Page 28 of Beautiful Distraction

Holy shit.

I stare at his erection, the blood rising to my face. I knowI should head back to my room, but I can’t. I’m too mesmerized by what I see.

The picture in front of me is hot. Too hot. It’s so muchbetter than anything I’ve ever seen. And so intimate. I hold my breath as Itake him in.

All of him.

He looks like a god engaged in his favorite activity, hisbeautiful face drawn in concentration.

One hand is wrapped around his cock, moving up and down inhard, determined strokes, the other pressed down on his balls, forcing back theorgasm he’s chasing. His lips are slightly parted as another sexy moan ripplesthrough his chest.

I stare at the engorged head glistening with wet arousal,and something twitches between my legs.

He’s so caught up in his own pleasure that he doesn’t hearme, even though I’m pretty sure my own heartbeat’s so loud that even Mandy canhear it from her bedroom on the far side of the hall.

This is too personal. I shouldn’t be watching him,particularly when I don’t even have a good excuse or the right to be in his room.But there’s something about him, about the way he seems so caught up in hisarousal, that makes me want to stay, to break the rules.

Maybe it’s the fact that it’s night and I can be someone I’mnot.

Shit.

I’m probably turning into a peeping Tom. I’m a voyeur.

I’ll probably burn in Hell.

But I can’t move. The movements of his hand speed up. Hischest rises and falls. I can tell from the sound of him pleasuringhimself—pumping up and down—that he’s getting closer to orgasm.

I want to share that orgasm with him.

My own arousal grows with every move, every shaking breathhe takes, every swipe of his tongue across his lips, and the deep groans ofpleasure escaping his chest.

I bite hard on my lip until I can taste blood.

I want to touch him, taste him, feel him inside me.

I ache to replace his hand with mine as he strokes over therim of his head. Suck his tongue into my mouth as he wets his lower lip.

I want to kiss him. To cup his heavy balls. To take him intomy mouth, if only to release the throbbing inside me.

I feel lightheaded.

He has captured my breath.

The air I’m holding—I have to let it out of my chest,but I can’t out of fear that he could hear me.

I know he would.

But I have to breathe—fast.

Without blinking, I turn away, not bothering to close hisdoor, and quickly walk back to my room. As soon as I’ve locked myself inside,the air comes out of me with a swishing sound.

I sink onto the bed, my heart beating against my ribcage, myhead swirling, painful regret and trembling desire sloshing through me. Mywhole body is shaking, on fire.

I need him.

Why didn’t I take him up on his offer?

Holy shit.

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