Page 19 of Wild Obsession

No. No, this must be part of his game somehow. I don’t know how, especially when he’s definitely stroking himself and he’s definitely hard and he’s definitely looking me right in the eyes as he does it, but this must be some cruel extension of his teasing.

Unfortunately, my body doesn’t care.

When Keannen’s dark, piercing eyes meet mine, I’mcaught like a fish on a hook. My eyes trail downward, to where elegant fingers wrap around his cock.

Holy shit. His cock.

I’ve never seen anyone’s but my own. Not unless it was in a porn or something. But a video on the internet is very different from a real person who’s only a few feet away, and Keannen clearly knows what he’s doing. His fingers run up and down his shaft in a way I can only call graceful, like Cameron when his hands are flying down the neck of his guitar. Like Keannen when he’s twirling his drumsticks between his long fingers. The way he strokes himself has a beat to it, a rhythm I can’t help but fall into. I find myself stroking along with him, shame be damned as I match myself to the flow of his movements.

A smile spreads over Keannen’s mouth. It should send a bolt of dread straight down to my gut, but that toothy grin only lures me in deeper. It should look predatory, like spots on a poisonous insect, but I go willingly all the same.

“You like that, huh?” Keannen says, his voice as silky sharp as his smile. “You like watching me touch myself? Have you ever seen a man in person?”

“No,” I confess before I can stop myself.

“No, of course you haven’t, but you like seeing my dick. You like when I touch myself. You’d like it even more if I touched you.”

The suggestion zaps through me, hot as a bolt of lightning singing me from the inside out. My dick twitchesin my hand, my rhythm stuttering as I contend with a whole new flood of fantasies.

Keannen’s smile widens. He stops touching himself, which nearly makes me groan in protest. I barely manage to bite back the sound. Then he hops off the counter, pulling his pants up. They ride low enough on his hips that his tip pokes out of his briefs, and somehow that’s even more enticing than seeing the whole thing. Maybe it’s because I know what the rest looks like. Maybe it’s because I’ve seen the long shaft and cut head, seen his fingers wrapping around it.

Keannen slinks toward the shower. Every step makes my heart thud against my chest. He comes up to the glass, only that thin, fogged up pane standing between us. I’m stripped bare before him, literally and figuratively, holding my hard cock while he sizes me up. He must find me wanting. I’m not as tall as him. I’m broader, but I’m not some super cut gym guy. I’m just … average. Regular. Keannen must have slept with dozens of guys more interesting and hot and perfect than me, yet his eyes rake up and down me all the same.

“Freckles,” he says. I’m confused, but then he continues: “You have freckles on your chest. Of course you do.”

I have no idea what to say to that. I don’t care about my damn freckles, not when I feel like I might break if he doesn’t keep touching himself.

He drags his eyes back up, looking directly into mine. “Tell me what you want.”

“What?” Confusion cuts through the pulse of my arousal.

“I’m not your fucking toy, Tim, and we’re not kids. You want something. Ask me like a big boy. You can do it.”

I don’t know if this is cruelty or sincerity, teasing or desire. Maybe it’s just another way of messing with me. Maybe he’s going to bring me all the way up to the edge only to leave me there in agony. It’s no better than I deserve, but the thought clenches my guts like a fist.

The words burst out of me.

“You,” I say. “I want you.”

He snorts. “Be specific. I’m not your fleshlight.”

“I want…” I fumble, struggling to drag a coherent thought out of my head.

I’ve never done this. I’ve never even had the chance to do this. At first, I was merely trying to survive as a scared kid in a completely new place. Then the band happened, and I never got an opportunity to…

“Touch yourself,” I gasp. “Please, touch yourself. Let me watch. Let me see you.”

“Is that really what you want?” Keannen asks. He runs a hand down his body as he speaks, and even though he has all his clothes on, I can’t look away.

I fall to my knees in the shower, watching him from the other side of the glass, holding myself pathetically, peeringup at him like he’s an angel come down from Heaven to judge me for my sins.

“Yes,” I say. “Please.”

He smiles.

Chapter Ten

Keannen

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