Page 51 of Beautifully Devoted

I latch onto his comment like a lifeline. “Sorry, Anna. There’s cleaning duty at stake, and I don’t intend to touch a dishrag any more than I have to.”

That earns me a pout that I’m sure is supposed to be sexy, but the full puckered lips do not make me wish they’d be wrapped around my dick later the way they probably did the first time I saw them. They’re almost too full, unlike Cam’s, which are just the right amount of plump without being overly puffy.

Great, now I’m thinking about Cam’s lips on me. How that fucker kept his bisexuality a secret for so long I’ll never know. I feel like dicks are the only thing I think about anymore.

Bennet shoots us a disgusted look as the girls drift away. “Housemate bet? Do you plan to inform the class why I’m not stuck playing pool with you assholes instead of having the chance to hook up tonight? They were clearly interested, and excuse me if my math is wrong but there were three of them and three of us available, so... What am I missing?”

“Go get her if you want her blowing up your phone all the time,” I tell him.

That’s a totally unfair thing to say, and I feel like an ass as soon as the words are out of my mouth, even if they are true. I don’t want to be the kind of guy that uses others to get laid, and I did sort of give her the impression of being interested in round two. It’s not her fault I accidentally led her on.

“I’ll see how I feel after a few beers,” Bennet grumbles, which means if he’s horny enough he’ll risk a clinger. It makes me grateful I don’t have to worry about that with Cam. We can fuck around without turning it into anything but the epic sex it is.

Aaand now I’m thinking about his dick again. How I owe him a return blowie… How I’m pretty excited about it since he made giving head look amazing... If I’m half as good at sucking cock as he is, I’ll blow his mind. I just know it.

Liam whoops in triumph, snapping me out of my fantasy. Cam nudges me to get up since it’s our turn on the table, but seeing as my thoughts have taken on a salacious nature, I’m in no condition to play right now. Still, I get up and grab the stick anyway, figuring if I lose fast enough, maybe we’ll get home sooner rather than later. Then I can play with the balls I actually want to play with.

Cameron

It’s been nearly an hour since my head hit the pillow, but sleep still eludes me.

This has become a frustrating pattern. Ever since Jagger and I started doing—whatever it is we’re doing—our encounters run through my mind on repeat when I’m alone in my room.

Ironically, my thoughts don’t veer toward the catastrophic what ifs that probably should be plaguing me. Nor do they skew to the happily ever after fantasy I know we’ll never have. They exist solely in the niche I’ve carved out for them—the one where the things we do have a competitive undertone—so they aren’t part of some bigger evolution. They’re simply a way to feel good with someone I trust.

On the one hand, I’m proud of myself for not inventing something between us that isn’t there. On the other, I’m so fucking horny… It’s a wonder I get any sleep at all.

That’s especially true tonight.

Jagger spent so much time propped on my leg at the bar, I swear I can still feel his weight. His ass was this close to my dick, and based on the prostate curiosity he’s had recently, my dick is convinced it needs to introduce him to that part of his anatomy. So much so, it went and got all territorial when Anna tried to flirt her way into his pants, and I had to hold him to me to hide the evidence of my arousal.

Fortunately, Jagger’s already moved on from her, so he didn’t think I was cockblocking him. And based on the way his body relaxed after I sent her away, he was grateful I did. But I still can’t shake the memory of having him pressed so close to me for most of the evening, and since I don’t want to resort to picturing my best friend while I jerk off, it’s shaping up to be a long, sleepless night.

Thank God we have a day off practice tomorrow, otherwise I’d be hurting on the field.

I flop onto my back, wincing when that slight shift pulls my boxers taut around my overly sensitive cock. Maybe just one little squeeze will take the edge off?

My hand is halfway to my junk when the bedroom door creaks open. There’s just enough light sneaking past the crack in the blinds to make out Jagger’s shirtless, sculpted profile as he steps inside and shuts the door.

“Everything okay, Kitcat?” My voice is way too raspy to pretend I don’t have sex on my mind. I can only hope he confuses it with sleepiness.

“Can’t sleep.” He turns the lock on the door, which sets my body on alert.

“Why not?” It’s hard to say for sure given the darkness, but I’m pretty certain his dick is just as awake as mine is, and without a conscious effort to do so, I realize my tongue is wetting my lips.

“Got a lot on my mind.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“No.” He pads to the bed and lifts the sheet so he can climb in next to me, but instead of snuggling into my chest like he usually does, he props his head on one hand and trails his fingers down my abs with the other.

My half-hard cock responds almost instantly, filling at a record pace as he draws a path from my stomach to my groin.

“I was actually hoping you’d be asleep.” His fingertip brushes over the tip of my cock, which jolts in response.

“Why’s that?” I’m surprised I can form words with my shaft twitching so hard.

“So your dick would be in my mouth when you woke up.” He palms me in his grip and gives me a good squeeze, and my hips thrust up, begging for more.

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