Page 173 of Worthy

“Just didn’t expect you to be so loud.”

“I’m a screamer,” I say with a long groan, and Dean chuckles, his hands working their way up to my hips, kneading the muscles close to my ass, and I. Nearly. Combust.

Oh my god. Oh my fucking god, he’s touching my ass. Like, no big deal, Avery. Let me massage your glutes.

“Dean,” I groan and his movements falter for a moment. I probably made it awkward by moaning his name like that, but honestly, what did he expect?

His hands move back to my thighs, his knuckles brushing against my straining dick—by accident, I’m sure—until I’m a writhing boneless mess. When he’s done with me, I’m limp everywhere except for my dick. No, my dick is a rock-hard, weeping mess.

It’s embarrassing, but I’m too turned on to care.

“You need to carry me to bed,” I say, trying to ignore the throbbing between my legs. It aches. I need to rut against something for a second to just come.

Dean lets out a small chuckle and then he shifts me up on his lap, pulling my legs on either side of his. And for a moment, just a moment, I can envision myself naked, straddling his thighs, his cock stretching me open.

But as soon as it appears, it dissipates until all I’m left with is the feel of him against me.

“Up we go,” he says and then stands.

My legs move around his back, my face buried in his neck. And my dick, of course, is pressed against his lower stomach.

“I didn’t think you’d actually do it,” I say as he walks me to my room.

“Didn’t think I was strong enough?”

“Oh, you fishing for compliments?” I ask, my lips brushing against the skin of his neck.

He sets me down on the bed, my legs and arms unraveling from him.

“Seems I might be,” he replies, and I just blink up at him. I don’t even know what to say. I’d compliment him all damn day if he’d let me. But I have to remember he’s straight and he’s my boss.

There are some lines you just shouldn’t cross.

“Night, Avery,” he says softly, and then before I can even squeak out a response, the door shuts, and I’m left alone.

I stare at the door and then the closet. Inside are a few of his clothes. I saw them earlier when I was putting my stuff away.

I stand up and move toward it, pulling out a jersey. I peek at the back and see his last name across the shoulders. Hayes.

I sure as fuck know this isn’t Ben’s jersey. Hell no. That guy doesn’t have an athletic bone in his body.

No, this is Dean’s. Fuck yes.

I strip down, press the shirt against my face, and jerk off, coming almost immediately.

After cleaning myself up, I pull the jersey on and crawl into bed, loving how the fabric of it rubs against my naked skin.

I fall asleep horny as ever and praying that in my dreams, Dean makes an appearance.

Chapter three

Avery

I wake up in a sweat, a terrible dream plaguing my mind. God, I hate nightmares. I don’t have them often, but I had one just now.

Dean most definitely did not make an appearance in this one.

I drag myself out of bed to grab a glass of water when I see Dean standing in the kitchen, clad in only his boxers, his phone in his hand.

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