Page 51 of Puck Tease
But the conversation was stilted, punctuated by unnatural pauses. Tyler wasn't focusing; I could hear it in the way hiswords would trail off, in the slightly delayed responses. I couldfeelhim glancing over, his attention snapping to me every time I shifted my weight, every time I rinsed a dish beneath the running water.
Jax knew it. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk played at the corner of his lips. Jax was loving it.
"You're losing, Ty," Jax taunted, a hint of amusement in his voice. "2-0. Focus."
"Yeah, well, the view is a little distracting," Tyler muttered, his voice strained.
"Is it?" Jax sounded openly amused now. "Tom, come here."
The sponge slipped from my numb fingers, dropping with a soft *plop* into the soapy water, sending suds splashing onto the counter. I froze, every muscle in my body locking.
"Tom," Jax repeated, the single word a command. "Bring us two beers."
My hands, slick with dishwater, trembled as I reached for the faucet, twisting it off. I grabbed a towel, dragging it across my palms, trying to dry them, to steady myself. I turned around.
Tyler was staring. He sat on the absolute edge of the couch, his controller forgotten in his lap, his eyes wide, blown out, fixed on me. He looked me up and down, a slow, deliberate sweep—chest, stomach, groin, thighs. His tongue darted out, wetting his lips, an unconscious gesture.
I walked to the fridge. The chrome handle was cold against my fingers. I pulled it open, grabbed two cans, the aluminum chilling my palms instantly.
I walked into the living room.
It was the longest walk of my life. I felt the air currents, cool and distinct, hitting every inch of my skin. I felt the slow, heavy swing of my cock between my legs.
I reached the coffee table. I set the beers down, the cans clinking softly.
I tried to retreat, to melt back into the anonymity of the kitchen, but Jax’s hand shot out. His fingers clamped around my wrist, a sudden, firm grip. He pulled me close, forcing me to stand between his spread knees, my crotch level with his face.
"Say hi to Tyler," Jax ordered, his voice a low growl.
My eyes, against my will, lifted to Tyler’s. He wasn't looking at my face; his gaze was riveted on my midsection, right at eye level with my junk. His face was flushed, a deep, angry red.
"Hi, Tyler," I whispered, the words barely audible.
"Hey, Tom," Tyler croaked, his voice raw. He brought his beer can to his lips, taking a long, desperate pull, draining half the can in one swallow. "You're looking... fit."
Jax laughed, a low, rumbling sound that vibrated through my wrist. He released my arm and slapped his hand flat against my stomach, the unexpected impact making me flinch.
"He is, isn't he?" Jax said, his eyes still on Tyler. His hand slid down my stomach, his fingers brushing the coarse hair at my pubic bone, a feather-light touch that sent a shiver through me. "All that gym time. I told him he needed to bulk up if he wanted to handle the workload."
Tyler swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. "Workload?"
"Stress relief," Jax clarified, his gaze lifting to meet mine, his eyes glittering with a dark, possessive light. "He's been very helpful this week. Haven't you, Tom?"
"Yes," I managed, my voice thin.
"Yes what?"
"Yes, Captain."
Tyler choked on his beer, a violent cough tearing through him. "Jesus, Cap. You got him trained?"
"Something like that."
Jax moved his hand, his fingers closing around my semi-hard cock.
A sharp gasp tore from my throat, my hands flying out, bracing against his broad shoulders to steady myself.
"See?" Jax said to Tyler, his voice laced with triumph. "Barely touched him and he's ready to go. He loves an audience."
