The Publicity Stunt - Ryden

Chapter 4: sexual accusations

He was infuriating. Usually i was insanely attracted to confidence, but Brendon Urie was downright cocky. I could punch him right in that smirk of his and not feel a ping of guilt.

He was just standing there. Just fucking standing there drinking the orange juice straight from my carton. I didn't know I could even hate anybody until I met him. "Are you fucking done violating my orange juice or should I give you a minute?" I snap after a few seconds, rolling my eyes at him.

He pulls the carton from his lips and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before sliding the carton back into the fridge and closing the door with a soft chuckle at me. "You really hate me don't you?" Hell yes I hated him.

"Well, every time i see your face I want to vomit so yeah... I really hate you." I replied calmly, strumming a few chords on my guitar and biting my lip gently as I practiced one of the band's newest songs, trying my hardest to distract myself from the fact that the man I've hated for as long as I can remember is standing next to me. Even worse was the fact that this man now called himself my boyfriend.

"That explains last night." He says with a soft laugh as he moves to sit next to me. "But if you hate me... Why the fuck did you have a semi when my hand was on your dick?" I stop playing and purse my lips slightly, shaking my head in disbelief.

"I didn't have a fucking semi."

"You were definitely rocking a semi. You were way too big down there to be completely soft."

"Maybe I just have a huge dick." He snorts at that, rolling his eyes at me. "I would prove it to you but you're well... You're you. And I kind of hate you." I remark with a soft smirk. I set my guitar back down in it's case and sigh gently, brushing my fingers through my long chocolate locks. I look back over at Brendon, who's arm is stretched out on the couch behind me, his feet on my coffee table.

"Just because you hate me, doesn't mean I can't get into your pants if I wanted to. I bet your one of those aggressive tops that loves having hate sex." He licks his lips and leans into me slightly. "I bet you've fantasized about shoving me into the wall and making me pay for pissing you off."

He couldn't be more wrong. "First off, fuck no. Second off, what makes you think I'm a top?" I ask with a lift of my brows.

"Because that's how it works right? I mean, a guy like you, all quiet and shy has got to be a freak in bed. You're probably all cute and calm until the minute you hit the bedroom, and then you're throwing guys onto your bed and making them your own personal cockslut. I've seen it a thousand times." He was right. I was a top, and I was a totally different person in bed. I liked it fucking rough. Liked making my partners scream my name. It turned me on like no other.

"And what about you? All that cocky energy? If I'm going off what you're saying I would bet you're a bottom in bed right? You'll be the boss outside of the bedroom but the minute the doors closed i bet you break out into a whine of 'yes daddy' and 'please fuck me baby'. Yeah, you're the slut that fucking begs for it. Begs to take a guy into your ass. You're the fucking dirty slut. And don't try to tell me I'm wrong." There was a smirk on my lips and Brendon looked like a fucking mess. His cheeks were flushed red and his eyes had darkened considerably. He was biting his bottom lip and when I looked down at his lap, he was rocking a semi. Oh how the tables have turned. It was nice to know I could turn him on with just a few words. I would be using that against him.

When he looks into my eyes i can see exactly how turned on he is. He looks like he's a second away from falling to his knees for me, and if it was anyone else, I'd be more than happy to have him do it. "Is that how you want me? On my hands and knees for you? You want me all stretched out ready for that cock of yours?" I don't say anything, I just stay silent and move to stand up. I can't deny how hot that sounds, but I don't let my arousal show. He's an asshole, and he doesn't get to make me feel all hot and bothered.

I move to the kitchen and poor myself a glass of milk. I can feel his eyes on the back of my head and I sigh. "We are supposed to be getting to know each other for the interview tonight, not trying to guess each other's sexual fantasies." I tell him in a nonchalant tone, turning to look at him as I take a sip of my milk.

"So I was right huh? Fuck, that's hot. Ryan Ross totally wants to fuck me." He smirks and I just about puke right then and there, but I dont argue with him.

"Just shut up and tell me your favorite color."