Page 8

Fuck, why can’t I stop thinking about him?

I give in to the thoughts because I’m already too far gone to stop them.

I imagine Ryder standing there, broad shoulders that draw my eyes to his pink nipples, then lower, to the faint trail of hair leading down his stomach, guiding me exactly where I want to go. His chest rising and falling, lips parted, as he watches me drop to my knees in front of him. God, I want to touch him. Taste him. Hear him. His skin would be warm under my hands, and I bet if I touched him right, he’d let out one of those breathy little moans that would wreck me.

My strokes get faster, and a low moan slips out as my body starts to tense. I’m close, so fucking close?—

“Uh, Logan?” Ryder’s voice hits me like a lightning bolt, and I freeze.

His voice came out so soft, like he wasn’t sure if he should speak or disappear out of the bathroom door without a word. My heart is pounding as I turn toward the glass door of the shower, making eye contact with him. Even though I wasn’t facing him, he knew what I was doing.

“Ryder—” I manage, my voice surprised and my cock still hard in my hand.

“I…um,” he starts, “Logan…”

He doesn’t finish but the way he says my name feels like a zap straight to my dick. It was breathy and so fucking sexy.

He stands there completely unmoving, not looking away. His eyes are locked on mine—or at least, I think they are. It’s hard to tell through the steam. They could be locked on my cock, which seems less likely, but not impossible, I suppose. The glass is just foggy enough to blur the details, but not enough to hide the way his lips part slightly or the flush rising in his cheeks. Heislooking. He must be. And I’ve never wanted to turn the shower to cold faster.

He seems to be stuck in place, waiting for me to do something, and my cock is throbbing from whatever is happening right now. I love the feel of his eyes on me, the blush on his cheeks, the way his lips are parted.Just like I imagined.

His hesitation feels like a dare. So, I take it. I’m way too turned on to be thinking clearly right now.

I start stroking myself again as I keep my gaze focused on him. I want to know what’s going through his head right now.Is he hard? Does he like what he sees? Does he want to take his cock out and stroke himself? Strip naked and get in the shower?

Fuck.The thoughts circle fast, heat winding in my gut quickly, and I’m close again. Just from him standing there, watching me, and I can’t help but let another moan fall from my lips.

That sound must snap Ryder out of his trance because he quickly lets out a nervous little laugh and steps back from the doorway. “Um…sorry,” he gulps. His voice sounds nervous now, like he doesn’t know what the hell to do. “Guess I’ll, uh…wait out there. Try not to take all night,” he says on a breathless laugh.

I open my mouth to say something, anything, but thewords are stuck in my throat as he walks out the door and shuts it behind him without so much as a backward glance in my direction.

Why the hell did I do that? Did I just fuck up our friendship? What is wrong with me?

The silence he left behind is deafening and I let out a shaky breath, unsure what the fuck just happened.

But…he didn’t act like he hated it.

He didn’t storm out. He didn’t cover his eyes or pretend he hadn’t seen anything. If anything, I’m pretty positive his eyesdiddrop to my cock before snapping back up like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to look.

I don’t know what to do with that, but my hand is still stroking my dick, caught between adrenaline and desire.

The way he said my name is still replaying in my head, all breathy and unsure. I’ve spent years stuffing those kinds of thoughts into a box and pretending they didn’t exist. Anytime something slipped through the cracks or Ryder got overly flirty with me, I’d slam the lid shut. But right now, I don’t have that much willpower.

My vision from earlier shifts to him on his knees for me, looking up through his lashes with that same dazed expression on his face, is so vivid. I imagine his lips parting and his face flushed and wanting. Him sticking his tongue out waiting for me to slide my dick between his lips, and before I can stop it, I’m coming hard with a strangled grunt. The water quickly washes my bad decisions down the drain with it.

I stand there a minute, chest heaving, trying to collect myself because Ryder is my best friend.Onlymy best friend—I seem to need to remind myself of that more and more these days—and I have to hope I didn’t just fuck up the best friendship I’ve ever had.

By the time I’m dressed and stepping out of the bathroom, I see Ryder stretched out on the couch, scrolling through his phone. He doesn’t look up right away, so I clear my throat and run a hand through my damp hair.

“Uh, sorry about that,” I say, trying to keep it light. I don’t know what he’s thinking. Hell, I don’t even know whatI’mthinking. This is brand new territory for both of us, and I know I crossed so many lines in there.

Ryder just smirks at me, clearly knowing I’m feeling awkward about this conversation. “Don’t worry, I’m not scarred for life or anything.”

I bark out a laugh, surprised by how relaxed he seems, but then again, itisRyder, and that’s kind of his whole vibe. I take a deep breath, feeling better about this conversation already. “The one time you actually show up on time, huh?”

“I told you I was heading over,” he shoots back, andfair, he did. But usually that means he’ll still be another fifteen minutes, at least. It’s really his fault for being so bad at being on time and giving accurate updates. “Not my fault you were…occupied.”

“Oh, we’re calling it ‘occupied’ now?” I grin in his direction and throw up some air quotes around the word.