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Down, boy. I nearly mutter the words aloud.
Instead of gently shifting so I can turn off the offensively loud alarm on my phone, she wakes, feels my cock in her ass, and practically jumps out of bed.
“What the fuck, Lincoln!?” she screams at me.
“What?” I ask, sitting up and rubbing my eyes as I grab my phone to silence the offending alarm.
Her eyes fall to my abs.
Oh, right.
Last night, I got in bed with a shirt on. About an hour later, I ripped the shirt off and threw it on the ground. I was hot. It was restrictive. Boom, sleep.
I glance down, too, and I can’t help my smirk when I catch her gaze.
She rolls her eyes. “Please God, don’t ask me something cheesy about how I like what I see.”
I lift a shoulder. “I wasn’t going to ask. The way your jaw dropped tells the whole story.”
“You just walk around with those things locked and loaded?”
My brows draw together. “I wouldn’t say that, exactly, but I do try to lead my team by example, which means healthy eating and regular workouts during the season.”
“You’re not in season,” she spits at me.
She’s got a point, and I’m not sure why we’re fighting over my abs. Maybe because it’s covering the real thing she wants to fight over, which is my cock seeking entrance to her body. Any hole. I’m not picky.
She wants it, too.
It’s futile to pretend she doesn’t, to pretend I don’t, to act like neither one of us is curious about how it would feel now after years apart, years filled with different experiences for each of us.
But it doesn’t matter—not right now, anyway.
I need to get ready for my commencement address.
I hop out of bed and practically run into the shower. My cock is throbbing now between being so close to her and then her getting all feisty on me with those eyes lusting after my abs, and I need to take care of it in the shower. Speaking of locked and loaded, I can’t walk around with this thing raring to go all day.
So I give myself a moment of release in the shower. I grab my cock and stroke it, forcing myself not to moan as I pretend it’s her hand fisting me in the shower.
I think of her gorgeous eyes, those golden flecks. I think about what it felt like to have her tongue brushing against mine and how it would feel if it was my cock in her mouth instead of my tongue.
I think about sex with her.
I think about all the things, but when the idea of a future where we could freely be together enters my mind, I force it out just as I start to come.
I whisper her name as white come pulses out onto my fist, and just as I’m finishing up and ready to wash it all down the drain the bathroom door opens.
I freeze.
“Did you call me?” her voice asks.
Shit. I whispered it, didn’t I?
Apparently not.
“Nope!” I yell, my voice definitely an octave higher than usual as I make sure to face away from the door just in case she can see me with my hand still on my cock, and that’s when her eyes meet mine in the mirror.
There’s no way in hell she doesn’t know what I was just doing to myself.
