Page 4 of Light Me Up

Ian removes the towel from around his waist and saunters down the hallway, butt naked, casually rubbing the towel over his hair. I'm frozen to the spot, my eyes glued to the long, corded muscles of his thighs and his round, muscular ass. There isn't an inch of him that isn't sheer physical perfection.

He stops just before he reaches his door and turns to face me. Blinking rapidly, I pull my eyes away from his long cock, jutting proudly from between his legs. He's almost hairless, and for some reason that short circuits my brain. I barely process the cocky grin on his face, or the way he bites his lip and runs his eyes up and down my body before walking into his bedroom and closing the door behind him.

I stand in the dark hallway, breathing in the sweet coconut scent of his body wash, for far too long before I realize what I'm doing and rush into my own room.

My back hits the door, and I let out a heavy breath. Pressure on my crotch has me looking down, and I realize that I’m cupping myself through my jeans, trying to ease the ache of the unwanted erection that is tormenting me. I push against it, hard, punishing it for daring to have a mind of its own.

Why him? Of all people?

I’m less upset about my newfound attraction to a man than I am the object of that attraction. That’s something I can unpack later, maybe chalk it up to the fact that it’s been a very, very long time since I so much as went on a date. And I have to admit that Ian is… well, he’spretty. He’s got all that smooth skin and almost feminine features, high cheekbones, skin that looks airbrushed, and full, pouty lips. Something about that softness, combined with all those hard planes of lean muscle…

I let out a quiet groan as my cock throbs in my jeans. I shouldn’t give it any attention, shouldn’t encourage this unwanted reaction, but it hurts.

I force myself not to enjoy the stroke of my hand as I reposition my cock in the waistband of my jeans, just readjusting, so I’m not so uncomfortable. I’m still standing there with my hand in my pants when there’s a soft knock at the door.

Swallowing down my fear and mortification, I crack open the door just enough to see who it is. It could be Michael, needing something or wanting to talk.

But of course it isn’t Michael.

I instinctively take a step back before realizing my mistake and stiffening my posture. Ian’s body leans into the doorway, one arm braced against the top of the doorframe, the other resting against the door as if to prevent me from slamming it in his face.

At least he’s put on a pair of pajama pants.

He pushes the door open wide enough to rake his hooded eyes over me, smirking knowingly at the prominent bulge in my jeans.

Without a word, Ian steps into my room and closes the door behind him.

CHAPTER 4

IAN

“Wh—What are you doing?” Henry asks, trying and failing to keep the tremor out of his voice.

He swallows, and I watch the movement of his Adam’s apple. I wonder how much teasing it would take for him to let me suck on it.

“I think you have something for me,” I tell him, keeping my voice low and serious.

“You’re mistaken,” he says, moving to reach for the door behind me.

I use the movement to my advantage, stepping into him as he attempts to step around me. My hand comes out to rest on the very obvious erection that he’s been sporting since I walked past him in the hallway.

It took about three minutes of gloating to myself, becauseI fucking knew it, before I couldn't stand myself and had to come confront him.

I've had a big, pathetic crush on my best friend's dad since the first time I saw him, freshman year. He was helping moveMike into the dorm across the hall from mine. It was actually the reason why I first introduced myself to Mike, although I'm seriously glad I did, because he's the best guy I've ever met and I can't imagine life without him. He's my first real best friend. I feel a little guilty about lusting over his dad, laughing and making jokes to cover the very real hard on I have for this man. He's just so…manly. Everything about him screamsBig Dick Energy, hidden under a facade of dad jokes and responsibility. And wouldn't you know it—I was right.

Even just the hard ridge of him beneath a layer of jeans and the t-shirt he's untucked to cover himself with is impressive. I've seen a faint outline of it through his workout clothes, and here or there the suggestion of a hardened reaction to some of my antics. But this is the first time I've gotten true confirmation that he's into men at all.

I've noticed him watching me since we arrived, the way he stares too long at my body or watches me swim. He acts irritated by my presence, but I think he secretly likes me. At the very least, he likes my ass. And the proof is in the way he froze, eyes locked on my naked body as I sauntered past him, feigning more nonchalance than I really felt.

My heart was beating out of my chest when I made it into my room. That was ballsy, even for me.

Ballsier still was knocking on his door and pushing my way into his room. But my reward twitches in my hand, making all the nerves of the last few minutes worth it.

"Ian—"

"Did you like what you saw, Daddy?" I say in a husky, teasing voice.

That gets his jaw ticking. His face flushes with anger, and he steps in to crowd me back against the door. "Listen, kid. I don't know who you think you are, bu?—"

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