Page 43 of Sizzle

So why does my dick look like it’s trying to tear a hole in my gym shorts?

The chill is starting to register, wracking my body with a full-on shiver. I consider staying out here in the cold to give my junk some time to calm the fuck down, but a hot shower sounds better. I put the equipment back as I found it, adjusting my dick so I don’t knock something over on the trip upstairs. I’ll take care of that once I get under the water.

Sounds like I’m not the only one who thought a shower sounded good. Alex’s bedroom door is open and I hear the water running from the bathroom just beyond.

I really should apologize. Just because I’m losing my shit doesn’t give me the right to be a prick. So yeah, my life is falling apart. And yeah, the woman I’m crazy about is going to be dating somebody else. I should just be grateful it’s him, right? Not some piece of shit off the street or wherever. I’ve seen the way those dirtbags in the kitchen look at her. They’d sell body parts for a chance to talk to her alone, never mind to get her into their beds.

The thought makes me furious. It doesn’t matter that I know all of those guys, and they’re all decent human beings. None of them deserve to look at her, let alone speak to her.

No, much better that she chose Alex.

A vision of them in bed together stops me in my tracks. I was sick with jealousy just thinking of her talking to other guys, men who I work with, who work for me, who I like and generally respect. But the thought of Alex kissing her, taking her, pounding the ever-living fuck out of her pussy…

I wrap my fingers around my cock and squeeze hard, needing the pressure. Any apology will have to wait until I take care of this first.

A moan coming from down the hall stops me in my tracks so suddenly I damn near trip on the carpet.

Was that—?

There it is again. It’s Alex. Is he hurt?

There’s a tiny corner of my brain that’s screaming at me to turn around, run, get upstairs now, before it’s too late. But I’m already approaching his door before I notice it and—

Too late.

He’s standing in the bathroom doorway. I can see steam billowing out of the running shower. He’s facing away from me, one arm braced on the door frame, the other—

I can’t see exactly what he’s doing, but I can damn well guess.

He’s pulled his shirt off, so I see the line and curve of every muscle as his left arm goes to work. How the hell he stays that ripped when he works so much is beyond me, but I can’t help admiring it all the same.

His back is broad, tapering to slim hips where his pants hang on a wish and a prayer. I can see the divots on either side of his spine just above the curve of his ass.

My dick is tangled in the fabric of my gym shorts so I shove my hand under my waistband to straighten things out. I’m so hard I’m leaking and I can’t resist running a thumb across the tip, drawing from the moisture there.

I suck in a breath, realizing too late that he’s going to hear me.

Alex spins around, panic all over his face. He looks so damn desperate, sweat beading at his temples, eyes unfocused until he looks at my crotch.

Can’t deny my way out of this one. I’m so fucking hard there’s a wet spot on the front of my shorts so dark that I know the second he sees it. His nostrils flare and his eyes dart back up to my face.

God help me—I can’t stop it. I don’t even want to try. I grasp the base of my dick through my shorts and squeeze.

14

Alex

I manage not to slam the door behind me. Stubborn sonovabitch. Elliot’s obviously freaking out about that damned phone call. I knew it was a mistake. I fucking knew it. I shouldn’t have pushed.

But he was so goddamn ripe for it. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was curious.

But I fucking know better, don’t I? I know better than to fuck around with straight guys. And I damn well ought to know better than to fuck around with my friends, especially since I don’t have all that many anymore. And there’s only one Elliot.

I can’t lose him—I can’t. A stupid crush that won’t go away is not worth throwing away so many years of friendship. He matters too much.

Which means the whole thing with Joelle is a bad idea. It was dumb to think it could go anywhere. Relationships don’t work that way in real life. Hell, I’m walking proof relationships don’t always work the normal way. Trying for more was a bad idea, and now it’s hurting somebody I care about.

I’m a damn fool. I know it, and even as the thought snakes its way through my brain, I can’t stop picturing Elliot just now, steam coiling off that insane brick-shithouse body. I knew he was built—the guy spends too much time working out to be anything else. Knowing that and seeing it up close, though, are two goddamn different things. Not that I’ve never seen him without a shirt before, but this is the first time I’ve been that close to him with all this shit up close to the surface.