I’m ready for a hot shower and a solid ten hours of sleep.
Pulling up to the cabin, I throw the car into park and hurry inside. I don’t even bother grabbing my bag. I can grab it in the morning.
It’s quiet, surprisingly. I hear the soft padding of paws head down from the loft, and assume Ayden is asleep upstairs, even if it’s just after seven. That is, until I reach my room and see the bathroom door cracked, steam billowing out of it.
My heart thunders against my chest. The sound of water hitting the floor in uneven rhythms makes me imagine the body it’s brushing against. Why is he showering down here? He has one upstairs, and has been using it, at least when I’m home.
Clover brushes against my ankles, drawing my attention downward. That’s when I realize I’d been fucking reaching for thedoor handle to the bathroom.
Withdrawing my hand, I suck in a sharp breath and glance through the slit of the door. I can’t make anything out. The mirror is fogged, offering no glimpse of Ayden.
It’s not something I should be angry about. Seeing him might make me do something irreversible and incredibly stupid.
I slowly step to the side, slipping quietly into my bedroom and closing the door. I release the breath I’d been holding and move to the dresser, pulling out clean boxers and some sweats.
It’s fine, I’ll wait until he’s out, give him a hard time about using my shower, and then take one. If he isn’t tired, we can chat before we go to bed.
In our own beds.
Alone.
Not together.
I need to get the image of him naked, merely on the other side of this wall,outof my head. My brain definitely understands it’s something we can’t be thinking about, but my throbbing cock has other plans for me.
Damn it.
For a moment—a simple second—I thought maybe I’d caught the end of his shower. That I’d be spared an agonizingly long session of him cleaning himself. But nope. I’ve definitely pissed off some god somewhere.
Because as I set my phone on the bedside table, I hear the slightest moan slip through.
Goddamn it.
These walls aren’t thick in the slightest. I can hear him moving around upstairs even when he tries to be quiet. So, to say I’m not surprised to hear him groan, and what I imagine is his hand hitting the wall that separates us, is an understatement.
My cock jumps, and between the noises he’s making, I step toward the wall that, just on the other side, holds the shower.
“Fuck,” he grumbles, and I’m so fucking hard, it hurts.
I quickly undo my jeans and drop them, before pulling my cock out and gripping at the base. My muscles flex as I release a quiet sigh. If I can hear him, he will definitely hear me, and Ican’thavethat.
He moans, and my god, does he sound incredible. I swear there’s a moment he begins panting. The image of him down on his knees, head up, and mouth open waiting for my cock has me rubbing the pad of my thumb over my tip, spreading my precum around the head.
I close my eyes and listen to him. Although I can’t hear his hand stroking his length, I just know he is. I’ve never seen him naked, at least not below the waist, but I’ve felt it and can imagine clearly in my head that it’s his cock in my hand, not mine.
My mind runs wild, imagining his lips around my dick while his hand strokes his lube-covered cock. I release myself to spit into my palm and go straight to stroking my full length. I feel my piercing brush against my fingers as I take my time, twisting my wrist and squeezing around the head as though it’s his throat choking on it.
“That’s it,” Ayden grits through his teeth. “Fuck.”
Imagining his eyes rolling back as he’s ready to combust has me beating myself harder.
“I’m… I’m going to come.”
As under my breath as possible, I croon, “Come for me, Ayden.”
A strangled moan accompanies the vibration of the wall as he smacks it. “Fuck, Keo, please?—”
I didn’t anticipate to shoot my own load so quickly, but as my abdomen ties into knots, I’m not given even a second to do anything but direct my cock upward. I make quite the mess, my cum shooting up across my shirt.
