Page 13 of Phantom Faceoff
Shit.I forgot to turn my fan on. I never lay down without it.
Just have to hope Julian is too lost in the pleasure to notice or care. To realize I’m listening.
To my best friend and his fuck-buddy have sex.
Christ, I’m pathetic.
I’m hard and wet and fucking throbbing with each garbled moan that comes from Hale’s throat.
They could be doing any number of things beneath the sheets. An endless sea of possibilities as vast as my imagination.
“Gonna come.” Hale’s voice is crystal clear. Spoken just above a whisper. Deliberate.
Or maybe that’s just what I tell myself as my own orgasm washes over me. As it crests so hard and fast that I bite down on my lip to draw blood. That I tense every muscle in my body so the tremble that rocks me isn’t as apparent.
Not that anyone is paying attention to me.
I don’t let myself bask in their afterglow. In the buzz of my own sweet release.
I switch on my playlist, some hard rock song bySkyDxddy.God of War.
It drowns out whatever is happening behind me. In a bed I had no business eavesdropping on.
Guilt gnaws at the edge of my consciousness.
Sleep has never claimed me easier, and that only makes it worse.
Chapter Five
Zander
Holdingtwo cock’s in my hand, I couldn’t help but feel like I was being watched. And not by the bright eyed, handsome man lying beneath me.
A quick glance to the side just shows a lump beneath Blanchard’s covers. Still.
I’m imagining things.
The thrill that shoots up my spine as the feeling returns—as there’s a moan too deep to come from the man I’m frotting against—is all too real.
It hits me at an incredible rate—the orgasm that is—and I end up using my own cum as lube to finish Julian off.
I should be more focused, but something about this entire night has me jumbled. There’s something in the air, some unspoken energy charged between Julian and Malachi that piques my curiosity.
There’s a challenge in the mystery.
And I’m a sucker for a challenge.
“Babe,” Julian whines as my fingers brush his inner thigh. He wiggles in my hold, pressing closer.
I flex my hand across the outline at the seem of his jeans, heat blooming across his sweet, pale cheeks.
“Hey now. Let’s keep it PG in the quad.” Micky whacks my ankle with the back of his hand, eyes firmly focused on the notebook in front of him.
He’s got these thick, plastic frames sitting on his nose that keep sliding down and reminding me of one of those grumpy librarians from high school.
“And I assume what you’re writing on that paper is PG, hmm, Donovan?”
His ears turn pink, and this time he punches me in the chest. Micky could lay me out if he wanted to, but instead he just knocks a bit of the wind out of me.
