Music drifts from my sister’s room—a Taylor Swift song she likes to play on repeat.
I step into my room, toss my phone on the bed, and rub my tired face. That’s when I hear it… soft breathing. Slowly, I lower my hands. Arkin is asleep on his bed, facing away from me.
Curious, I walk over as quietly as possible, careful not to wake him.
He is so big and tall that the single bed looks like a kid’s bed with him in it, and something about his size tightens mystomach. I know it’s wrong to intrude on his privacy like this, but I can’t silence the burning intrigue.
Dark locks of hair tease his nape and curl around his ears, drawing my gaze.
My eyes linger on the curve of his tanned neck where it meets his shoulder.
His T-shirt stretches tight over his muscles, outlining his shoulder blades and the taper of his waist. Just below the hem, a small sliver of skin peeks above his joggers, and that tiny glimpse twists my stomach into a tight knot?—
My phone vibrates on the quilt, and I almost jump out of my skin. With my heart dancing around in my chest, I walk back over to my side of the room, where I should have been in the first place, and snatch up my phone.
It’s a message from Harrison about the upcoming game this weekend. I type out a quick reply and then pocket my phone.
We’re up against our main rivals, so it should be an intense match with even odds.
When I turn, Arkin is there, right in front of me. Stumbling back, I catch myself on the bed. “Fuck, dude! Don’t sneak up on me like that.”
There’s a slight tremble in my body as I straighten. Arkin stands too close, his eyes a deep shade of blue, like an ocean at night. I clear my throat, wondering what to say. He seems to have no perception of personal space because he’s right up in mine, and it’s tripping me up.
“Dude, step back a little bit.” I push on his chest, feeling the hard muscles tense. Thankfully, he lets me create some space between us.
Silence falls as we stare at each other, but when I look down, my mouth dries up.
Arkin is hard.
His erection tents his gray joggers, but he makes no move to tuck it with the elastic waistband or hide it in any other way. He just stands before me, unapologetically aroused, and my dick twitches, much to my horror.
He notices me gulping as I continue gazing at his massive erection. It shouldn’t be this hard to look away. Arkin remains a statue, his hands relaxed by his sides—big and veiny, like his forearms.
He’s not the only one who’s hard, though. My cock strains against my zipper, demanding release, and I have no fucking idea what to think of this turn of events. It’s unsettling, to say the least.
How do I even tell him that it feels weird for two straight dudes to sport hard-ons in front of each other? I’m not shaming anyone, but this is fucking awkward. The only time I’m okay staring at a guy’s boner is if there are naked women involved.
I’m about to say something—God knows fucking what—when Arkin walks past and enters the bathroom. He turns on the shower, and the sound filters through the gap in the door because he failed to shut it fully.
That’s another conversation I need to have with him. Doors have locks for a reason.
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I will my cock to go down, telling myself this was another fluke.
I’m just about to walk back downstairs—because no one can maintain a boner with their mother in the room—when grunts filter through from the bathroom.
Deep, masculine,sexualgrunts.
I pause, holding my breath. Is he… jacking off?
My cock twitches again as my heart begins to pound.
Crossing to the bathroom, I listen intently outside the door. He’s definitely fucking his hand. There’s no doubt about it.
His grunts and groans mix with the distinct sound of slapping skin and shower water.
I rest my hand on the wall to steady myself and breathe steadily. Okay, let’s calm down. My dick is throbbing, and it’s so uncomfortable that I almost whip it out there and then to soothe the relentless ache.
Arkin grunts again, and I bite down on my knuckles, hating myself a little for getting so worked up over a guy fucking himself in my shower. I swear this has never happened before. Dudes don’t do it for me. This is what it’s like to break under pressure.
