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“Hey.” He murmurs the word, low in his throat. A glance at the camera still shows the grimy ceiling.
Without answering, I set down my toothbrush and run a hand slowly through my hair, trying to figure out what’s right, what I ought to do. What I want to do.
“I’ve seen you watching me,” he breathes. “All day.”
I pick up my phone. “Your girlfriend seems like an exceptional young woman.”
He hums a soft, dry laugh. “We aren’t together yet. We were going to have sex for the first time tonight, then talk about making it official.”
My reckless heart thumps loudly in my ears. “You’re not in her room.”
“I couldn’t do it.”
I close my eyes. “Because you’re resting up for the interviews.”There’s your out. Please take it.
“Gray?” Not Mr. Freeman. Gray. He sounds hoarse.
“What?”
When he picks up the phone again, his pupils look blown out, almost swallowing his rich brown irises. “I’m really, really hard right now.”
I pull in a shaky breath as we stare at each other. And then I fucking give up because this is too much and I’m not that good of a person. “Show me.”
His lips tilt into a slow grin. The camera spins to a view of his lap as he tucks the phone under his chin and wraps his fingers roughly around the bulge in his sweatpants to display it for me. “It hurts when you get me hard. With girls it feels nice, but for you it’s like fucking iron. I feel like I’m gonna blow the second I touch it.”
“How do your piercings look?”
He grabs the camera and whips it back to his face, delighted. “You remembered!”
“How was I supposed to fucking forget that?”
“You wanna see?”
“What do you think?”
Fumbling the phone, he props it against a faucet and shimmies his sweats and boxers around his knees with no hesitation. There it is, even more perfect than I remembered it. And God, how I remembered it.
His flushed cock arches painfully between his thighs, begging for relief, but it makes the piercings look incredible, tight and dangerous. “Jesus,” he gasps. Swiping a thumb carefully across his head, around the titanium ring, he holds it out to the camera so I can see the glisten on his skin. “Look how wet I am. I’ve never been this wet before.”
I tip the camera away so he can’t see my head roll back and my eyes close, but I know he can hear my soft moan. My hand pushes under my towel and grips my cock, but I force myself not to stroke it. “Jonah.”
“Gray?” Everyone else says my name so seriously, a dour name for a dour man. He makes it sound alive.
“You want to fuck yourself for me, don’t you?”
“Mm-hmm,” he whimpers. His breath hitches as he carefully wraps his fingers around the base of his cock.
“Go ahead. I’m watching.”
He shivers, glancing at his phone. “I’ve been fighting this all day. I’ll only last, like, two seconds.”
“Better make them good, then.”
I wondered if the ladder piercings would change the way he masturbates, but he’s rough as hell, grinding his palm across them. Even though I’m not usually the one being fucked, I get dizzy imagining how they would feel pushing past my entrance one at a time, the drag coming out, that ring catching the prostate,fuck.
He pushes his head back into the mirror, his whole body tense, rolling his hips up to meet the movement of his hand and struggling to stifle his grunts and whines so he won’t wake up his roommate.
“You thought about this all day?” I catch myself rubbing my thumb across my leaking head.
