Page 165 of Unspoken Rules

I lie in bed and find a movie to watch. It’s quiet, the movie is somewhat entertaining, and I find myself relaxing. Until out of nowhere, my dick gets hard. I stare down at it, offensively.

What the fuck is going on here? This never happens to me. I know that’s strange, but it’s true. I don’t deal with random boners, not since I was fucking Cole all the time. I ignore it and keep watching the movie.

But it doesn’t go away.

I glance at the clock. It’s a little before 6:30. Okay, I have plenty of time to handle this before Cole gets home. Besides, maybe it’s the little extra I need to relax more. I open the drawer in the nightstand and dig around. I know there was lube in here, and I’m grateful when I find it. Leaning up against the headboard, I shove my sweats down below my balls, lube up, and go at it. The relief is instant.

Every time I do this, which isn’t often, I tell myself I need to do it more. It’ll help with stress. It feels good, and feeling good is fucking amazing. But my dick hardly distracts me enough to worry about it.

I can already tell it’ll be quick. It’s a plus of not jerking off often. When I want to, I’m not doing it for long. I’m not into edging—at least not alone—or prolonging anything. I want to come, get rid of my hard dick, and be done with it.

Pleasure rolls through my body. My eyes fall shut, and my free hand grips the blankets. I’m so close, so I jerk myself faster. I tug my shirt up so I hopefully don’t make a mess, and when I come, it’s with a low moan. Cum paints my stomach, a fucking lot of it. It’s been so damn long since I’ve done that. I lie there for a minute, my heart pounding and trying to catch my breath.

A sound from the hallway has me jerking my eyes open, and when I look, there he is.

Cole.

Standing. Staring. Gawking.

Eyes full of heat.

Thick outline in his pants.

His hands balled into fists.

We hold each other’s gaze for a long time. I don’t know what to do. I want to put my dick away but seeing him has me getting hard again. And though that isn’t a reason to not put it away, holding onto it just feels good. Like I could go again.

How does he always do this to me?

He isn’t even the one touching me this time.

I swallow hard, hoping he’s just going to walk away.

Thankfully he does.

He storms to his room, slamming the door shut. And because I’m me, I feel I need to apologize. I should have closed the door. Shouldn’t have done this at all. But he said he would be home around seven. I thought I had time.

I tear my shirt off and clean myself up before going to his room and knocking on the door. He pulls it open a second later, still looking the same way. Heated. Lustful. Like he wants to ravage me. Like he’s about to lose his handle on his control any second. It’s tempting. He is so tempting.

Nervously, I run a hand through my hair. I thought I knew exactly what I wanted to say to him, and now? I’m not so sure. So I just start speaking. “That wasn’t—I didn’t… Uh, I wasn’t trying to—”

“I know,” he grits out.

“I just…” I look to my room, then back to Cole.

“Its fine, Bryson. Not like I haven’t caught Chris a thousand times.”

Yeah, but this is different.

I want to say that. Of course I don’t.

I nod. “I’ll close the door next time.”

“Good idea.”

My gaze flicks past him to his bed. I miss sleeping in there with him. Now that I’m just standing here, I realize how overwhelming his scent is. I crave the comfort he gives me. But I can’t take it.

I should have left his room a mess, so I wasn’t tempted by his smell.

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