When I stood up, my tight pants continued to be a problem. If Brady glanced in my direction, he’d definitely notice it. I figured this was a good time to slip away and deal with it before he saw it.
I cleared my throat. “I’m going to wash up. You sit here and relax.”
I shuffled to the back without giving Brady a chance to respond. My erection chafed in my jeans. Dammit, couldn’t it wait until I got home?
Apparently not. Now that the job was done, the dam broke. All my pent-up arousal exploded. I was hard as fuck.
I hid in the bathroom, shutting the door quickly behind me. Once inside, I let out a breath of relief. I had a couple minutes of privacy to deal with the problem before Brady would expect me back.
I roughly tugged the waistband of my jeans and boxers down below my hips. My throbbing cock broke free, bouncing in the air. It strained for attention, desperate to be touched after hours so close to my fated mate...
As I wrapped my fingers around it, I wished it was Brady’s hand instead. But even after confessing that I was a tyger shifter—which was a monumental task—I hadn’t told Brady he was my fated mate. I thought it would be too much on top of what I’d already unloaded, that I’d scare him away.
I shut my eyes, ready to get myself off as fast as possible—
A knock came at the door.
My eyes snapped open. I froze, not knowing what to do. The only other person in the studio was Brady, and he knew I was in the bathroom. Did he have an emergency?
“TJ?” His voice was muffled by the door.
I stood there like a statue. But I wouldn’t ignore him—I couldn’t.
“I’m here,” I said.
He paused, making me a bit worried. “Is it okay if I come in? I just need to see you for a second...”
I bit my lip. I’d been so close to jerking myself off and getting my impatient erection out of the way, but now it had to wait again.
I reached for my lowered jeans. “Sure, give me one second—”
The door opened.
My cock hung out as Brady walked in. He stopped and stared at it.
Embarrassment flooded me, but I was frozen by Brady's sudden appearance. I couldn't move to cover myself up.
“I’m so sorry,” I said.
Brady shook his head. He was still looking at my throbbing erection, which turned me on fiercely. It was my mate’s first time seeing it—and I had to admit, he looked intrigued.
"Don't be sorry," Brady said, his voice husky.
His eyes were glued to my cock, and they shimmered with a glassy want. It made me even more aroused. But I hesitated to move. If I did, I didn't know if I could control my alpha instincts. I'd want to jump on Brady and claim him.
But Brady didn't try to leave, either. He stood there as if entranced. It created a feedback loop—the longer Brady stared at my cock, the harder it became, and the deeper he gazed at it.
Then I glimpsed the growing bulge in Brady's pants and understood.
He was hard, too.
Like gas thrown on a fire, my arousal exploded. Seeing my fated mate turned on like that made me want to ravage him.
My mouth went dry as Brady stepped closer. All I heard was the rushing blood in my head and the pounding of my heart. Soon Brady was within kissing distance.
Was this really happening?
"I should be the one who's sorry," Brady said quietly, casting his gaze downward. "I walked in on you in the middle of your... activity."
