Page 23 of Wild Fire

“You hungry?” he asks, looking over my shoulder, like somehow he just knows. But that’s impossible. AJ isn’t a psychic.

You don’t know that. He could be!

I roll my eyes at my own inner monologue before I answer him.

“Yeah, actually I’m starving.”

“I’ll make us some breakfast,” he says, as he hurries down the hall to the kitchen, leaving me to the bathroom.

A strange sense of emptiness forms in my chest, which I can’t explain. He’s just down the hall. It’s not like I’m alone or anything.

I push the thought aside and do my business, which is not as easy as it should be because I’m hard. Probably from thinking about AJ’s perfect ass.

As if nodding in agreement, my cock jumps, and I debate if I should just jerk off now. I know it would be hella weird to do that in someone else’s house. A flash of memory from last night hits me, of AJ’s hand around my hand…

Which was around my cock.

Oh, fuck!

My cheeks heat as I remember his gaze; dark and commanding, his voice firm and demanding telling me not to touch myself in his bed.

But I’m not in his bed anymore, I’m in his bathroom, technically, so it doesn’t count, right?

Right, of course not. There’s no way he’ll know. It’s not like he’s on the other side of the door listening to me pee or something.

It’s just a quick tug to keep things in order. That’s it. It’s not a kink or anything. At least, I don’t think it is…

I carefully spread my legs and settle my feet on the tile as I take my cock in my hand, and the moment I start to slowly stroke, the relief is palpable. My mind wanders to that freshly unearthed moment—my hand wrapped around my dick, his hand wrapped around mine. I let out a strained sigh as my thoughts ignite like fire, blazing a path through a forest of memory and fantasy.

I imagine those sharp, brown eyes, that commanding voice telling me not to touch myself. That growl getting deeper because of my disobedience. In my mind, he begs me to stop, like he did last night, but I don’t listen. Not until he grabs my hand and replaces it with his mouth instead.

I come fast and hard.

So hard, I nearly slip on the damn tile and go down.

“Fuck!” I yelp, as I reach out to brace one hand on the edge of his sink and steady myself, fighting to keep my dick aimed at the toilet so as not to leave any evidence behind.

The door flies open, and all that can be heard is a deep, low growl, and that’s when I fall like an idiot onto the floor, my dick still coming.

Please, God, kill me.

Just kill me. I’ll never recover from this.

I whine in defeat as cum shoots onto my chest, and I close my eyes, not wanting to look at AJ.

I hear his footsteps on the tile, feel the heat from his body emanating like a flame. He lets out a long sigh.

“Nate, look at me.”

I shake my head, keeping my eyes closed.

“I can’t,” I manage to squeak out.

I expect him to yell or get bossy like he did last night, but he doesn’t do that.

Instead, he laughs.

Oh, great. He’s laughing at my stupidity now.