Page 29 of Fixate
I’d never said anyone else had a gorgeous cock. I didn’t even look at other men’s bodies like that. Sure, I’d seen other dudes naked. Porn existed, and I was a frequent watcher.
That was very different from what I was experiencing watching Pharrell strut to the bed.
“I hope it’s ok for me to take this side,” he said all casually, like his giant anaconda of a cock wasn’t swinging between his legs.
My mouth watered. What would he taste like?
And why did I have the urge to bury my face in the dark curls sitting at the base? I’d never thought about another person’s pubes before. Not even in a joking manner or anything.
This was definitely not a joke.
I was aroused. Achingly so.
“It’s fine,” I eventually rasped before moving to what had become my side of the bed.
Unlike the man across from me, I made quick work of removing my clothes. I kept my boxers on since both of us naked in bed didn’t seem like the brightest idea. Even this small bit of fabric did little to hide the obvious erection I had.
Keeping my back to him, I eased into the bed and laid down. I didn’t turn to see how he positioned himself. To look at him more than necessary would be a mistake.
The bed sunk behind me when he climbed in. I froze, unsure of what would happen next.
“If you’re not facing me, how will you notice if I leave,” he taunted.
“Maybe you could just do what you said you would instead of trying to manipulate me into whatever game this is.”
“Game?”
I scoffed. “Yes, game. I’m not in the mood to play.”
“Can you explain this game to me? I think I missed the rules. Am I winning?” His voice was all calm and thoughtful. I fucking hated how relaxed he was.
I also hated that we were supposed to be sleeping, yet he was riling me up with this crap.
Without thinking, I flipped over to face him. “Yes, you’re winning. You got naked and forced my hand to make us get into bed together. If you’d have just agreed to sleep — ”
“There was no forcing your hand. Your memory must be going.”
“My memory is fine.”
He continued on like I hadn’t spoken. “As for my nudity, I didn’t think it would be an issue. Surely, you’ve seen other men naked before. You’ve seen yourself naked. We all have the same basic anatomy.”
“Not all of us are built like that,” I muttered.
While anyone else might have ignored the comment, Pharrell latched onto it instead. “Built like what? Does my appearance bother you this much?”
Our gazes were locked together, which meant I had a front row seat to the gleam in his eyes. He was getting a kick out of my discomfort. He wanted to see how much I’d admit before pulling back.
Though we’d known each other casually for years, he didn’t know who I was to my core: A competitive asshole with no filter.
“Your cock. Not all of us are built with third legs. That’s why I figured this was a game. You strip down, showing off that beast, and decide you have to sleep naked when I’m here. How is that even fair?”
Pharrell had gone still at my rant. It was like the bravado he’d had disappeared with the confessed words. I shook my head and went to roll back over. At least he was quiet again. Maybe we’d actually get to rest.
Before I could turn all the way over, his hand shot out to grab my arm. I froze at the touch. He was so warm. So fucking tempting.
“You were staring at my cock, mon chou?”
I rolled my eyes. “Is that all you heard?”
