Page 36 of Common Goal
“I am going to sleepso hardin this bed.”
Eric smiled to himself and pulled the door closed behind him. When it was almost shut, he heard Kyle say, “Happy birthday.”
Eric had his jeans unfastened before he’d even reached his bedroom on the top floor. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this desperate to jerk off.
The moment he closed his bedroom door behind him, his jeans hit the floor with the loud clatter of his belt. He shoved his hand into his briefs and groaned so loudly when he gripped his cock that he shoved the knuckles of his free hand into his mouth to muffle the noise. He fell on his bed and slid his briefs down to his ankles, kicking them away as he yanked his shirt off and threw it to the floor.
Eric had never directly—or indirectly—compared his masturbation techniques to another man’s, but he assumed he was in the top percentile for efficiency. Eric was efficient in all things; efficient, disciplined, and practiced. He had jerking off down to a science.
He wondered if Kyle was stroking himself too. If at this moment he was naked and writhing on Eric’s linen bed sheets, his long, work-rough fingers working a cock that Eric could only imagine. And god, could he imagine it. Long and beautiful and jutting out from pubic hair that was the same dark blond as the hair that had trailed into the waistband of his jeans. Kyle’s abs clenching and flexing as he got closer to the edge. As he got himself to where Eric was right now, teetering on the brink.
If Kyle was jerking off too, was he thinking about Eric? Was he about to come with Eric’s name on his lips like Eric was about to—
“Fuck. Kyle. Please.” Eric whispered the words as he arched and came all over his stomach.
When it was over, when the last rush of pleasure had left his body and Eric was left holding his softening dick with semen drying on his skin, shame set in. What the fuck was he doing? He was a dirty old man jerking off to thoughts of the lovely young man who’d been kind enough to help him clean up after his party. Barely more than an acquaintance. A possible new friend.
Eric was pathetic.
But he was definitely attracted to men. His bisexuality felt a whole lot less theoretical, even just allowing himself to fantasize about another man. A specific other man. A man who was sleeping two floors below Eric right now. Wearing Eric’s pajamas.
Unless he was sleeping naked.
Oh god.
Eric took a few long, slow breaths and then began to reason this thing out. No one was getting hurt here. And Kyle had to know that his flirtations would have an effect on Eric. Assuming that Kyle knew Eric was attracted to him—attracted tomen.
Was it a problem if he did know? Eric had always assumed it was something that people wouldn’t guess about him, but he’d never been faced with a man he’d wanted as much as Kyle. Maybe his desire was plain as day when he was talking to him. It was something to think about, for sure.
Eric dragged himself into the bathroom and cleaned himself quickly. He went to his walk-in closet and found his second-softest pajama pants, enjoying the caress of bamboo as he pulled them on. The slick fabric felt cool against his heated skin.
When he got into bed, he realized how exhausted he was. As he drifted off to sleep, he thought of winter-blue eyes dancing behind glasses, calloused hands, and disheveled corn silk hair.
Chapter Nine
Kyle woke up late.
He stretched languidly, sliding his limbs inside the butter-soft layers of Eric’s expensive bedding. The sheets felt so wonderful he had left the pajamas Eric had brought him on the chair and slept in his underwear. The luxurious caress of the fabric had done nothing to quell Kyle’s raging arousal, but he’d resisted jerking off last night. It seemed wrong to do that in Eric’s house. Kyle didn’t want to be rude.
But now his dick was screaming for attention. Kyle did his best to ignore it, flipping to his stomach and burying his face in a perfectly soft pillow.
Eric had been ogling him last night, Kyle was sure of it. He’d been ogled quite a lot in his life, and the heat in Eric’s eyes when he’d taken in Kyle’s bare chest had been unmistakable. And the way he’d hurried out of the room, flustered and adorable.
Eric wanted him.
But that didn’t mean Eric was going to do anything about it. And it didn’t mean Kyle shouldwanthim to do anything about it. Eric, Kyle reminded himself, was off limits.
His dark eyes were off limits. His muscular forearms and broad chest were off limits. His silver-flecked beard and gorgeous thick hair were off limits.
Kyle wasn’t sure how long he’d been humping the mattress, but he needed to stop. He didn’t even see a box of tissues in the room.
He forced himself to leave the bed, adjusting his erection in his briefs and hoping it would fade soon. He normally indulged in a leisurely jerk-off session when he woke up, so his dick was confused and angry about his refusal to acknowledge it today.
He put his glasses on and ran a hand through his hair. He pulled on the pajama pants and T-shirt Eric had given him—both exquisitely soft—grabbed the toothbrush and toothpaste, quietly opened the bedroom door and slipped into the hallway to the bathroom. He wasn’t sure if Eric would be awake yet. He seemed like he’d be an early riser, but it had been a very late night.
Kyle got freshened up in the bathroom and considered taking a shower. His dick was very into that idea, but Kyle wasn’t going let that idiot call the shots. He wasn’t sure where Eric kept the towels, or if it would be presumptuous to use the shower.
The house was very quiet. Kyle wandered into the kitchen, hoping to find the coffee Eric had promised, but found it empty. The bottles Kyle had rinsed last night had been put away somewhere, so Eric must be awake.
