I swallow. Hard.
Oh, fuck.
I’m just fucking trembling at this point and my cock hasn’t even been touched.
“Tristen,” Emmett whispers and its soft, but full of something so damnthickthat I bite back a groan.
“Please, Em,” I nearly beg. “You have my permission. Just … please.”
Chapter 27
Emmett
This is …weird.
Beyond anything I’ve ever done before.
I’ve never wanted to touch.
But Tristen is laying here with his length stretching up to his belly button, the tattoos on his chest staring back at me as Hatley whispers gentle encouragement.
And I want to do what he says. What Tristen acknowledges is okay.
So why do I feel so wrong?
My stomach flips when I inch my hand up higher on his leg. It’s just his thigh, and the hair is catching beneath my nails, but shouldn’t I be …hard?
Like they both are?
There’s a thickness in the air that I don’t understand. Some of it a byproduct of Hatley’s heavy breathing and maybe my choppy breath.
This is not how it normally happens.
I swallow hard to keep my head from drifting and inch my hand up higher.
Tristen shakes beneath my touch.
“Just like that,” his friend whispers and it feels odd to have such a gentle statement floating around in the air during a moment like this. “You’re driving him crazy, Em. Keep doing that.”
I don’t even know what I’m doing. Or why it’s driving him crazy when normally I have to—
Swallowing the thickness gathering in my throat, I shove my hand up until it’s wedged between his leg and his groin with nowhere else to go, and slam my eyes closed.
My stomach turns.
His balls are hot on the back of my hand.
Oh, God, I’m touching another man.
This is gay. So beyond gay.
The back of my throat burns.
“You made his toes curl, Em,” Hatley breathes out and my stomach rolls with a wave so strong that my eyes pop open.
Staring back at me is the leaking slit of Tristen’s erection. The entire tip is wet. There’s a puddle collecting on the trail of hair from his belly button and sliding along his flat stomach to his hip.
“Look at his toes.”
