Page 33 of A Little More Hope

“I’m sorry,” I managed to get out.

“No,” Ash snapped, and his vehemence surprised me. “Don’t you dare apologize. You did nothing wrong. We did nothing wrong.”

“I shouldn’t have taken—”

“No,” he repeated, moving closer to me. Taking my wrist he placed my hand over the front of his shorts, where my fingers instinctively curled around his erection as he held me in place. “I want this as much as you.” He applied more pressure, moving my hand up and down his length, his eyelids fluttering shut, his head dropping back. “I want this,” he repeated. He let my hand go, but I didn’t take it away. My fingers remained curled around him, holding him in my grasp, squeezing tentatively, testing.

He was so fucking hard.

“What do you want, Ash?” I ground out. He released a deep and guttural moan. My gaze flicked to his face to see his eyes still closed, his head still back. I flexed my fingers, shifting them slightly, getting a firmer grip. The keening noise he made caused me to stop all movement, unsure if was hurting him or making him feel good.

His head snapped forward, eyelids opening, pupils wide, his deep moss-green eyes as dark and stormy as a turbulent sea. Lips, red and swollen from the ferocity of our kisses, cheeks flushed pink, he looked utterly debauched, and I’d barely gotten started.

“Everything,” he whispered. “Kissing, sucking—” He shuddered. “—fucking.” His voice gave out on the last word, his body trembling, his heavy-lidded eyes intensely focused on my face. “Everything.”

Jesus. If my touching him through his shorts caused this strong a reaction, what would he look like when I had him naked and under me as I powered into him?

The vision I conjured made me shiver with pleasure I wanted it so bad.

But I shouldn’t want it. I couldn’t want it.

Could I?

Would I be willing to go that far?

Fuck another man?

Another wanton shiver ripped into me, more powerful, more violent, providing me with the answer to my own question.

The loud knock on the open front door threw me for a second, my mind fuzzy, my body heavy with lust, until a person yelled, “Hellooo, Ash? You in here?”

We rapidly sprang apart, putting space between us, the air rushing in to fill the gap. The initial shock on Ash’s face was rapidly replaced by annoyance at the interruption, giving a huge boost to m y ego he felt as frustrated as I did at being forced to stop.

He moved jerkily to the bathroom doorway. “In here,” he responded loudly. Not concentrating on what Ash’s words meant, my mind continued to race like crazy, replaying what we would have done if we’d not been interrupted. So I didn’t have time to freak out about the stranger—correction, strangers—as they walked into the empty bedroom.

Ash immediately stepped in front of me, barring their entry to the bathroom, keeping me out of view. His hand going discretely behind him to take hold of my wrist, his thumb rubbing over my frantic pulse.

I took a few long, deep lungfuls of air but found I didn’t need them, as there wasn’t any impending sense of panic, nor did I feel any need to relax and calm down. I merely needed his gentle touch, and his thumb to continue making lazy circles over my pulse point, each brush across my skin soothing me, easing my nerves.

“Whoa,” one of the men exclaimed. “You have been a busy boy.” For a brief second, I speculated the guy referred to Ash and me, but then he added, “You do all this yourself?” Okay, so not about us.

Ash’s grip on my wrist tightened, silently asking me for permission. I ran my hand gently down his spine and received a small shiver as my reward.

“I’ve had some help,” he replied, his voice uneven.

“Oh yeah? Who?”

Steeling myself, I moved to the other side of Ash, so they’d see me. “Me.”

The priceless look on the smaller guy’s face made me smile, as his mouth formed a wide O, while giving me a slow and thorough perusal at the same time.

“You never told us you hired a contractor,” he returned.

“I haven’t,” Ash stated. “Guys, this is Mason, my neighbor.” He introduced me as if they already knew who I was, which surprised me. Had he talked to them about me? If so, what had they discussed? We’d not known each other long enough for there to be a lot to say, had we?

Unless they’d been talking about us…

“Mason, this is Flynn—” He first pointed at the shorter, slimmer guy with the dark auburn hair and then to the bigger guy, built like a huge slab of beef. “—and Cam.”

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