Page 13 of Never Will I Ever

Complete avoidance would be preferable, really.

I start on my hair, lathering shampoo in my palm before sticking my head beneath the spray to rinse. Ignoring the electric feeling from being this close to him is nearly impossible, and I even go as far as turning the dial on the shower down to cold. But the frigid water does nothing to temper the roaring desire at knowing he’s only a couple feet away from me.

Naked and wet and—

A soft moan comes from the stall beside me, and I almost drop my bottle of body wash on the floor.

What the—?

Another groan, this one deeper and more drawn out, echoes through the bathhouse. Loud enough that there’s no way he knows I’m in here.

He’d only be doing what I think he’s doing if he assumed he was still alone.

Oh my God.

As a few more seconds pass, I do my best to keep perfectly silent…and listen for any other tell-tale sounds to confirm my suspicions. Because maybe it’s not what I think. Hell, part of me is praying to whatever god might exist that Averyisn’tcurrently jacking off in the stall beside me.

But God must hate me, because after another soft moan fades, I can hear the distinct sound of skin moving over more skin.

“Fucking hell,” comes a lust-thickened voice, barely more than a rough whisper, over the water pelting down on the tile floor.

I’m hot all over, the cold water dousing my skin doing nothing to calm the fire burning inside me. And it only gets worse as more of his groans reverberate through the bathroom like they’re in surround sound. So it’s not surprising when the eroticnoises are enough to stir my cock to life.

Fucking hell is right.

Flipping the shower cold enough to become hypothermic, I douse my entire body in the spray before gripping my cock around the base and squeezing. Hard. Because I can’t…I just can’t—

“Oh, shit,” Avery groans. Then a loudsmackof his hand against the tiled wall sends another bolt of lust straight to my dick.

Ah, screw it.

If I’m gonna get hard listening to the asshole getting off, I might as well use it to my benefit. At least, that’s the logic my dick has thought up as I flip the water over to scalding, adding some soap to my palm before wrapping my fist around my cock.

Stroking at a slow, leisurely pace, my eyes fall closed and my head drops back. I allow the pleasure to build within me, despite knowing this is a terrible idea with him only feet away.

But I had to spend all day helping him lift those canoes, seeing the sun shining down on his naked, tanned torso the whole time. And it was torture. I had to look away at one point, because having him catch me jaw-dropped and ogling would only add fuel to the fire between us.

Now, though? There’s no reason for me to keep it from shifting back to the forefront of my brain.

Visions of wet, smooth skin and carved muscle race through my thoughts as Avery’s soft, low pants continue raining down on me like the shower I’m standing beneath. The combination immediately invades my senses, making my blood boil with the need for release.

My teeth sink into my lower lip hard enough for the familiar tang of copper to coat my tongue. But it’s better than the alternative: letting moans or expletives slip free.

The steam and temperature of the shower added to the white-hot lust running through my veins like lava starts overwhelming me, and I press my forehead to the cool tile wall to keep from overheating. But I don’t stop my hand from moving, nor the images from flooding my brain.

Of Avery in the exact same position as me, only this wall separating us.

His fist around what I’m sure is a thick and veiny cock. The muscles of his forearm and neck becoming corded and strained with effort as he brings himself closer and closer to ecstasy. To the infinite bliss that is—

Avery lets out a sharp hiss before a long, slow sigh of pleasure is mixed in with the, “Oh, fuck, yes,” he mutters.

—release.

His curse draws my own balls up, and I swear, I’m right behind him. I move my palm over my length while also thrusting into my fist, fucking it with reckless abandon and rolling the head with every upstroke. The pressure and pace I’m keeping primes me to launch sky-high into the stratosphere, and I’m craving the euphoria that comes with it.

So much so, I don’t even care about the plummet back to Earth after.

A soft moan manages to slip past my lips, and I sink my teeth into the inside of my cheek to keep it from happening again.

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