Page 249 of Better When Shared
Eight years of friendship, of late-night conversations, of growing desire—all culminating in this moment where fantasy threatened to become reality. The narrow hallway seemed to stretch forever, each step bringing me closer to something I’d both craved and feared.
At the threshold, I hesitated, a sudden wave of uncertainty washing over me. This wasn’t just about Skylar anymore. My growing need for Ryker was sending conflicting signals through my nervous system. I’d never wanted a man before—had never even considered it—but Ryker wasn’t just any man. He was Ryker. My friend. My fellow warrior in countless digital battles. The steady voice in my ear during my darkest moments.
He paused beside me, our shoulders nearly touching. When I glanced up, he caught my eye and winked, leaning close enough that his breath tickled my ear.
“This is how we get our Skylar back,” he said.
I frowned, narrowing my eyes. “By fucking each other?”
Ryker shook his head, that familiar half-smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “By letting her take control, letting her dominate us. Trust me on this.”
Before I could respond, he took my hand in his, the casual intimacy of it sending warmth spreading up my arm. His palm was calloused, his grip firm without being demanding. He tugged me forward, leading me into the bedroom where Skylar waited.
The room was quintessentially Skylar—smaller than I’d expected, with a queen-sized bed that certainly wasn’t designed for three adults. Bookshelves lined one wall, crammed with technical manuals and sci-fi novels. A large monitor sat on a small desk in the corner, multiple gaming peripherals arranged neatly beside it. The walls were painted a soft blue-gray, and fairy lights were strung along the ceiling, casting everything in a gentle glow that softened the edges of reality.
It didn’t seem like enough space for what we were about to do, but fuck it—I didn’t mind. Not if it meant being with Skylar after years of fantasizing about her. And if Ryker was part ofthe package... well, that was a complication I was increasingly willing to navigate.
Skylar knelt in the center of the bed, still fully clothed, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her t-shirt. For all her commanding presence in the living room, she suddenly looked unsure, her confidence faltering in the face of what we were about to do. The vulnerability in her expression made something twist in my chest—a fierce protectiveness I hadn’t known I was capable of feeling.
Before I could say anything to break the tension, Ryker released my hand and began undressing. He kicked off his shoes, peeled off his socks, then unbuckled his belt with deliberate movements. There was no striptease, no performance—just the efficient removal of barriers between us. His jeans hit the floor, followed by his boxers, and then he was standing completely naked at the foot of the bed, hands clasped behind his back like he was awaiting inspection.
“I’m yours to command, Skylar,” he said, his voice deep and steady.
My mouth went dry at the sight of him—all that muscle and golden skin on display, his cock already half-hard against his thigh. It was larger than mine, thicker, with a slight upward curve that seemed almost deliberate in its perfection. I tore my gaze away, swallowing hard.
Not wanting to be outdone, I quickly followed his lead, stripping off the rest of my clothes with less grace but equaldetermination. My jeans and underwear joined his on the floor, and I stood beside him, shoulders squared despite the vulnerability of being naked in front of them both.
Skylar’s eyes widened, her gaze traveling slowly over our bodies, lingering in places that made heat crawl up my neck. There was something intoxicating about being observed like this—being desired so openly, so hungrily.
“Kiss him again,” she said, her voice dropping to that husky register that never failed to send electricity down my spine. “I want to watch you.”
Ryker turned to face me, his eyes asking a silent question. I nodded, and then his hands were on my shoulders, drawing me closer. Our bodies aligned, naked skin meeting naked skin in a shock of sensation that pulled a gasp from my throat. His cock brushed against mine, the contact sending sparks shooting through my groin.
This kiss was different from the one against the cabin wall—slower, more deliberate, without the edge of anger and confusion that had fueled our first encounter. His lips were soft, his stubble a pleasant friction against my skin. I whimpered and melted into it, my hands coming up to grip his biceps, feeling the strength in them as they flexed beneath my touch.
His tongue traced the seam of my lips, and I opened for him without hesitation, the taste of him—coffee and something sweeter—flooding my senses. Our tongues slid together, the intimacy of it making my head spin. My hands moved of theirown accord, exploring the broad planes of his back, the dip of his spine, the firm curve of his ass.
He groaned into my mouth, the sound vibrating through me, and I realized with a jolt of surprise that I was fully hard now, my cock pressing insistently against his hip. More surprising still was the discovery that I liked it—liked the solid weight of him against me, the masculine scent of his skin, the strength in his hands as they roamed my body.
Most of all, I liked the way his hard cock bumped me, letting me know how turned on he was.
“Touch each other,” Skylar commanded, her voice tighter now, strained with arousal. “I want to see you touch each other’s cocks.”
We broke the kiss, both of us breathing hard, foreheads pressed together for a moment before we straightened. Ryker’s hand moved first, sliding down my stomach, fingers tracing the trail of dark hair below my navel before wrapping around my shaft. The sensation of another man’s hand on my cock—Ryker’s hand—sent a jolt of pleasure so intense it bordered on pain shooting through me.
“Fuck,” I gasped, my hips jerking forward involuntarily.
I reached for him, mimicking his grip, my fingers barely able to close around his thickness. He was hot and hard in my palm, the skin velvety soft over steel, already leaking pre-cum.
I tried something I enjoyed, smearing the slick fluid with my thumb across the head, and smiled at his answering groan. The weight of him in my hand was strange but not unpleasant. It was like touching myself, but not, and not as foreign as I’d feared.
I couldn’t believe I had Ryker’s cock in my hand, that I was stroking him while he did the same to me, that we were standing in Skylar’s bedroom with her watching us, directing us. It should have felt wrong, should have felt like a violation of everything I thought I knew about myself.
Instead, it felt like coming home.
I glanced at Skylar, still kneeling on the bed, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her pupils blown wide with desire. The look on her face—pure, undiluted want—was enough to chase away any remaining doubts. The way this turned her fueled my own reckless arousal. I loved the thought of her enjoying the show as I discovered parts of myself I’d never acknowledged before.
And the truth was, I was enjoying it too—not just because it pleased Skylar, but because it was Ryker. Because it was us, together, building something new and unexpected from the foundation of friendship we already shared.
