Which means I need to be a good friend tohim.Helping around the house, supporting him when he needs it, quietly ignoring whatever hookups he happens to bring home.
A sick shudder rakes through my body.
There’s only one thing I’m dreading more than dealing with my sister’s snark all summer long, and that’s witnessing the first of Griffin’s hookups parading through this house.
It will happen.It has to.The man couldn’t stay celibate if he tried, from the sheer number of willing women who are drawn to him like a magnet.I might even climb his bones once I get to my own ovulation window, because those muscles are a siren song no woman can resist.He must need to shoo away the willing playthings with his hockey stick.He could block traffic with lusty puck bunnies.
Casey.Finish your omelet and go read.
I come up for air from my Griffin spiral, not liking the weird knot in my gut or the fact that my chest is all tight now.The spiral is proof that Chaotic Casey is still at the wheel.
Like always, I’ve made a decision that seems sound but is actually pushing me into chaos.By agreeing to live with Griffin, I’ve set myself up for failure, and I’ve barely even started the summer.
But does it have to be a failure?
I can be his friend.I can restrain myself.I can do this.
Chaotic Casey might have gotten me into this situation, but I’m dead set on making sure she doesn’t drive the metaphorical car of our summer straight into a dumpster.
CHAPTER NINE
GRIFFIN
My eyes pop open before my alarm goes off.Based on the brightness breaking through the dark blinds of my bedroom, I can tell it’s early.I roll over and peek at the bedside clock.
Seven.
I don’t need to be up this early.
But I’ve been up this early almost every day for the past week because I keep having R-rated dreams about my new roommate that leave my cock begging for attention.
A deep sigh rumbles out of me as I toss the covers off and head to the bathroom for a quick piss.When I’m back in my bed, I’m barely back between the sheets before my cock is in my hand.I’m not opposed to a good morning jackoff session, but this week with Casey under my roof has been a special kind of commitment to self-pleasure.
As in I can’t make it through the day without tugging on my dick and imagining her on top of me.
In this morning’s dream, I’d had her bent over the armrest of my couch, sinking into her slit over and over and over again.My eyes close again as I imagine her sexy silhouette.How she’d look splayed out, bare assed and begging for it.My abs are tense—I’m so fucking close already because my subconscious can’t stop imagining this.
The way I’d sweep those golden brunette tresses up and hold them at the nape of her neck.The way she’d look up at me.The way she’d chant my name after I buried my head between her legs and drew out every last drop of her orgasm.
A low, guttural moan escapes me.I can’t even stop it.My cock spasms, and soon my hand is coated with my cum.I sigh heavily—a mixture of relief and resignation—and reach for the tissues on the nightstand.
I can handle jacking off every morning for a summer.It’s a small price to pay for being a good friend and helping Casey get on her feet again.
It’swaybetter than the alternative, which is to blast open something between us that either ruins our friendship entirely or derails my career once and for all.
I’ve been there before, standing at the precipice of wrecking everything I worked for.It happened my senior year of college, right before I signed with the Crushers.I’d been so in love, so swept away, I almost let it derail my future.I skipped optional skates to drive my girlfriend to campus.My numbers dipped right when the scouts were watching.And when I no-showed a tryout for her, it took Neil two weeks of phone calls to get the Crushers to look at me again.
I’m not letting my priorities slip a second time.
My heart’s not getting involved with anyone again, not to that level.Love distracts, and I’m here to focus.As long as I can jack off three times a day, I’m good.
As I’m tossing the tissue, I hear a thud from somewhere inside the house.Probably Casey…though I hope not because then maybe she heard me beating off.I run through the likelihood of such a thing—Casey doesn’t wake up this early normally, so why would she just happen to be awake this morning?—then decide that even if she was awake, she probably didn’t overhear what just happened in my bedroom.
Done and settled.
I slip out of my bedroom.First thing I notice is Casey in the living room, curled up on the couch.Shit.
“Morning,” I say gruffly, my voice extra deep from sleep.I lock myself in the bathroom, staring at my reflection for a few moments.
