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He tried to breathe through the need. The ring wasn’t going to let him ease up on the intensity of his arousal, and the vibrator would edge him, keeping him right on the verge of coming but not hitting the spot. His mistress was an evil, evil woman.
Sam tugged boxers on for him, offering him some semblance of privacy, but there’d be no hiding how painfully turned on he was. If anyone needed to know where the sky was, he had a built-in pointer to let them know. Or maybe he could give them a lesson in geometry. Hello, let me demonstrate an acute angle for you.
Because it certainly was fucking acute.
When the guys came back in the room, they didn’t say a word about him or his relentless hard-on. A small mercy. They simply followed Sam’s instructions and grabbed him by the biceps to lead him to the kitchen.
“Walk, Andrews,” Sam said, giving his ass a smack.
Gibson forced one foot in front of the other, trying to ignore the way the plug shifted and rubbed inside him with each step.
“Where do you keep your keys?” Foster asked, all business once they reached the kitchen.
Gibson squeezed his eyes shut behind the blindfold as he focused all his effort on sounding normal. Everything’s cool. Everything’s good. A little prostate massage while chatting with the boys is not a big deal at all. “Bowl by the toaster.”
But it came out like, Bowl! By the TOASTER! His voice somewhere in the octave range of a preteen girl.
Pike sniffed next to him. Gibson looked his way, knowing his friend was probably enjoying Gibson’s discomfort a little too much.
“Take care of getting him in the SUV, guys,” Sam said. “I’ve got a few things to get from my car. And make sure he keeps his hands where they are.”
Gibson scoffed. Like he’d touch himself in front of the guys. Okay, maybe if that vibrator picked up speed, he’d have no choice. Please, God, don’t let that happen.
One hand released him as Foster apparently searched for the keys. Sam’s heels clicked, the sound moving farther away.
Focus. Focus. Focus. Gibson would not embarrass himself further in front of his friends. He mentally reached for something to distract him. “Where’s Sasha?”
“Oakley followed me here and took her home,” Pike said. “Your dog sucks as a watchdog, by the way. She was like, Hey, do I know you? Wait, you have chicken?! Here, new best friend, rape and pillage my master! He keeps his wallet in the top drawer and his family heirlooms in the closet.”
Gibson laughed. “That doesn’t count. Sash already knows you.”
“She needs to take lessons from Monty. He would’ve ripped someone’s face off if they snuck into my bedroom no matter what they offered. Then he would’ve eaten the chicken because . . . chicken. But either way, Reagan’s going to be the happiest kid on the block to play dog sitter for Sasha.”
“Sash will enjoy that,” Gibson said, thankful for the distraction.
“Wait, are we seriously having a conversation about dogs and kids while you have the hard-on of the century and handcuffs on?”
“Yeah, we are.”
“Awesome.” He could almost hear Pike’s grin. “I’m thinking this should feel weirder.”
“It’s weird for me.”
“And me!” Foster called out.
“Your dick hasn’t noticed,” Pike said smugly. “It keeps pointing at me. Of course, that’s probably because I’ve got my hands on you. I have that effect on people. Are you still considering going gay for me?
Because I hate to break it to you, but I’m taken.”
Gibson smirked. “Ever heard of a cock ring, asshole? This tent’s not for you.”
“Yeah,” Foster said, coming up beside him again. “And don’t forget the anal vibrator. Guy’s got no shot at standing down.”
Gibson cringed at that. They hadn’t seen everything, but they obviously had heard what was going on.
Pike sighed. “Ah, the ass vibe. Didn’t catch that part. Now I’m just jealous. I love those fuckers.”
Gibson turned his head toward Pike’s voice, lifted his eyebrows.
