Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 50817 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50817 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
Getting hard at the sight of Owen was nothing new. Jeremy had known ever since they met that being friends with him would mean a lot of cold showers.
He was a damn handsome man, though too much of an Alpha male and too much like Jeremy to be his usual type, even if he had been open to it. Still, he’d always been a temptation. The unattainable usually was.
Owen snapped his fingers in Jeremy’s face. “Earth to Porter. Thinking of ways to get our favorite vigilante demon out of his current dilemma, or were you staring at my ass?”
“Fuck off,” Jeremy blustered, turning toward the living room, pizza box still in hand. “Just for that you’ll have to wait for this edition to hit the stands.”
“Bullshit. You never make me wait for it. It’s one of the things I like best about you.”
Damn, the way he’d said that sounded sexy.
“That, and your big screen.”
And that sounded like Owen.
He had been staring, and Owen knew it. Jeremy had never seen the need to hide his bisexuality from his best friend, though he didn’t throw it in his face either. Finn was a man’s man from a traditional Irish family. He loved sports, worked with his hands and hadn’t lacked for female companionship since he hit puberty. In other words, he was arrow straight.
Maybe straight wasn’t the right word for him, Jeremy thought as he set the box on the coffee table. Owen had more than a few kinks from what he’d been told, and he was a bit of a player with the ladies, but sex with other men had never been on his agenda.
They didn’t talk much about their individual predilections with each other. Owen knew Jeremy liked men as well as women, and Jeremy knew Owen frequented the same BDSM club that their friend Tasha was a member of. It didn’t have anything to do with their friendship.
Or it hadn’t until Tasha’s party.
He walked over to the fifty-inch flat screen framed by shelves of movies and games. “Sports or swords?”
“Swords,” Owen responded as he threw himself onto the wide leather couch and opened his beer. “I had a long day, and I’m in the mood for a bloody birthday massacre.”
“Should I ask?”
“God, no.”
Jeremy slipped the game into the console and tossed the two controllers on the couch beside his friend. “It’s your birthday. And there will be blood.”
“Blood and pizza. It doesn’t get better.”
They spent the next hour swapping smack talk and grabbing bites of pizza between battles. Jeremy leaned back on the couch, his fingers automatically controlling his character’s movements as his mind drifted.
This was it then—business as usual. Fine. It was better this way. Their friendship was intact. He wouldn’t have to think about his own reactions to the incident at Tasha’s party, or how he’d wished it had been Owen he was with that night instead of the man whose name he hadn’t bothered to remember.
Natasha Rivera had introduced him to the stranger. She was the only friend from high school besides Owen that he was still close to. The three of them had been through a lot together, though their individual relationships with Jeremy couldn’t be more different. Both a voyeur and an exhibitionist, Tasha was also Jeremy’s occasional lover, and that evening she’d had her heart set on watching him fuck another man. One of her favorite requests.
Tasha’s choice for their third, a pretty and unabashedly gay coworker, had shown a flattering fascination with the fit of Jeremy’s jeans and Tasha’s hints about what they were hiding. Against his better judgment, Jeremy had let the two of them drag him into the bedroom and strip off his clothes during the party instead of making them wait until it was over. He’d let them caress his body and measure the length of his erection with their hands, though he could hear the beat of the bass and the murmur of the crowd from the other room.
They’d both knelt at his feet and taken turns sucking on his cock, until eventually he’d stopped trying to remember if they’d locked the door and let his desire take over. He’d been so aroused and distracted by their joint effort he ended up bending that hot twenty-something blond over the bed, sliding on a condom and giving him the fucking he’d been vocally begging for.
That was how Owen found them when he walked in. He’d frozen—a tall, still shadow framed in light and loud music.
Jeremy had been startled too, but when he realized who was in the doorway and what Owen was seeing—him with his pants around his ankles and his dick disappearing into another man’s ass, the voluptuous, caramel-skinned Tasha naked and touching herself beside them as she watched—some inner devil loosed by drink and lust had taken over his body.