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“Fuck,” he whispers.

I’m not a kind man, apparently.

I dig my teeth into my lower lip to keep from making a sound as Landon strokes his dick.

Last night, I almost blurted for him to shut the fuck up before realizing what he was doing.

Tonight, I fight not to make the same sounds, turned on just at knowing what he’s doing.

“Play with the head.”

I catch a whimper half a second before it slips out. I can’t say I’ve never pictured in my head Landon doing this, but it never occurred to me that the man would be so vocal. He’s talking to his dick or whatever imaginary person—girl, don’t get it twisted—he’s picturing, giving him pleasure.

I nod when he whispers a plea, my hand fisted at my side because he would surely know I was awake if I started stroking my own dick.

“Swallow,” he grunts, making me hate the darkness encasing us.

I want to see it. I want to catch it on my tongue.

Jesus, fuck. I’m losing my damn mind. I can’t stand the guy, but that doesn’t stop me from closing my eyes, waiting for those soft snores to start up so I can take care of myself.

My mind wanders, creating so many damn scenarios, all of which start with his apology for being a complete asshole. Those pleas for forgiveness don’t come in the form of words, rather his mouth on my skin.

“You look guilty as hell.”

I shake my head, unable to look him in the eye as I drop my phone beside me on the bed. “Just watching a reality show.”

“Yeah?” Landon says as he walks deeper into my bedroom.

I plead with my cock to flag, tugging the blanket at my waist a little higher.

“Which one?”

“It’s umm… the one with that guy, I mean that girl from—”

“You’re acting weird,” Landon says, grabbing my phone before I realize he’s reaching for it.

He drops beside me on the bed, the tension it causes in the blanket making the damn thing apply pressure on my dick.

I reach for the phone as he types in his birthday for the passcode. I don’t feel guilty about that. His passcode is my birthday. We’re best friends. It’s what best friends do.

“I haven’t seen this show,” Landon says, pressing play on the video I was watching.

I want to crawl under the house and die when moaning echoes around the room.

“I haven’t seen any of these episodes. Doesn’t look like Netflix. HBO maybe?”

“Landon, give me the damn phone.”

He holds an arm up between us. The guy is fucking with me, and I have to look away as my ears start to burn.

“That is impressive,” he mutters, his head cocking to the side to get a better look. “You always watch this kind of stuff?”

“Why would you think I’d enjoy straight porn, asshole? Super gay, remember.”

“Dumbass.” He chuckles. “I mean group shit. There’s a line of them waiting their turn.”

I look back at my phone, wondering how he can be so damn chill.

“It’s bukkake. I’m—”

I clamp my mouth closed and look away again.

“It’s what,” he prods.

“Educational,” I mutter.

I look at my best friend, wanting to laugh at the height of his eyebrows on his forehead. “Explain that shit to me. Educational?”

“I’m trying to learn.”

“How to suck off a football team?” He chuckles and shakes his head. “Oh shit. You and Seth? Things getting that serious?”

“Just give me the damn phone.”

I reach for it again, but he holds it to the other side of him, his eyes on the screen.

“It’s kind of hot, I guess. I could picture myself getting sucked off by a guy.”

I freeze, my jaw threatening to snap off it’s hanging so low. “What?”

“But that?” He angles a finger at the guy standing to the side, stroking his dick in preparation for his turn. “That’s hot.”

“Jacking off?”

“Not just jacking off. That’s boring as hell. But jacking off, knowing other people are watching? That shit is giving me a semi right now.”

“Gross,” I hiss, finally able to get my phone out of his hand due to his distraction. “Come on. We have to get to school.”

I stand from the bed, my back to him as I adjust myself.

“You’re not getting in my car until you wash your hands,” he says, springing up from the bed and walking toward the closed door as if none of it just happened.

Just another damned day with Landon Andrews.

Unlike Landon, I’m able to stroke myself off without making a noise or begging imaginary people. His light snoring isn’t even disrupted when I reach for the box of tissue tucked under my bed. Even empty, my balls still ache.

This semester is going to be absolute torture.

Chapter 13

Landon

I’m not an idle man.

I’m not the type to just lounge around.

There’s always something that needs to be done, something to work on.

But I can’t seem to even sit up in bed. The ceiling is no different, staring at it this morning, than it has been any other day for the last week.

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