Does he think the same about me?
“It is nice,” I say and lick my lips. Those honey eyes dip to the movement, just like they did outside the diner, and my dick reacts. “To roll over and not be alone.”
Emmett nods, his hair rustling against the pillow, and yet he still doesn’t look away from my mouth. Or my chin. Maybe it’s my bare collarbones he’s looking at. I’m not sure.
Any way I slice it, though, I find that I like his gaze on me. His eyes trained on me.
“Em …” I rasp out and those honey irises snap to mine. “Have you ever—”
“Jesus Christ,” Hatley grunts, cutting me off, and rustles behind me. “The fucking tension between you two is so thick, it’s makingmydick hard.”
I smack my lips and look over my shoulder just in time to see my best friend shove his hand unceremoniously into his flannel PJ pants.
He adjusts but doesn’t remove his hand.
Fuck, I wanna get off so bad.
I blame it on today being hell on my emotions. Exhaustion. The adrenaline still pumping through my veins and keeping me wide awake.
Or maybe … maybe it’s the way Emmett fills out my clothes. That he smells kinda like meandhim.
And I like that.
Or more appropriately, I blame it on how when I flop flat to my back and look at Emmett, I find him already watching me.
It makes me shiver.
And it makes me do shit I’ve never even thought of doing before.
Like shoving down the waistband of my shorts and letting my hard cock spring free.
“Hallelujah,” Hatley whispers and does the same. He groans the second his fist is wrapped around himself, but I don’t watch my best friend stroke his cock.
I watch the way Emmett’s wide eyes follow my movements as I fist my own dick and hold it.
“No pressure,” I whisper to the side of his head, and he swallows so hard, I see his throat move in the almost dark room.
When he doesn’t flip out and run for the hills … I cheer internally. Give a testing pump. Groan to the top of his head.
Shit, I’m jerking off between two guys.
“Help him out, Em,” my best friend breathes out almost harshly in encouragement and my heart thunders in my chest.
“Shut up, Hatley,” I hiss.
“C-can I?”
My already slow movements stall and my cock pulses precum at the question from Emmett’s lips.
I shouldn’t.
I shouldn’t be doing any of this. Most certainly should not have my cock out, stroking it, while my best friend and a former patient watch.
Shoulda never brought Em home with me. Or went to his hospital room. Or think about the way his skin feels when he lets me touch him. What it would feel like if he let me touch him for real.
Ishouldsay no.
Butfuckdo I want it.
