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A huff escapes my lips. “Trust me, Tomas. I will.”
NINE
Tomas
I can’t peel my eyes off that ass as Damon bends over the pool table once more. My entire body throbs with need, with something I can’t quite place. I want to kiss him, want to plant my mouth over his. So damn badly. What is going on with me?
First, I walk over to his house during a live porn shoot and fuck him with a dildo, and now I’m going around wanting to kiss him. I sucked on his fingers ten minutes ago for Christ’s sake.
And yet, I can’t stop staring at him. Everything just feels so wrong. Like I’m going to crawl right out of my skin.
I want to be alone with him, not watch him play pool with one of my best friends. A friend whose life is on the line if he touches Damon one more time. That’s not me. I’m not violent, but I feel violent right now. I want to growl.
“I’m ready to go home,” I state, just blurting it right out like a lunatic. It startles the woman sitting next to me. I don’t know why she’s still here. Can’t she tell I’m not interested? I mean, my eyes haven’t strayed from Damon’s butt since we arrived. But apparently I’m not making myself clear. I just declared like a king’s herald that I want to go home. All I needed was a trumpet and a cape.
But right now, I don’t care what she thinks. I stand up from my chair and walk over to Damon and Trenton. My eyes only onhim—on his back, his neck, on the sensual curve of his spine. The spine that arched up when I slid that knotted dildo into his ass.
“I think we should go.”
Damon looks at me curiously, his cheeks a little flushed from the alcohol he’s had tonight, but his eyes seem clear. He’s not drunk. No, if anything, he’s fully aware. Of me. And he damn well should be. I licked his fingers.
He’s mine.
“Now why would you want to go home so early?” He asks this with a hand on his hip and that sassy attitude I’m really starting to like. Okay, sue me. I’m obsessed.
“Because…” I look around the bar and then huff at Damon because he knows exactly why I want to leave. I want to be alone with him. I want to taste his sweet mouth, and I’m slightly freaking out about it.
I’ve never been into another guy in my entire life. Never wanted to kiss one, but I want to kiss Damon. And I’m tired of watching Trenton touch him. He’s all over him.
No one should be wrapped around him like that, but me.
Motherfucking me.
“Aw man, we just got here,” Trenton says, an obvious pout on his lips. Don’t like that much either. He looks far too cute when he does that.
“I didn’t say you needed to leave. We can call an Uber,” I say simply, and perhaps it’s a little rude. Okay, it’s a lot rude to my friend who I agreed to come out with tonight, but I can’t help it.
I’m almost certain that Damon will argue with me, but he just places a hand on my arm.
“Yeah, you know what? I think I’m ready to go. All this bending over to hit some balls…it’s made me exhausted.” He smirks at me, and my lips tilt up.
“You do like bending over for balls,” I say, and Damon waggles his eyebrows at me.
“I do. And I’m very good at it.”
I can’t disagree with that, turning to lead him away.
“Wait, Damon,” Trenton says, and Damon stops, turning to face my friend. “Can I get your number? Maybe we can hang out?”
He leaves the question dangling between them, and I fucking hate it. I want him to say no, to turn him down. But Damon just nods, making Trenton beam. Don’t like that. Not one bit, but I bite back my comment. I don’t even know if I’ll like kissing him, don’t know if this is some questioning moment in my life that I’ll later regret. Trenton seems to know what he wants.
And what he wants is Damon. Who am I to stop them?
The thought sours my mood.
I’m like a bad batch of grapes as we wait for the Uber to arrive. My thoughts and plans dissipate as I imagine Damon with Trenton. My friend. My co-worker.
“What’s wrong?” Damon asks, leaning toward me and poking me in the arm.
