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“Can I leave the fishnets on under my jeans?” A smile blossomed over my face, and I resisted the urge to take my cock in hand and stroke over my hardness right there in the mirror so he could see it, to see if it got a reaction out of him.
What the fuck had gotten into me?
“Why the fuck would I care?” Royal threw back.
“Because then you’ll know they are there all night.” I didn’t give him a chance to reply, ducking into the bathroom before I exploded.
I slowly stripped off the skirt, unlike how I wanted Royal to do it, leaving the fishnets on while I looked at myself in the full-length mirror. I turned on the shower, stroking myself through my briefs, wondering if Royal would watch me. What was it about the skirt that turned him on, if that’s what this was? Was it because I looked like that much of a girl from behind? Or was there more to it? I didn’t know, but I wanted to. I wanted to know what turned him on so much. What made him so mad?
It was killing me.
I had to find out.
When the water was warm, I stripped off my shoes and the fishnets, getting under the spray. I should have hurried, knowing Royal was waiting, but if I had any hope of not pissing off him more, I needed to get this out. I wrapped my hand around my cock, returning to the fantasy.
He would come up behind me and take what he wanted, unable to resist. I wanted him as desperate as he’d seemed in the dressing room.
I braced a hand against the tile wall, gasping as I stroked, almost bent over while fucking my cock into my hand. I groaned out, almost slipping his name, but I didn’t dare. I wouldn’t be able to look him in the eyes if he heard me.
I rolled my hand over my cock, envisioning how he’d take his feelings out on my ass. Leaving his handprints on my flesh while destroying my hole. Would he whisper in my ear that he owned me? The abuse he’d wreak over my skin. How we’d come together in a violent stir of his masculinity.
I lost it all over the wall, shaking with the intensity of how badly I wanted to fuck my best friend.
His name was but a whisper on my lips, and that was okay. It was all I needed tonight.
I finished showering, knowing I had to get a handle on this fantasy. I couldn’t let myself latch onto it. He was virulently straight. It had to be something to do with him not getting laid in weeks, like he said. Royal had had a huge sexual appetite as long as I’d known him. I’d rarely seen him take even a couple of days off. As the lead guitarist, he didn’t have to.
Women loved him. Six foot four, tattooed and built, he was the ideal wet dream for the women who came to punk shows too. He looked just like the type of guy who’d have his hand around your throat, and you’d like it.
I didn’t know what was wrong with me. Was it the way he’d looked at me? He’d been a lifeline to me for so long. I couldn’t fuck it up with a crush. I couldn’t risk pushing him away.
I could only imagine my twisted fantasy came from growing up in a homophobic culture and some sort of internalized homophobia, but understanding that didn’t make me any less hard for it. I was half hard again just trying to piece it together. None of it made any sense.
Was I developing some latent fucking Daddy issues after getting beaten half to death when my father thought I was queer? Maybe I didn’t want to understand it. I didn’t want to explain the inclination to Royal, so it was better to fucking ignore it. No need to complicate my life any fucking further.
It was best for me to bury it and let Royal get over it, too.
I pushed out of the steamy bathroom to find Royal waiting with his massive arms crossed over his chest and the scowl still on his mouth.
“What?” I asked, my mood drastically improved by the release I’d just found, even if some guilt lingered over who it was about.
“You were in there a long time.” It felt like Royal was accusing me of something.
My cheeks heated, but I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of confirmation. Or even that I’d realized I’d been in there for longer than normal. Not when he was acting like this. “Was I?”
Royal narrowed his eyes. “What were you doing?”
“Throwing a party.” I flipped him the bird and shoved past to find some clean clothes, not even remembering if I’d brought any.
“What’s going on?” Kingsley asked.
“What are you still doing here?” He’d usually left with his partner by now. “I thought Lis was meeting you?”
“He couldn’t come. They have a surprise hearing, so he’s got to stay in Chicago. You’re stuck with me tonight.” King offered a grin, like it wasn’t always the other way around.
“Good news, I hope?” I asked. His boyfriend was embroiled in a legal battle with his manager. Not an uncommon thing in this industry.
“I hope so.”
