The Wrong Type of Forever

Part 1: Bats and Mitchy (Chapter 1.1)

Book 8 of the Wrong Type series

Short stories for fans of the Wrong Type series. Read about your favorite couple:

Part One:
Michel and Dorian – Dorian’s jealousy reaches an all time high and Mitchell suffers for it

Part Two:
Bailey and Tyler – The brothers welcome new family members and new challenges.

Part Three:
Cody and Gabe – Father and daughter go through a relationship crisis that could make or break them.

Part Four: 
Val and Matt – Val and Matt realize the consequences of their neglect.

Part Five:
Jerry and Phil – The father and son get thrown a curve ball… Jerry’s mother.

**Warning Before You Continue: The story contains sex, graphic language, violence, and content which can be considered controversial (e.g., incestuous relations, dubious consent, etc). If any of the aforementioned bothers you, don’t read and don’t comment.**

1.1

Dorian’s nostrils flared as another gold digging, man stealing, stinky bitch strolled up to his muscle man and flirted like Dorian wasn’t even sitting there. What was he, air? Okay, publicly he and Mitchell weren’t a thing, but hello! Don’t interrupt when two men are drinking at the bar. Bitches!

“I’m sorry.” Mitchell gave that half smile he always used when he turned down indecent proposals. “I’m in a committed relationship.” He shrugged apologetically and turned back to Dorian without giving the woman another glance. 

The half-dressed skank sighed before sashaying her big booty to the next football sex god she could sink her teeth into. That’s right hussy, this football sex god is mine! Dorian inwardly reeled.

“Bats, look at me,” Mitchell’s smooth as velvet voice called.

Dorian did, shifting his attack eyes into puppy dog pouts.

“You know I don’t want her, so stop.” Mitchell’s sexy hooded brown eyes contained a bit of a gleam to match the smirk on his full lush lips. Those big brown hands reached for his glass of ale before raising it to that mouth. Damn, I want to crawl across his lap and-

“Stop.” Mitchell ordered as if he knew where Dorian’s train of thought was going.

Sighing, Dorian slouched on the bar stool and turned his attention to one of the wall mounted screens where the Atlanta game was playing. He’d rather be at home sucking his favorite Mitchell flavored lollipop, but his snuggle poo wanted to go out for a change since they always stayed home.

Dorian liked home. Home is where he could crawl all over Mitchell without the world butting their ass in. Because his Mitchell was a big-time football superstar, Dorian had to behave out in public. And because Dorian was Mitchell’s agent, he had to keep their relationship from being exposed because it could become a “conflict of interest” as his boss often warned him about. 

Dorian understood. Other clients might feel like he wasn’t taking their contract seriously if they believed Dorian showed favoritism because of he and Mitchell’s relations… And it would be the damn truth, no one’s better than his Mitch! His Mitchy deserved the very bestest of the best!

Dorian hated hiding his love. Everyone should know that he and Mitchell were each other’s hole lickers for life. He was ready to get it engraved on his forehead.

“Excuse me, are you Mitchell Pearson?” A man came up grinning.

Great…a fan… Dorian hated the fans as much as he hated the gold digging bitches. Even though his best bosom buddy was still a rookie in the NFL, he was the rookie. The one everyone watched – the running back with golden legs and hands that could catch anything… Even my ass when I’m fresh out the shower. Dorian mused.

Mitchell smiled at the fan before he shook the guy’s hand. The guy went on and on to tell Mitchell how much he admired him.

Dorian rolled his eyes tossing a pretzel into his mouth. Enduring it, he tuned out the gushing fan boy as he tried to focus on the game.

More fans came over, and Dorian got up to go to the bathroom. I wanna go hoooooooome… He cried inwardly. High school wasn’t nearly this bad. All he had to do was worry about girls drooling over Mitchell. College got worse because that’s when he started gaining even more national attention. People wanted to know how far Mitchell Pearson could go. Dorian always knew his best friend was awesome. And while he loved awesome, awesome gained too much damn attention. He groaned, remembering how many offers Cody got for Mitchell before she handed over that shiny gold contract to Dorian. So much money, just for a rookie wasn’t average, but his Mitch was worth more.

After pissing and going back to his table he found two women taking selfies with his man. One was draped over his shoulder as they looked into the camera. The other snuck a kiss on Mitchel’s cheek just as the flash went off.

“Oh. Fuck. Nooooo!” Dorian lost his shit. He stormed across the bar, grabbed his Mitchy by the shirt and planted the biggest kiss on him. Then he turned to the trespasser and growled, “He’s mine. Touch him again, and I will neutralize you. Do you hear me, you stinky slut? Neutralize.” Dorian raged as the woman seemed to get further and further away even though she stood staring at him shocked.

“Bats!” Mitchell slammed him against the wall and that’s when Dorian realized his bestie had pulled him out of the bar. “Simmer down!”

“But she! She! She mauled you!” Dorian snapped before he used his hand to try to scrub at Mitchell’s face where that bitch contaminated him. “You might have rabbies or something!” He squealed in hysterics not believing his Mitch allowed that woman to get so close to him. “How could you? Cheater!” He continued to squeal.

Before he could accuse his boyfriend further, a big muscled arm hooked around Dorian’s neck. Then Dorian’s face pointed toward the concrete as Mitchell hauled him away in a headlock.

“You might be batshit, but you’re not stupid. I’d never cheat on you. So, stop the theatrics.”

“Theatrics! Theatrics!” Dorian’s breathing couldn’t catch up with his mind as he felt the world was turning against him. A bitch. Put her paws…. On my Mitch! “You are mine, not theirs! I can’t stand-” Before he could finish, Mitchell had stopped, shoving him into the trunk of their sports car. Then he closed the lid. “Why the fuck am I in the trunk! Again!” Dorian screamed slamming the walls.

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