Page 19 of Nothing to Fear (Wicked Games #1)

I lightly run my fingers over my length, teasing myself . . . maybe putting on a little show, knowing Asher hasn’t looked away yet, before wrapping my hand around it, slowly stroking my soft skin from root to tip. Pleasure immediately drowns out any lingering fear or hesitation I was feeling.

“Oh, fuck yes,” I groan, precum oozing from my slit. I’m so fucking turned on right now, I know I won’t last long, but I don’t want to look like a fucking idiot in front of Asher and blow too soon.

“That good?”

“Ye-yeah,” I stutter. “Only the real thing could make it better.”

The resulting “mmm” that escapes him, combined with the way his tongue darts out to wet his lips, has my pulse skyrocketing, my cock steadily leaking.

What would it be like if he reached down and licked me instead?

Fuck, just the thought of it has me practically bursting, my balls heavy, my cock throbbing.

Asher doesn’t look away, the heat of his stare scorching my skin, as he starts to stroke himself again. His knee continues to bump mine, sending an electric current through my body that spurs me on. It’s too much but not enough at the same time.

I spread my legs farther, the elastic around my joggers pulling taut, so I shove them down past my knees.

My thigh rests against Asher’s now, and the breath is stolen from my lungs.

The coarse hair of his legs rubs against my own as our bodies gyrate, our hands moving in tandem, fucking our fists.

His skin is so damn warm, the hair of his thighs rough against my own. It feels so damn good.

So.

Damn.

Good.

The porn playing in front of us has nothing on the erotic visual next to me.

Asher’s breathing has picked up, and I can feel the heat of his gaze as he watches me jerk it.

I don’t dare meet his eyes, terrified of what I’ll see reflected in them—what it could mean.

Instead, I keep my eyes focused between his legs, and I swear to Christ, he’s putting on a private show just for me.

“Fuck yeah,” he rasps, his voice thick and laced with lust. “Goddamn.”

Jesus, his voice sounds so damn good. I don’t want him to stop talking, but I don’t dare tell him what I need. His hand. His mouth. His words. Pleasure zings up my spine, spreading like a wildfire as my body drives closer and closer to orgasm.

Asher has to be close, his breathing picking up, his hips bucking erratically, pumping that glorious cock into his fist from below.

His ass clenches, his stomach muscles rippling.

I watch with rapt attention, spreading my thighs as far as they can go, our legs pressed flush against each other now as my free hand dips down, cupping my balls and rubbing my taint with my middle finger.

“Ohhh, fuuuuck.”

“Just like that, don’t stop,” he practically growls, pushing me closer to the edge. Asher’s demands are so unlike the Asher I know, and I wonder if he’s dominant in bed and if he tops.

Fuck.

I do as he says, tightening my grasp around my cock, lifting my hips, and jutting out my length as I fuck my fist harder. I’m immediately rewarded with his praise.

“Shit, yeah. So fucking good, that’s it. Make yourself come.”

A noise I don’t recognize escapes my lips as my balls draw up close to my body, my cock thickening against my palm, and I know I’m right there. Right fucking there.

“So close. Shit. I’m gonna blow. Fuuuuuuck.

” I pop off. My eyes lock onto Asher’s perfect cock as a low, guttural moan leaves his lips.

My body seizes, cum erupting from my slit as my hips stutter, my fist pumping through the pleasure as my orgasm rolls through me, but when Asher goes off, that first spurt of cum shooting from his tip and splashing against his abdomen, I’m taken to the fucking moon.

“Oh, hell yeah,” I breathe as my heart nearly pounds out of my goddamn ribcage. I have the strongest desire to lean forward and lap up his cum, a desperate need to taste him, to clean him up with my tongue and make sure there’s not a drop wasted. What would he do if I did just that?

“Fuck, man,” Asher gasps as he releases his spent cock and relaxes into his chair. “That was . . .”

“Hot,” I finish for him.

His head rolls to the side, looking at me as I struggle to catch my breath.

I’ve never seen someone look as beautiful as Asher does right now.

His post-orgasm flush covers his pale skin, his bottom lip red and puffy from where he bit down on it.

He’s sitting next to me practically naked, and hell if I don’t want to see this look on him again.

“Yeah, so fuckin’ hot. I gotta ask . . . ”

“No one knows,” I say quickly, not wanting him to finish his sentence.

Asher’s eyes widen in surprise, the look quickly replaced by something unfamiliar.

Intrigue? For the first time in over three years, Asher is looking at me like he just got the final piece of the puzzle, as if he’s seeing me wholly for the first time.

I don’t hate the idea of that.

“No one?”

“I mean, people know, just no one at Corvus, except my dad.”

“How is that even possible?”

His question makes me stumble. He’s a gay man, he knows the deal here, and just because his reality is different, doesn’t mean mine doesn’t exist. Irritation rises quickly, and I jerk up my pants, tucking my dick away with my clean hand.

“Not everyone can be out in the open like you, Asher. Are you serious? No one knows because I can’t tell them. Do you know of any other openly gay players on the team? Or hell, any team here? There aren’t.”

Asher has the audacity to look hurt, his eyes softening as he reaches forward and rips out a tissue, quickly cleaning up the mess on his stomach before handing me one.

We sit in silence as I clean the jizz off my hand, unsure what the hell just happened.

It’s not like I don’t want to be out in the open; hell, the biggest part of why I’ve been so mean to Asher over the last few years is because I’m so jealous of the fact that he is.

“I’m sorry,” he says softly. “Looks like we both misjudged each other. Can we start over?”

Start over? Fuck. What would that be like?

I think back at how badly I wanted to start school here and be myself—open and carefree from day one.

The first day at a new place where no one knows you, there are zero expectations, and you can be whoever you want to be without fear of disappointing someone or filling someone’s preconception of who you are.

What I would give to be able to start over.

“It’s not that easy, Ash . . .”

“It can be.”

He’s wrong.

The room is sweltering, the walls closing in on me as my body flushes with heat. I stand, looking down at Asher’s dark onyx eyes. I came here to tell him I was done running, that I was going to chill out. I came here to apologize. But here I am, doing what I always do.

“Maybe for you. But it’s too late for me.”

With that, I walk out of Asher’s room and leave his apartment without looking back.