Sean lay on the sofa bed, naked and fully erect. Eyes closed, mouth open and panting, hand wrapped around his thick, beautiful cock. He was rubbing up and down the reddened shaft, whimpering and sighing as he thumbed the crown. Even knowing how absolutely fucking wrong it was to watch, Tristan couldn’t tear himself away.
Sean dug his heels into the mattress, his hand flashing fast and furious until he choked out a cry and came, collapsing with a groan and a sigh. He wiped his sticky hand on his shirt, tossed the shirt aside, and was asleep within moments.
The sight of Sean in the throes of his orgasm, face flushed, eyes screwed shut, with that perfect mouth open and gasping for air, had Tristan out of his boxers and gripping his own dick. The libido he’d kept buried roared to life, and he bit his lip, tasting blood as he climaxed, spilling hot and heavy over his fingers. Trembling, he sank to the floor and wiped his hands, then rested his head on his forearms.
How the hell was he ever going to look Sean in the face again?
Chapter Seven
Dejected at yet another “Sorry, we’re not hiring now,” Sean plopped down in a Starbucks to drown his sorrows in an iced coffee. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could go on without some kind of income. His meager savings were dwindling rapidly, and it was demoralizing to keep getting rejected day after day. Much as Charlotte and Ray kept telling him it was okay to stay in the apartment, he hated being that fuckup brother. He knew he could do better.
“What else could go wrong?” He slurped his coffee and contemplated the job listings. His phone dinged with a text. “Why am I not surprised?”
I know I fucked up, but I really would like to try again. I promise to put you first. Please call me. Please. Love you.
Jerk. Bad enough he’d cheated on him, but no way would he take someone back who’d put his hands on him. No more. He’d made it too easy for Chad.
His phone rang, and he huffed out a sigh. Chad needed to give it up. But it wasn’t him. It was Charlotte. He winced but couldn’t ignore the call.
“Hi.”
“Hi. Are you working?”
He tensed. “I’m out trying to get something so I can start paying more for the expenses, but it’s hell. I promise I’ll find something soon.”
“Shut up, that’s not why I’m asking. I’m going to be in the city today, and I have a sitter for the kids, so you want to meet me for lunch? I’m dying for some me time.”
Suddenly his day didn’t seem so bad. “Sure. Tell me when and where.”
“Rosa Mexicano in Union Square at one?”
“See you there. And thanks for calling me.”
“Love you. Bye.”
He touched the screen for a moment. He still wasn’t used to having someone think of him for no other reason than loving him. With three hours ahead of him until they met, and filled with energy and hope, he redoubled his efforts searching for a job, hoping he’d have good news for Charlotte.
* * *
“So tell me how it’s been, living with Tristan. It’s been almost two months already, right? You must be hitting it off.” The waiter brought their drinks and a fresh basket of chips. “I saw a picture of him, and he’s very good-looking.”
“It’s fine.” He crunched some tortilla chips.
“You mean,he’sfine.”
“And? So what?” If by hitting it off, she meant how they now passed each other every morning and grunted on their way to the bathroom, they were best friends. Tristan had never been the most talkative, but since that day on the court, they’d barely made eye contact.
She sipped her margarita and sighed. “God, this is good. I’m glad you figured it out. I know I’ve said it a thousand times, but I’m really sorry. Ray said he’s a pretty quiet guy, so he didn’t think it’d be too much of a hassle.”
“That’s putting it mildly.” Sean played with his bottle of Dos Equis. “Sometimes I forget he’s there. Not that he’s around that much anyway.”
“How come? Does he have a girlfriend?”
The server placed a platter of enchiladas in front of Charlotte, then set down his sizzling fajitas, and Sean waited to answer until he was out of earshot.
“I don’t think so. I mean, even when he’s there, he’s not talkative. All I know is that he was an undercover detective and lost his partner in a shooting.” It was the truth, and a damn frustrating one at that. The time Tristan had cracked open the door about his childhood, he’d almost immediately shut and retreated behind it, watching a ball game or sitting on his laptop.
“That’s strange. You’re so friendly.”
