“Maybe you’ll invite me for a special viewing.” His eyes sparked hot.
“Maybe I will.”
My phone buzzed with a text, and I grimaced. Weston arched a brow. “Problem?”
“Christine.”
“Ignore it.” He set his bottle on the table and rose to his feet. “You’re busy.” A devilish light sparked in his eyes. “I talked a lot about sucking your dick. Time to put up. Or out.”
“Sounds like a good idea.” I joined him, and he slipped his arms around my waist. The bulge of his erection pushed against my own. I’d never been a person who thought about sex all the time, but Weston changed that. Fact was, he’d changed everything I’d ever known about myself.
The buzzing stopped, and Weston nuzzled my neck. “See? I’m always right.” His hands tugged at my shorts.
“Wh-what’re you doing?”
“Up, up, and away.” He hummed in my ear, then took my shorts and briefs with him as he sank to his knees. My cockswung free, and I was on the verge of protest but he took me into his mouth, and my objection turned into a long, drawn-out moan.
“West…ah…” I clutched at his hair as he sucked hard, his tongue lapping every inch of my throbbing dick.
My phone rang, and Christine’s name popped up. “Shit…she, uh…she’s calling now.” It continued to ring and ring, but I was too lost in sensation, drowning in a wave of desire I willingly let pull me under.
He growled and sucked, adding his hand in a rapid motion. I trembled from head to toe. The sound of people laughing from the terrace below, the knowledge we were out in the open, even as hidden as we were by the wall, was so dangerously exciting, I flung my head back and cried out as I came. West coughed and sputtered, come dripping from his lips.
“Guess it’ll take me a while to master the technique.”
Unable to catch my breath, I collapsed in the chair while West took a bunch of leftover napkins and wiped his face.
“You hear me complaining?” I reached for him, ready and eager to return the favor, but another text came through, and this time I read it.
I know you’re upstairs. Your doorman told me. And that you have a visitor. Tony and I are waiting downstairs to take you out for drinks. Both of you. *devil-horns emoji*
I groaned out loud. “Fuck my life.”
“What is it?” Weston asked. “What does she want?”
“To take us out for a drink—I mean, to take me out for a drink, but she’s outside with Tony and said she knows I’m upstairs with someone…” My face grew hot. “And she added a devil-horns emoji.”
Weston snickered. “She’s a trip.” He helped me pull up my shorts. “So let’s go.” He kissed me. “You can pick up where you were about to start later.”
I gaped at him. “Uh, hello? It’s Christine. I thought we were keeping this to ourselves for now.”
“And? Why can’t two guys just hang out to watch the game? Maybe we were gonna go out after. Don’t make it a big deal, and she won’t either.” His nonchalance was something I wished I could learn.
I chewed my lip. “I guess so.”
“Answer her.”
Sorry. Was on the terrace. Be there in a few.
“We better change.”
In record time, we put on jeans. I lent Weston a button-down, and I couldn’t help staring—he’d rolled up the sleeves and the sight of his forearms with the dusting of golden hair over his tanned skin was the sexiest thing on the planet.
Did being attracted to men make me an arm man? I gazed at his ass in my pants, and it was pretty nice, but it didn’t give me the same vibe as his powerful arms.
“What’re you staring at?” Weston asked as we waited for the elevator.
I jerked my gaze up to his smirk, and I thought,What the hell am I so worried about?
