Page 19 of Him
I swallowed a mouthful of whiskey. For courage. Then I put a hand between my legs, just resting it there. “This is killing me,” I said. It was the most truthful statement I’d made all day. I took a slow stroke down my hard cock and then back up again. I could feel his eyes on me, on my hand. And that made me even crazier. Forget the screen. I’d rather star in my own solo act right here, with my favorite pair of brown eyes as the only audience.
My heart started to pound, because I knew what I was about to do.
There’s this cliff at the swimming hole we liked, a twenty-foot drop into the lake, and that night, it was like I was standing atop it. Like I was creeping toward the edge and pulling him with me. I remember one year when Canning was taking so long to jump I’d lost patience and pushed him off, cackling as I watched him windmill down to the water below.
But I couldn’t do that this time. I couldn’t push him. He had to jump.
I licked my dry lips. “I really need to jerk. You mind?”
His moment of hesitation practically killed me. “Go ahead. We shower in the same room, right? Hell.” He chuckled. “We crap in the same room. Though there’s walls.”
There weren’t any here.
I shoved my hand under my waistband and gripped my aching shaft. I didn’t whip it out, though. Just gave it a slow tug beneath my shorts.
His eyes had filled with surprise, then flashed with something that sucked the breath right out of my lungs. Not anger. Not annoyance.
Arousal.
Holy hell, he was getting off on seeing me jerk it. And neither of us was looking at the laptop now. Canning’s gaze stayed glued to the slow movement of my hand beneath my shorts.
“You can, too.” I hated the gravelly sound of my voice just then, because I knew that I had an agenda. “Go ahead. It’ll be less weird for me.”
Hell. I was like the serpent shoving the apple at Eve. Or rather the banana…
All the bad analogies fled my stupid brain a moment later when Jamie reached into his shorts and pulled his dick all the way out.
My heart shimmied in my chest at the sight. He was pink and thick and perfect. With the fingers of one hand he stroked the underside—up and down. The lightest touch. I envied those fingertips.
I cupped my aching balls and tried to take a deep breath. My chest was tight from wanting him. He was right there—his hip touching mine. I wanted to bend down and take him in my mouth. I wanted it so badly I could taste it.
His eyes went back to the screen. I felt him sink a little further back into the bed. We were both stroking in earnest now. His breathing became shallower, and the sound of it sent another shot of lust up my spine. I wanted to be the one making him pant like that. But then his pace faltered, and I looked up to find out why.
The video had ended. I’d chosen a clip that was only a few minutes long. And now the screen had frozen on a menu of clips, but the thumbnail photo displayed most prominently was this awful shot of a woman’s giant ass.
“Um…” Jamie actually chuckled. “That’s not getting the job done.”
I felt a sort of awareness settle over me then. In hockey, when a shot opens up, a good player has to react immediately. That’s exactly what was happening here. A window of opportunity had cracked open a sliver, and I was going to dive through it.
“You could call in your bet,” I croaked.
Stroking himself, he let out a hot breath. “You daring me to?”
“Yeah.”
His throat worked as he swallowed. His eyes flickered with a parade of emotions I couldn’t keep up with. Reluctance. Heat. Confusion. Heat. Irritation. Heat.
“I…” He laughed, his voice hoarse. He stopped, cleared his throat. “Double dog dare you.”
His gaze locked with mine again and I almost came right there and then. My cock had swelled in my hand, pulsing. Aching. But somehow I managed to put on a careless tone, my trademark up-for-anything drawl that half the time is a total front.
“Well. This should be interesting.”
The faint hint of panic on his face was unmistakable, but I didn’t give him time to back out. I wanted him too much. I’d always fucking wanted this guy.
Releasing myself, I reached over to cover his hand with mine. He tensed, and for a split second I thought he was going to push me away.
I wouldn’t have blamed him.
