Page 46 of Turn Me On
“So, Zane. What did you want to talk about?” he asks so damn innocently as he stretches his long limbs, looking like sex on a raft.
No idea. My head is a haze. “Anything. We can talk about anything. Just don’t get out of the pool,” I say.
He drags his fingertips against the placid surface of the dark water, ripples forming in his seductive wake. “If you were here, you could join me…”
I like this game. “Mmm. And swim up to you on that raft. I’d park my arms there on the end.”
“Your hair would be all wet,” he muses. “Your chest, your abs.”
I groan. “You like that? A hard, wet man?”
He shudders out a breath. “When I’m in the shower, I picture you joining me, water sliding down your body,” he says, voice low and smoky as he drags a finger down his chest…between his pecs…along the grooves of his abs.
Holy fuck. Are we going to get it on via FaceTime? I’m not sure I could stop tonight if we started a little video sex. Especially since that bulge in his swim trunks is mouth-watering.
“Down my abs and straight to my cock,” I say, going for it.
Maddox swallows roughly. “Your hand on your dick. You staring at me,” he says as he follows me across the line into the danger zone.
Heat swarms my chest. “I wouldn’t stop looking at you. Ican’tstop looking at you,” I say, then rub my palm against my aching erection.
“Good. Don’t stop,” he says, and his voice trembles with need. “I like when you look at me.”
“You’re so fucking sexy,” I say as lust consumes me. Screw caution. “Put your hand in your shorts.”
Maddox’s hand slides to his waistband, then he hesitates, closing his eyes. He’s at war with himself. Shit. I can’t push him.
“You don’t have—” The rest of the sentencedies on my tongue when his hand disappears inside his trunks.
He opens his eyes, locking those whiskey-colored irises with mine. “You like?”
I fucking love it, and I’m about to tell him so when there’s a loud knock on my door.
11
MY FAVORITE HABIT
Zane
Are you kidding me?
“Fuck me,” I mutter, dropping my head into my hand.
“Dude! The pool party is epic,” Gunnar calls from the hallway. “C’mon, Archer. Get your ass out here.”
I groan in misery, lifting my face to whisper, “It’s Gunnar.”
Face tinged with red, Maddox has already yanked his hand out of his trunks.
“Don’t go anywhere,” I whisper. “I will call you right back.”
He nods, and I hang up, then pull off my shirt, drag a hand through my hair, and make sure my dick is deflated.
Well, deflated enough.
I head to the door, opening it a few inches, affecting a bleary-eyed stare and a deep yawn. “Dude, phones. Have you ever heard of them?”
“C’mon. The guys in the pool are hot as fuck. You can rally.”