His moans get louder and louder, and he scrunches his eyes shut.
“Freddie.” I increase the pace. “Say it. Say my name.”
He’s shaking and I think the only reason he’s still on his feet is because of Liam holding him up by his arms.
“Say. It.”
I’m close to begging.
Freddie tips further back onto Liam’s shoulder. His brow ripples, and his lips open. “Fuck,” he croaks.
I’m being rough with him now, brutal almost.
“My name,” I tell him, watching his face. “My name, Freddie.”
He’s there.
His body seizes as he holds his breath. I stop breathing and absently realise Liam has too, all so I can have this moment—this moment that’s slowing right down. Freddie’s mouth opens, his bottom lip quakes, and I mirror him as if I plan to catch my name from his lips.
I think I might, with a smeary, dirty kiss. But first I’ve got to hear it, his ecstasy-pitched voice screaming my name. We’re in slow motion now, but my unruly heart takes off at a gallop. I feel it pounding everywhere but especially in my aching cock, and there’s every chance the mere sound of my name from him will make me come.
“Alice!”
I freeze.
Freddie’s already past the point of no return and his cock jolts and jerks in my weakening grip. His cum splatters my trousers and covers my hand, and I know if I glance down, it’ll be a sight to behold. But I don’t. I don’t want to be aroused, and pleased, not when that name rings in my ears.
Alice . . .
It takes a second, but then I picture the woman at the bar in the skintight dress. How she twirled her finger in her hair and fluttered her lashes. Freddie was going to leave with her. She was going to touch him, and he was going to touch her, and they were going to end up fucking.
They both wanted to end up fucking.
I back away from Freddie, carefully at first before rushing the last few steps and colliding with the opposite wall. My breath leaves me in a whoosh and cum drops from my hand, hitting the ground. Freddie’s cum. I can’t look at it. I can’t rub my fingers with it or bring it to my lips. That name—her name—echoes inmy head, except it’s not Freddie saying it anymore, it’s her in a seductive purr. I see her half-lidded eyes and flirtatious smile.
She’s what Freddie wanted.
“Ryker?” Liam says. His eyes are wide, and his mouth is unflatteringly open in a gawp as he takes me in. I can only imagine what I look like to get that reaction from my brother. I can only go on how I feel, and I feel like ice has been injected into my veins.
I can’t look at Freddie, but I see him moving out of the corner of my eye, and there’s the distinct sound of a zip going up.
Liam must’ve finally let go of his arms.
“Hey . . .”
The voice comes as an unexpected clap of thunder at the mouth of the alley, startling me into a gasp. It’s Nathaniel. I don’t know how long he’s been there or what he saw, but he’s holding a tatty green backpack. It’s Freddie’s. Whenever he stayed over our place as a kid, he used it for his stuff, and when he got older it became his carry-on bag while his suitcase got put in the hold. It’s surreal that it’s here, and even more so that Nathaniel’s the one holding it at arm’s length. He shakes it and the broken strap rattles.
“The barman said you left it . . . and your wallet.” Nathaniel frowns. “I put your wallet inside.”
A long silence follows. Usually, I’d be the one to break it, but I’ve lost my voice—or more accurately, I’ve lost my soul. I have no desire to do anything but lean on this wall. Liam won’t be the one to break it, which leaves it up to Freddie.
“Um, thanks,” he says. He takes the rucksack, but doesn’t leave the alley, and neither does Nathaniel.
Nathaniel stares at me.
See, he doesn’t care that I’ve jerked off another guy. It’s not a betrayal. It’s a casual hookup and we both know how it goes. But he must not have had much luck finding someone else in the bar,and with the tension between me and Freddie now concluded, our hookup is potentially back on.
Or so he thinks.
