Of course I jerk off. Do I really need to say it? How does he think I nap? But oh, shit, the way his gaze roams up my bare legs and over my ass before it pops to my face has me pulling a pillow down to cover my crotch. The man is on my bed, practically reeking of Isaac, and I still get hard for him.
Or maybe it’s the scent of Isaac I’m responding to. Muscle memory or something like that. After two days of spending every waking second with my dad and stepmom practically glued to me, I was looking forward to being alone and having some fucking space, but all I can think with Deacon in my bed is that I wish he were closer, crowding me.
I was pretty proud of myself for pushing him away the other night––for about ten minutes, and then regret set in. Deacon was finally willing to kiss me, and even if it was a pity kiss, I should have taken it. Then I could stop imagining what it would be like. Now when I’m jerking off, I’m stuck with all these weird, split screen fantasies that start off imagining kissing Deacon, but then my dumb Isaac brain takes over with real memories and known sensations, and I pretty much always come to a memory of Isaac coming.
It’s all very pathetic and depressing, but I know I need to be a good sport about it if I want to keep my job and my apartment. Not that I think either man would kick me to the curb, but I’m worried about my own ability to tolerate seeing the two of them in a serious relationship.
Still, I need to give it some time. It might not be as bad as I’m imagining. Also, they’re not the only two guys in town. I just need to get out more and find my own date. I wonder if I can borrow Sam and Calyx’s girlfriends Rachel and Priya. They know how to have a good time, and I’m sure they know plenty of people.
Maybe after a month in the gym, though. Ever since I stopped doing the cam boy thing, I haven’t been paying as much attention to my arms and abs. They’re not flabby, but they could use some buffing up. Yeah—a month sounds reasonable.
“I’m not leaving it out,” I say to Deacon in regards to leaving out a “crucial” coping skill. “I just figured jerking off was a given.”
His gaze drifts down my body again, this time stopping at the edge of my white crew socks. I cross my feet self-consciously. “What are you thinking about?” I ask after he stares for several seconds.
“What you’re wearing,” he says.
“What about it?”
“I was thinking I’m the only person who ever sees you like this. Unless this is what you wore at your dad’s house.”
My heart rate picks up. “Something like it. Longer shorts.”
“Why?”
“I don’t need my stepmom seeing my nutsack.”
“You don’t wear underwear?”
Where the hell is this headed?“It’s fifty-fifty.” I realize this is Deacon, and sometimes he just says random things. If he’s got any game, I’ve never seen it, but I like to think Isaac isn’t theeasiest man to seduce, so maybe Deacon has a few techniques. Not that he’s using any of them here. Right?
It occurs to me I haven’t had sex in going on five days, which is kind of a long time. I wouldn’t call myself sex-driven or obsessed, but my dick is acting like it’s been forced into starvation, and Deacon is a potential snack, which explains the big boner I’m hiding.
“Are you wearing any now?”
“No comment,” I say.
“I’m guessing no.”
Good guess.I didn’t think I was going to see anyone tonight. I got home, took a shower and a nap before I got up to code. No briefs required. Now, however… I’m not sure how I feel about freeballing it.
“You definitely don’t repulse me,” he says.
I blink hard.
He goes on like he’s having the conversation with himself. “I never noticed you were interested. I guess I miss signals, but Bailey says it’s obvious.”
“You talked to Bailey about me?” I whisper, not really wanting to interrupt his train of thought, but unable to help myself when he name dropped our friend.
“Like I should have given you a chance.”
I can’t tell if that’s an answer, an admission, or an excuse. I shut my mouth. While I should be stopping this and encouraging him to go off and do his own thing, I’ve been craving a certain kind of attention from Deacon for months, and this might not be thatexactly, but it’s in the neighborhood.
“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” he asks.
“I thought you had someone. You were gone every weekend. Also, I wasn’t sure you were gay.”
“Why didn’t you ask?”
