Page 46 of Dean

To my cock.

It’s hard. All the time now.

“You okay?” I ask softly, and he grunts. Avery has spent the last twenty minutes wiggling around, trying to get comfortable. And I’m worried he’s not feeling well. With how drunk he was, he can’t be feeling good.

“I’m just so hot. Damn clothes,” he murmurs and sits up with awhine, pulling his shirt over his head and shucking his pants onto the floor as he flops onto his stomach. It leaves him only in his underwear, a small little slip of fabric that barely covers his ass cheeks.

Shit.

My eyes land on his butt and I take it in. It’s cute and round, just like I knew it would be. My dick perks up even more and shame washes through me. He’s drunk and here I am…having a small crisis.

I should leave and go sleep in his bed, give him some privacy, but when I try to leave, he whimpers.

“Don’t go.”

Those two words keep me rooted to the spot. Well, guess I’m stuck here forever. Avery must sense that I’m not going anywhere because he wiggles closer andcloser, the scent of him, something sweet and sugary, invading my nostrils. Probably the drinks he consumed, but I don’t know. It could just be him. He is always so sweet.

I turn on my side to face him, his slumbering form, his pouty lips, that hair. I will never admit this to anyone, but I had a dream about that hair the other night, my fist wrapped around it…

I reach out and brush it away from his face, and he sighs, almost like he enjoys me touching him.

I should not be touching him. Not like this. Not when I’m confused. And yet, I do it anyway. Like a moth to a flame.

My hand falls between us and his fingers slide to mine as if he’s drawn to me. His soft skin brushes against mine and his lips part.

My eyes can’t move away from him, from where we’re touching. When was the last time I just held someone’s hand?

My mind flashes to him walking up to the house, that guy’s arm around his waist.

Something ugly churned inside of me when I thought he’d be bringing the guy inside to fuck him.

I didn’t want to hear it. I didn’t want to even think about someone else touching him like that.

Swallowing, I let my thumb slide across the back of his hand. I need to reflect on what that means, why I feel this way.

You just care. You don’t want him hurt.

Maybe, I think.Maybe.

Or maybe it’s something else.

Avery pulls my hand up to his neck and he tucks it under his chin, leaving me to scoot even closer to him so my arm doesn’t fall asleep. Our legs brush and a tingle slips up my spine. My cock is hard and pressed out from the confines of my pajama pants.

I will it to go down, but it won’t.

I fucking can’t control this. Any of this.

I’m losing a piece of me to him.

I did it with Elaine and look what happened, the pain I went through. What the fuck am I even doing with a man half my age when I’m not even gay?

And yet, still I stay, just watching him. I should close my eyes and sleep. I should rest. I have an entire day of work ahead of me tomorrow. I have to be on it, to be able to function.

I say this and yet my eyes don’t leave him. I just memorize his face, the way he breathes, the way his leg drapes over mine. My eyes only start to droop as the sun starts piercing through the blinds. And by the time I finally give in, Avery is pressed against me fully, his face tucked into my arm, his lips against my skin.

It’s a mistake, I tell myself. I shouldn’t do this.

And yet, I don’t move.

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