He smooths a large, veiny hand down his thigh, and I home in on the movement like a damn missile, but then my attention drifts higher until I’m staring at his bulge.
Fuck…
Suddenly uncomfortable, I focus on the road again, wringing the steering wheel, and wonder, on a scale of one to ten, how angry my parents would be if I pulled over and kicked him out of the car.
With a little luck, he should be able to find his way back, right?
I glance at him again and my cock swells when he drums his thumb on his thigh. Even that small movement screams sex. Everything about him does, or at least that’s what my damn dick seems to think in his presence.
Discreetly adjusting myself, I almost swerve. Horny and fidgety. Not to mention grateful for the dark night, which hides the outline of my engorged cock.
We somehow arrive in one piece. The party is in full swing as we pull into the front yard, packed with cars parked haphazardly across the lawn. The house towers ahead, its grand entrance framed by glowing lanterns and marble steps littered with empty beer bottles. A couple makes out against the railing, oblivious to the thrum of music and bursts of rowdy laughter spilling from the backyard.
I cut the engine and point at the house with my hand still on the steering wheel. “Things can get wild in there. Don’t leave without me, alright? We’re too far away to walk back.”
My parents would wring my neck if something happened to Arkin at one of these parties.
Arkin says nothing, but his eyes warm the side of my face.
Flustered, I mutter under my breath and exit the car. Luckily there’s oxygen out here, unlike the inside of my vehicle.
Arkin shuts the car door, and I start toward the house, aware of him behind me.
When I step onto the porch, a guy with his tongue down some random chick’s throat breaks away and we bump knuckles. “Zachary, my man.”
I clap him on the shoulder and enter the house. The music is louder here, the base vibrating the walls. A group of people have gathered in the hallway, and we shoulder through. When I’m forced to stop because a drunk dude runs past in nothing but his SpongeBob briefs, Arkin bumps into my back.
Stiffening, hesitating for a moment, I feel his breath on my neck. His clothes carry the crisp scent of evening air, mingled with something warm and masculine that’s uniquely him.
“There you are!” Harrison calls out, finding us on the threshold to the living room. He glances behind me, and I almost jump forward when I realize how close Arkin is standing and what it must look like.
I scratch my neck as I introduce them, and Harrison slaps his hand in Arkin’s and shakes like they’re best buddies. “Nice to meet you, man. Welcome to the party.”
While Harrison has a one-sided conversation with Arkin, I flop down on the couch and rest my shoe on the edge of the coffee table. I usually live for parties like this, but now I see them from Arkin’s perspective—drunk, half-naked girls grinding on the makeshift dancefloor while some of my teammates hover nearby like hungry vultures. Empty bottles and plastic cups litter the coffee table, a fucking mess I won’t be around to clean in the morning.
“Baby!” Amy saunters over in a tiny leopard print dress and red heels. She plops down on my lap and crushes her lips to mine before I can say a word. “I missed you.”
Her tongue invades my mouth, leaving behind a sharp tang of cheap raspberry vodka. As she straddles me, a soft wave of vanilla perfume curls in the air, warm and sweet.
Ryan arrives and hands Arkin a bottle of beer, which he sniffs but doesn’t drink. Amy keeps kissing me for a long time, but all I can see is a set of blue eyes that seem to burn right through me.
It's safe to say I’ve never kissed a woman while staring at a dude. It’s fucking awkward yet arousing at the same time, and I don’t know what to do with these emotions.
Amy breaks away and presses her damp lips to my ear. “Did you miss me?”
Her hips roll, so I grab them to stop her from dry-humping me in public. I wouldn’t usually care, but it feels wrong tonight.
Ryan waves a girl in a short red dress over, introducing her to Arkin, and when she eyes him sultrily and walks her long nail down his T-shirt, my stomach flips.
Amy notices that I’ve suddenly grown stiffer than a damn corpse. “What’s wrong?” she asks.
Arkin isn’t looking at me anymore because his attention is on the girl and her flirty smile.
I don’t like it.
Not one fucking bit.
I’m about to lift Amy off me and tell the girl to take a hike when Amy suddenly stands up and pulls me to my feet. Arkin is still distracted by the girl, much to my bemusement. She isn’t even remotely shy about trying to bed him.
