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Max just smirked and lifted his beer.
Jessie chuckled. “Randy fuckers. The lot of you.” He resituated his junk, shook his head, and promptly walked away.
Both subs laughed against the other’s mouth as Nova sat straddling Remi’s lap. His hands were in Remi’s hair. Remi’s hands were up his shirt. And each was making really hot noises. Max watched them going at it. Grinding and grabbing. Pinching and panting and grinning. The two of them were gorgeous. An insanely delicious matchup.
So any second Max would be absolutely feeling it…
He frowned at his lap. Downed his shot. Drank more beer.
Hotter kisses. Rubbing bodies.
Wait for it… Wait for it…
Remi moaned out a curse. Nova gasped through a full-body shiver.
Max’s frown grew deeper. And deeper.
Goddamn it.
Nothing.
Not a goddamn thing.
He glared at his boner. The fucker might as well have shrugged.
What the hell was wrong with him? He had a hard-on but couldn’t get in the mood? They didn’t come much hotter than Remi and Nova. And yet for some fucked up reason he couldn’t fathom, he didn’t want to engage them at all. Not even for a blowjob, and that was just plain messed up.
His shoulders drooped. He looked up at the ceiling.
Should’ve had Sean blow him before he left.
Dumbass.
Max glanced back at his entertainment. Nova’s tongue was deep in Remi’s mouth. Remi’s hands were fisting Nova’s hair. His shiny blond hair, so similar to Sean’s... Max’s eyes hooded instantly. Even his cock gave a stir. That was it. He just needed to pretend Nova was Sean and—
Max scowled sourly, disgusted by his idea. Talk about defeating the purpose.
This wasn’t going to work. He could feel it in his bones. Hell, he could feel it in his boner. And he had to get up early for work in the morning, anyway. Might as well forget it and go home.
Defeated, he exhaled and dug out his wallet, pulled some bills out and tossed them on the table. He looked at the lovebirds, shook his head, then dug in and pulled out a two more.
“Sorry, guys,” he muttered, sliding out of the booth. “I gotta go. But not because your performance wasn’t hot. Because it was. Total scorcher.” The men peered up at him, disappointment in their eyes. Max slid his peace offering across the table. “I know. I’m a bastard. I’ll make it up to you. But in the meantime, have yourselves some top shelf on me.”
* * * * *
“Where the frick are you, you tiny little bastard.”
Sean’s eyebrows rose as he stood in the doorway, looking at a curious spectacle in his living room. Jonah, on hands and knees between the coffee table and sofa, head on the carpet, ass hiked up in the air.
“Um… Need some help there?” Sean grinned, shutting the door.
Jonah’s head shot up. “Oh, thank fuck. Get your ass over here.”
“What’s wrong?” Sean laughed. “And where are your glasses?”
“They’ve been retired. Got my contacts today.” Jonah dropped his head back down. “But they’re the hard kind, and one popped out.”
Sean hung up his keys on their nice little hook. “Oh, God. Are you serious?” He dumped his small backpack and headed over. Then promptly assumed position. Cheek to the ground. Ass in the air. He laughed. “Where were you standing when you lost it?”
“Right here. I think. Shit, I dunno.” Jonah growled and irritably got to his feet. “Be right back, damn it. Glasses are comin’ out of retirement.”
Poor frustrated guy.
Sean scanned under the couch. Just some dust bunnies and a dollar… Oh, sweet! His long-lost lighter! He swiped the thing up and kept on looking, but didn’t see any contact.
A couple of minutes later, Jonah was back. “Find it?”
“Nope.” Sean sat up and smiled. “But look. I found my Zippo.”
Jonah sighed and dropped back down to his knees. “Figures,” he deadpanned, pushing up his glasses. Then he returned his head to the carpet. The two kept searching until, finally, Jonah crowed, “Found it! Yes! The universe loves me, too!”
Sean laughed and sat back up. “Looks like your crush has competition.”
Jonah’s smile dimmed. “My crush doesn’t even know I exist.”
Sean stilled. “For real? You haven’t talked to him ever?”
Jonah shrugged.
“No eye contact? No passing smile?”
Jonah shook his head.
“Damn, Joe. You’re slackin’.”
Jonah shot him a droll look. “I’m not slacking. I’m shy.”
“Ah. You mean you’re chicken.”
“No, I mean I’m shy!” Jonah laughed. “God, you’re such a jerk face.”
Sean laughed then, too, and got to his feet. “Gotta don the balls, my friend. You know it’s the only way.”
Jonah sat back on his ass. Frowned at the contact balancing on his fingertip. “Yeah. I know. Soon. Maybe soon.”
Sean made a face. “Hm. Yeah. Soon’s no good. Entirely too subjective.”
Jonah’s cheeks flushed pink. He rubbed his nape. “Fine. This week. I’ll don the balls this week.”
Sean smiled and picked up his backpack. Then he headed down the hall. “That’s my guy. Now practice looking confident. Confidence is hot. Nom nom.”
