Page 42 of Left on Read

A low groan escaped my lips. I sped up my hand, sending tendrils of pleasure throughout my entire body.

Holy fuck. I was close already. That was… not normal.

It usually took me a while to get off when I was going solo unless I watched porn. I needed some sort of focal point to keep me grounded so my brain didn’t go rogue and start thinking of random shit that would distract me and make orgasming harder.

Not tonight, apparently.

Blowing out a breath, I sank deeper into my fantasy and imagined what it would have been like to touch him. Maybe stroke him the way I was stroking myself.

Would he like that?

Would he press into my hand and ask for more?

How would he react if I played with his balls?

Would he like it if I jerked us off together?

I groaned, my entire body tightening with desire and need.

Fuck. That would be so hot. Feeling his shaft against mine, using our precum as lube to get us close.

How would he look when he came?

My orgasm tore out of me with the speed and strength of a wrecking ball. I gasped, shooting all over the inside of my sweats as I stroked myself through it, still picturing how Hayden might look when he came.

When I was finally done coming and my brain was back in reality and not still in Hayden’s living room, I blinked up at my ceiling, still illuminated with lights and stars.

“Holy shit,” I muttered into the dark.

I hadn’t come that hard in a long time.

Yup. I was definitely bi.

And I was definitely into Hayden.

Carefully, I pulled my hand out of my pants and sat up. I needed to shower and get new pants.

8

HAYDEN

Ding-dong.

I jumped a mile as my doorbell chimed.

I’d just spent the last half hour running around my house trying to find things to do to keep busy so I didn’t change my outfit for the tenth time or break down and call Ryan again.

I hurried to the door and yanked it open.

“Hi—holy shit!”

River laughed from where he stood on my front porch in a pair of dark wash jeans that fit him like a second skin, showing off his thick thighs and trim waist, and a white button-up that pulled tight around his defined pecs and well-muscled arms.

I wanted to sink into the floor and never resurface. I’d spent hours debating what to wear and had settled on jeans and a blue hoodie that actually fit me but was still hella casual.

“Now that’s the type of greeting that really boosts a guy’s ego,” he said teasingly.

“I’m sorry. I just…I look homeless, and you look like you walked off the set of a modeling shoot.”