Page 36 of Phantom Faceoff
No matter how much I want to take myself in hand and get off to the image of his orgasm rocking through him, I finally gain control of my limbs—just as Jules pops off and I risk being noticed—and back as quietly out of the room as I can.
I don’t know where the hell I’m going to go, but for once in all of my time living with my best friend, home isn’t an option.
Not unless I want to blow that up like all the others.
Chapter Eleven
Zander
I’m an asshole.
Here I am, in the bed of a man who gives incredible blowjobs, and mid said incredible blowjob, my mind wanders straight to the one place it shouldn’t.
Thinking about Malachi scolding me is one hell of an odd orgasm chaser, but what’s even worse?
Nearly choking out his name and looking up to find the object of my twisted affections iswatching me get blown.
To make matters ten times worse, I come with those wide eyes on me, watching the uncomfortable way he shifts as if there’s any hiding the hard on in his pants.
But the douchiest thing of all is that when Julian smiles up at me with cum dribbling down his chin, he has no idea that he was the farthest thing from my mind.
When he sits up, I can see his hand cupping his own softening erection—and the puddle of cum in his palm.
Yup. I’m an asshole.
Malachi is gone. Quietly escaped just as stealthily as he’d arrived. Even as Julian leans forward to smack a wet kiss on mymouth, I can’t keep my eyes from wandering to the doorway, almost willing him to reappear.
We make out until Julian pulls away with a yawn. “Mal isn’t back yet,” he says with a frown.
I rub a hand down the length of his spine. “He probably doesn’t want to walk in on us naked.” I throw on a charming smile, and Julian giggles.
“Respecting my privacy like a gentleman. You on the other hand …”
“What about me?”
“Mal doesn’t see me in any type of sexual way. But you? You might tempt him to break his bout of celibacy.”
“Right. Because a few months without some action would make your friend desperate enough to want to bone me of all people?”
Julian rolls his eyes. “Try a fewyears, smartass.”
Well, that does it. My brain is officially broken. Stuck in a loop of: Malachi Blanchard hasn’t gotten laid in years, and we practically just eye-fucked each other to mutual orgasms.
Except I’m the only one who came, and suddenly I feel a burst of responsibility to make sure Blanchard does the same.
“Maybe I should give him the all clear.”
“Maybe you should.” Julian sits up and tugs the blanket around himself. “I’m tired.”
The yawn is overstated this time.
“Is that your unsubtle way of kicking me out?”
“It’s my unsubtle way of saying fuck off and let me sleep.”
It hardly takes me a minute to get dressed, and I already have my phone in hand before I make it to the door.
Me
