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Kruger laughed under his breath, and the mattress dipped slightly when he sat on the edge. “You okay, P? This seems kinda like a big deal.”
My stomach flipped, but then Kruger dropped over the side of the bed, landing hard on his ass. “Ow! What the fuck is wrong with you, Arsen?”
“It’s time you start learning some boundaries, bro,” he said, pushing up into a sitting position.
God, he was sexy. Not as ripped as I was, but I found that more alluring because the definition and bulk he had wasn’t honed from machines and repetitive swimming but more because he was naturally strong.
And, oh, that strength called to me, rousing the parts of me that felt immeasurably small and making me feel seen and protected all at once. The ink only intensified the strength for me because he’d sat still and withstood the pain of the art, letting it sting him over and over while the whirring sound of the tattoo gun buzzed in the air. I’d gone with Rush when he added some ink to the sleeve he was slowly getting done by Max. I’d been so curious about the process, even if I knew I was too much of a chicken to withstand the pain of getting one myself.
What I hadn’t expected was the sound. It had been unbearable. I had to turn the music up so loud in my ears to block out that heinous buzz.
To me, Arsen’s piercings in his nipples, lip, and lining his ear also represented endurance. Confidence. Plus, I loved licking across them, the difference between his skin and the metal fascinating to my senses.
I’d always known this man was my kryptonite, but even I hadn’t understood just how true it was.
Until now.
When sitting in this bed, tired and disgruntled about being awakened, with my best friend bitching on the floor did nothing at all to stop the throbbing of my dick and the need coursing through my veins.
He’s created a monster. I hope he knows what he’s unleashed.
“Boundary number one: This bed is not yours.” Arsen glowered. “Boundary number two: You don’t touch what’s mine when he isn’t dressed.”
“When I told you to treat P good, this was not what I meant.” Kruger scowled, rising to his feet.
“What?” I asked, glancing between them.
“We gotta leave in fifteen or we’re swimming extra laps,” Kruger said.
“It’s not even sunrise,” Arsen pointed out.
“Swimmer hours,” Kruger told him. “If you don’t like them, sleep at your house.”
The idea of not waking up to him was suddenly so bothersome that my hard-on withered. It had only been one night. I’m not counting that jail sleepover, okay? And we’d been rudely awakened, but here I was, stomach cramping at the idea of sleeping without him.
I’m in trouble.
Even realizing it, I rotated toward him, the sheet rustling slightly. “I have to get up really early for practice. I’m sorry,” I said quietly. Wanting to make it better, I added, “But you can sleep in. Just lock the door on your way out later.”
Kruger made a rude sound but said nothing.
“Swimmer hours, huh?” Arsen said, stare bouncing between my eyes. His were soft from sleep, and his hair was rumpled.
I bit into my lip to dissuade myself from falling into his chest and nodded.
“I don’t mind waking up early if it’s you I see when I open my eyes.”
So much trouble.
“That’s heartwarming, bro. You must watch romance movies,” Kruger mused, but I barely heard.
With a small sound, I swayed in, and he opened his arms, folding me close.
His palm rubbed my back, and over my head, he told Kruger, “You can go. I’ll drive him over.”
“Really?” I asked, lifting my head. “You don’t have to.”
“I want to.”
