Read Lush in Lace for Free Online Page A

is
over,” he grumbled, rummaging through the last remaining bag.
    I clutched at my chest dramatically. “Ouch.
You’re breaking my heart, Lush.”
    “You don’t have one,” he returned, searching
earnestly for the last remaining item on his list. “Where’s the
cake topper? I can’t find it? The baker expects it at the gallery
first thing in the morning,” he added.
    “Right here.” I pulled the lid off the small,
square box that held the custom-made, molded image of two men in
tuxedos, resembling our brothers.
    “Why is BJ down on his knees?” Scott
gasped.
    I shrugged. “I guess it’s because he’s the
one who proposed.”
    “But… it… it looks like he’s giving Jamie a
blow job for god’s sake!”
    I took the figurine from the box and
inspected it intently for the first time. Scott was right. The
figures were set very close together with BJ’s face almost smooshed
into the front of Jamie’s pants. To make matters worse, the
position of BJ’s outstretched hands could easily have been mistaken
for a male appendage. At close range, the figure was decipherable,
however from afar, it really did look like Jamie was getting
serviced by his groom-to-be.
    Oh well, there wasn’t much we could do about
it now. “Maybe it was made that way on purpose?” I offered.
    “Why the fuck would anyone do that on
purpose?”
    “You never know, maybe Jamie needed a little
extra convincing to say yes. As a matter of fact, I think a blow
job should be mandatory with every marriage proposal from a man
named BJ.”
    “Of course you would,” Scott griped
sarcastically.
    “Relax, Lush. Nobody’s gonna care. Why don’t
you admit you’re out of your league with this whole gay wedding
stuff?” I prompted when I noticed Scott blushing profusely at the
sight of a box of brand new, multicolored butt plugs on the table.
They were left over stag gifts that I’d brought to return to
Jamie.
    “Only after you admit that you underestimate
me.”
    “Maybe,” I agreed. “But we’ll never know will
we, now that the bet’s off?”
    “It is?” he asked, surprised.
    “You heard our moms, we’re supposed to get
along tomorrow,” I replied.
    “Well, I don’t plan on telling them about the
bet, and I can get along just fine and still win,” Scott insisted
adamantly.
    For the first time, I questioned the real
reason why he’d willingly agreed to bet money he obviously didn’t
have just to prove a point.
    I was probably the only one close to Scott
who realized that he was struggling financially. Not that he’d
shared that information with me. I, however, noticed little signs
that others overlooked, like the fact that Scott didn’t have a
credit card; his cell phone was terribly outdated; he didn’t use
his car unless it was absolutely necessary; and a good portion of
his mail came from a local collection agency. I’d recognized the
company’s return address and their logo on several envelopes
addressed to Scott when I’d visited Jamie and BJ. The couple most
likely assumed the letters were junk mail, but I’d done some
programming work for that particular organization in college and
knew better.
    A knot of guilt formed in my stomach. “Scott,
if you need the money, I can—”
    “This is about shutting you up once and for
all, Squeaker, nothing more,” he interrupted.
    I watched him carefully for any indication
that he was lying, but saw none. “Fine. The way I see it, it’s a
win/win for me no matter what.” I ignored the warning bells of my
conscience ringing in my head. The desire to see Scott Lush’s sweet
ass covered in lace easily overrode any lingering feelings of
guilt.
    “Okay, so we’re still on,” he confirmed.
    “I’ll see you squirm tomorrow, Lush,” I
called over my shoulder as I grabbed my jacket and headed toward
the door.
    “In your dreams, Squeaker,” he yelled
back.
    Definitely, I mumbled under my
breath.
    Scott had no way of knowing how accurate his
words were. Lately, there