Page 6 of Enticement
“Let it go,” he said, stretching his hand out towards her to pull her back onto his lap. “It’s no big deal. What’s the big fuss, Evie? We’re a couple in our own home.”
“He stood and watched is the problem. I’m not having him spy on us like that.” She neatly sidestepped to avoid Ross’s grasp.
“What, so you’d rather he’d coughed or something so we could run up to the bedroom and cower?”
“I’d rather he wasn’t here in the first place.” She stomped towards the stairs.
“Evie, where are you going?” Ross followed her a few steps.
“We need rules. I’m going to spell them out. It’s my home and I’d like to be treated with respect.”
Ross clasped the doorframe. He stayed just over the threshold and watched her mount the stairs. “Okay. Whatever. Go and say your piece.”
The guest room door was closed. Evie knocked and walked straight into a pit of darkness. Boxes of unpacked knickknacks lay stacked just inside the entrance, draped with an old Guns N’ Roses wall hanging. A pile of coat hangers clacked and scattered as she marched past, the light from the corridor illuminating the way to a neat stack of five unfamiliar suitcases.
“Let’s get things straight, mister,” she began before she’d even spotted him. “There are rules to adhere to if you’re going to stay here. I don’t like being spied on. If you come across us doing anything, anything at all, you take a hike right out of the door. You don’t get comfy and watch.”
“I’m on the bed,” he said. The lamp flicked on as she turned towards what seconds ago had been the darkest portion of the room. “You know you shouldn’t feel bad about being seen. You look damn good together.”
“I—” she began, then stopped. Mouth agape, she stared at him. Kit lay stretched upon his back on the narrow guest bed, his upper body supported by a pile of pillows. The neck of his shirt was undone, as was a section over his stomach, while his leather trousers were pushed down around his thighs. Her gaze fastened upon the tantalizing glimpses of cream-colored skin, and his left hand wrapped around his cock, the skin of which was a good few shades darker.
“Oh my god! I’m sorry,” she blurted automatically as she clasped her hand to her mouth.
“Don’t be.”
She took a hasty step back. He’d seen her and Ross and then he’d come up here and was… She couldn’t even say it in her head, even though the sight of him spread before her like a banquet made everything totally apparent. He’d seen her, and now he was doing that.
“Stay right there.” Kit pinned her with his gaze from behind the long shadows of his fringe. “I guess we’re sort of even now. What was it you wanted to say?”
“Nothing.”
He didn’t stop touching himself even though she was staring him. Hard as she tried she couldn’t quite tear her gaze away. He held himself differently than Ross, used his fingers more, instead of just relying on his wrist.
“You like watching, don’t you?” His tongue tip flickered against his full lower lip, and the corners of his mouth turned upwards into a smile. He patted the duvet. “You can come closer. I don’t mind. “
He looked like an indie rock god sprawled there, caught inflagrante and totally cool with it. Evie pressed her tongue to her upper lip and watched his long fingers play upon his shaft, vaguely aware that the motion was turning her on. She knew she ought to say something, maybe even summon more outrage and storm out, slamming the door, but the way he looked at her, so full of promises, sucked all the words of anger from her.
Ross had blue eyes—ocean-like, azure pools. Blue like the desert sky. Blue like a tropical storm. Kit’s eyes were like dark mirrors, wickedness and playfulness the only clear emotions writ within their silvered depths. He shifted slightly, causing the edges of his shirt to part farther, giving her another glimpse of muscle and the tattoo upon his hip.
Realization dawned that Kit was not the sort of man a boyfriend typically invited to stay. He was too confident and enticing. Nicely packed too, handsome even, if you liked your men a little on the pretty side.
Evie pressed her tongue to her upper lip, her gaze still fastened upon his cock as he drew his looped finger and thumb up and down the shaft. This was more than just her barging in on him now. It had turned into a performance. If she’d been single, that would have been fine, but she wasn’t. She was with Ross, and this guy was supposedly his oldest friend. It’d be best if she said her piece and left right now. Only, when she tried to speak, all that came out was a mute little croak.
She swallowed, wet her dry lips and tried again.
“You don’t have to say anything. I won’t intrude again. Sorry never really cuts it, does it? And I’m not, by the way. How can I be sorry about such a visual treat?” he said.
His gently spoken words made him sound like the voice of reason. He’d seen her at her most vulnerable; therefore it was only fair she saw him similarly exposed. Not that Kit seemed remotely vulnerable as he toyed with himself. His movements were too comfortable and precise. When she’d first asked Ross if she could watch him masturbate, he’d agreed but his cheeks had burned the whole time and his movements had been incredibly jerky. Through repetition, he’d learned to relax and had worn away the sense of embarrassment. Kit possessed no such fragility, or coyness of motion. He touched himself with the confidence of someone who was used to performing, and knew they looked good doing it. Each languid, feathered caress was designed to elicit a slow burn. There was no frenzy, just a soft whisper of enticement.
Evie refused his offer of a perch upon the bed and shuffled away from him until she found herself backed up against the stack of cardboard boxes. Probably best if she stayed out of his reach lest he suggested more than just watching. Frighteningly, she could imagine touching him. Not his cock per se, but definitely pressing her palm to his abdomen, and perhaps sliding it over his warm skin. Her eyes briefly closed, as she replayed how he’d felt against her when she’d wrapped her arms around him in the shower. She relived the jolt of fear and the fluttery feeling of panic, the latter so akin to tingle of arousal she zipping through her now.
Ross… She loved Ross. He made her insides flutter and her heart race. She ought to be watching him, not this man with a devil’s smile.
Her eyes snapped open again. “That’s enough.”
A refutal flared within the dark depths of his eyes, and then he moved his hands away from his body. “As you wish.”
“No more watching,” she said, just to make sure she’d been completely understood. “And no other guests, either. I don’t want a stream of strangers traipsing through.”
