathaniel had both rested their hands on it. Their
fingers were inches apart—as if any minute they might touch, as if the
picture knew, even though Greg hadn’t, that they were in love.

Greg wrapped Nathaniel up in his arms and lifted him onto his

lap. Then he leaned in to kiss him until they were both out of breath.

“I think that’s our cue to go out and give these guys some

privacy.” Peter tugged at Chris’s arm. He winked at Greg as he
grabbed his keys off the counter. “Nice seeing you again, Greg.”

Diva and the Frat Boy

“You, too.” Greg slapped Peter’s hand and then Chris’s as both

younger guys passed and headed out.

When the door shut behind them, Nathaniel asked, “So, do you

want the tour, or shall we just start fucking in here and then work our
way through the place?”

Greg looked around. The apartment had a tiny kitchen, a living

room combined with a dining room, and three doors. Greg assumed
two led to bedrooms and another to a bathroom. At least it smelled
better than most college housing. It still had a new-carpet, new-paint
smell, rather than the scents of mold and stale beer. “Why don’t you
show me your room first?” Greg wanted Nathaniel somewhere with a
real bed. He wanted to do it slow and intense their first time at Nat’s
new place. He wanted Nat to remember.

“Sure thing, honey.” Nat stood and held out his hand, and when

Greg took it, Nat hauled him off the couch and led him into a
darkened room. He didn’t turn on a light, though. Instead, Nathaniel
said, “Hold on,” and fussed with the ceiling and then something on
top of a dresser. Greg heard the grind of a motor spinning, and then
points of light spun slowly around the walls like a thousand shooting
stars.

“A disco ball?” Greg snorted out his laugh. “You’re insane, you

know that?”

Nathaniel scoffed at his teasing. “Oh, shush. You know you love

me.” He leaned into Greg, his body warm and strong against Greg’s
stomach and chest.

It felt so right that Greg had to kiss the top of his head. “Yeah, I

do.”

“Y’know…” He took Greg’s arms and pulled them tighter around

himself. Nathaniel’s voice was soft when he whispered, “I think I love
you, too.”

Daisy Harris

Epilogue

Three years later…

“So…” Greg unbuckled his belt and shucked off his suit pants. He

wore boxers, and they looked deliciously stodgy and old-fashioned
with his new, almost military-cut hair. “What are we dressing as this
year?”

Nathaniel sat on the chair Greg had stolen from the Eta Xi house

to take off his jeans. They were covered in dust from the set at the
local playhouse where he worked, and he tossed them into the hamper
before they shed glitter all over their floor.

Then, seeing the hungry look in Greg’s eyes, he hopped out of the

chair before he got tackled. Nathaniel snatched his duffel bag off the
ground and dumped out the contents. He didn’t spend hours planning
their costumes for Eta Xi’s annual Halloween party just so they could
waste the whole night rolling around in bed. “No makeup for you this
year, I’m afraid.” He sorted the officer’s uniform he’d made for Greg.
It was mostly a real uniform he’d bought at a surplus store, but
Nathaniel had taken off the sleeves and tailored it to be more
formfitting, especially through the butt.

“Looks good.” Greg leaned into Nathaniel’s back, kissing and

nipping his neck.

“You’re not even looking!” Nathaniel scolded, but he couldn’t

really be angry when Greg’s bare cock lapped at his back.

“I’m sure it’ll be hot and cool and fabulous and we’ll have the

best costumes at both parties,” Greg grinned. After Eta Xi they always
hit the NightLight in Montpelier. Nathaniel knew the host and the DJ,

Diva and the Frat Boy

since he moonlighted as a lighting designer for some of their bigger
concerts. Impatient, Greg dragged off Nathaniel’s bikini briefs. When
he stood against Nathaniel’s back, all warm and horny and ready to
go, Nathaniel couldn’t tell if he wanted to moan or laugh.

“You haven’t even asked about my outfit.” He was only mock

pouting, but Nathaniel still appreciated it when Greg paused his dry
humping and said solemnly, “I’m sorry, baby. What are you gonna
wear tonight?”

Nathaniel smiled and dug to the bottom of the backpack. As best

he could with Greg crowding him, he held up his costume.

Greg smirked. Then, slowly, his face broke into a broad smile.

“Go-go shorts?”

“Oh yeah, honey.” Nathaniel bit Greg’s jaw. Then he lay back on

the bed, stretching and inviting Greg to do his worst. They were
naked already, and Nathaniel figured they may as well get the
screwing out of the way before they got dressed.

“What else?” Greg knelt on the bed, his eyes glued to the

iridescent silver short shorts. He licked his lips.

Nathaniel made his smile as filthy as possible. “I was thinking

maybe lip gloss.”

Greg let out a low groan as if all the breath went out of him. He

hopped off the bed and handed the shorts to Nathaniel. “Now. Put
them on.”

“Okay.” Nathaniel shivered, and his pulse pounded in his ears. He

felt like his cock was about to explode it was so hard, but he somehow
managed to pull the spandex up his legs and tuck his erection where it
was supposed to go. He bet it looked positively obscene, though he
didn’t check the mirror.

“Oh, man.” Greg studied him from head to toe. His eyes blazed,

and he even smelled stronger than usual, as if his lust was filling the
room with something thick and heady like a drug. “I’m gonna get
dressed now, and then I’m going to put on your makeup.”

Daisy Harris

“We’re only going to end up ripping each other’s clothes off,

y’know. Seems like a waste of time.” Nathaniel still enjoyed the sight
of Greg pulling on his skintight pants and buttoning his fitted tan
shirt. His shoulders seemed even wider in the sleeveless top.

Nathaniel tried to pull him back into their bed, but Greg refused to

go. He opened the door to their studio apartment and stepped into the
hallway, and though Nathaniel knew no one was outside, he still
crossed his hands over his hard-on. “Greg!”

Greg smiled. “C’mon, kid. Changed my mind. We can make you

pretty at the party.”

Heat climbed up Nathaniel’s body, from his chest over his neck

and up his cheeks. Even with his brown skin, he knew Greg must
have noticed the blush. “Oh, no.” Nathaniel held up his hands. “No,
no, no.”

But Greg wasn’t having any of it, because he grabbed Nathaniel’s

wrist and his jacket and pulled him into the hallway. When they
reached the elevators, he pressed a kiss onto Nathaniel’s temple.
“C’mon. You look amazing. And if you’re a good boy and stay hard
for me, I’ll fuck you behind a dorm halfway through the party.”

Nathaniel swayed in place, probably because all his blood was

rushing to his dick and draining from his brain. And it must have been
for that reason that the only thing he could manage to say was, “Yes,
Daddy,” as Greg pressed a button and the elevator whirred shut.

THE END

WWW.THEDAISYHARRIS.COM

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Retired party girl and science fiction enthusiast, Daisy Harris

spends most of her time writing sexy romance and plotting the fall of
Western civilization. Her books can be found on Amazon, Nook, and
wherever else fine erotic romance is sold.

Ms. Harris lives in Seattle, where she tortures her husband by

making it rain. She enjoys watching bridges cause traffic, watching
football games cause traffic, and blithely wearing wool socks with
sandals.

Also by Daisy Harris

Siren Classic: Ocean Shifters 1: Mere Temptation

Siren Classic: Ocean Shifters 2: Mere Passion

Siren Classic: Ocean Shifters 3: Shark Bait

Siren Classic ManLove: Urban Merman 1: Jamie’s Merman

Siren Classic ManLove: Urban Merman 2: Hiro’s Merman

Siren Classic ManLove: Men of Holsum College 1: College Boys

Siren Classic ManLove: Gods of Hawaii 1: Lei’d by the Shark

Available at

BOOKSTRAND.COM