Page 19 of Filthy Sweet

My eyes dart around the half-assembled apartment. I see his crowded bookshelves, some big glass orbs with plants growing inside of them, and a decent electronic keyboard, positioned by a wide window.

Reggie heaves the couch in, and I walk backward until my butt hits a door. We’re kind of caught sideways, and when I take another step back to maneuver, the door swings open behind me, and I hear a yelp.

I drop the couch and spin. Owen stands in the middle of his bedroom, earbuds in his ears, but otherwise totally naked except for a pair of lacey blue panties.

Oh shit.

He looks fucking amazing. He has one foot extended, toes pointed, like he’s showing me the lean muscles that ride up his elegant leg, growing thicker and fuller at his thighs. The fabric of the panties is almost sheer, cupping his ass perfectly. He’s twisted at the waist, and I see the sparse blonde hairs across the top of his chest and the pink nubs of his nipples.

The urge to jump on him fills me, like a tidal wave. I want to fuck those panties off of him, listen to him moan. Then Owen’s mouth falls open, and I snap out of it and tear my eyes away.

“Backward,” I grunt, pushing the couch at Reggie. “Go!”

“What’s up?” he asks, cornered between the kitchen and the front door and totally not moving. “No room?”

“Oh god, oh fuck, oh god,” Owen babbles behind me, and I hear him dive for the bed.

“Is that Owen?” Reggie calls out, friendly. “Is Owen here?”

“Move the fucking couch,” I yell, trying to get the doorway clear, and when the couch doesn’t budge, I just jump over it instead. “Sorry, Owen,” I call out, my eyes still fixed in the opposite direction to give him privacy.

Guess he is into panties after all.

Fuck, it’s hot that he has secrets.

“Owen, something wrong?” Reggie calls out. “Why aren’t you at work?”

I hear Owen scrambling in the room. “Our team is working from home this afternoon.”

“He was just changing the sheets,” I say loudly, offering him an excuse.

“Oh.” Reggie gives me a big grin. “Well, we got you a couch!” he calls out happily.

Owen appears, scrambling over the couch in a pair of basketball shorts and a T-shirt. He avoids my eyes, but I see that his cheeks are pink. “Wow, thank you,” he mumbles.

Something throbs deep inside of me, beating like a heart. There are a million things I suddenly want to say to Owen, to tell him he’s sexy and good and perfect just the way he is. He looked fucking hot in those panties, but he’s just as hot now in his rumpled clothes, shy again.

Oh shit.

I’m into Reggie’s little brother.

* * *

OWEN

Reggie and Fox leave, and I collapse onto my new leather couch.

Right when I start to believe Fox and I have a real connection, I go and find a way to humiliate myself again. Now he’s going to think I was lying about the panties and dildos and everything else, which means Fox will have this idea of me as a totally different person than who I actually am.

It sucks. I was starting to feel like I could talk to him.

I blink and remember that I still have the panties on beneath my basketball shorts. My pulse quickens, and warmth floods my cock.

I’m not exactly into them, at least I don’t think. The soft, lacy fabric feels nice, and I like the way the panties hug my butt. Standing there earlier, with my eyes closed and dreamy electronic music in my earbuds, I tried to lose myself in the experience, but I wasn’t particularly turned on.

My cock thickens, stretching the lace. I tremble with pleasure, my nerve all raw, and think about the way Fox had dragged his gaze over my bare skin.

It felt good to have him look at me like that. For just a split second, before reality crashed down, the thrill of posing for Fox filled me.

---