Chapter 3
Three strong drinks later, Johnny leans against Brett, legs weak, feet clumsy, hands unable to stay in one place for long. They find the buttons on Brett’s shirt and slowly work them free, one by one, starting at his waist and moving up, until they smooth over the flat, tanned swath of belly above his jeans. Johnny’s fingers are insistent, picking at the button fly, as well. He gets the first button undone and manages to rub the faint hair that trails from Brett’s navel down into his pants, but he doesn’t move much farther before the photog catches his hand. “Not here,” Brett says, but his body seems to disagree. It’s in the way he steps closer, the way he bends down, the way his lips close over Johnny’s earlobe as his tongue licks out to wet the hidden spot behind his ear. He i
