Page 15 of Straight to You

I swallow hard, hoping my face isn’t giving away everything I’m feeling.

“You win,” I say quietly, my voice low. He doesn’t respond at first, doesn’t move, just holds my gaze as my cock presses into him.

Once again, I feel like I have no idea how to act around my best friend, but then he rolls off of me.

“Damn right, I do,” he says, shifting onto his back beside me with his grin back in place.

We’re both silent for a moment, apart from the sound of our breathing, and my mind won’t shut up. My dick is definitely hard now just from him straddling me so I think I can rule ‘questioning’ off my list, as I suspected.

I try to count backwards from one hundred, but that’s a pointless tactic because I can still feel the heat of Logan’s body next to mine, feel the phantom weight of him straddling me, the look on his face when he was braced over me like he wanted to?—

Nope. Don’t go there.

My thoughts are doing nothing to calm down my rock hard dick that’s straining against my waistband. I’m almost positive Logan knows too, there’s no way he didn’t feel how hard I was while he was on top of me. The blanket’s not that thick.

Calm the fuck down, body.

I realize there’s no use in trying to will my erection to go down on its own. It’s not happening because my thoughts won’t stop running wild with images of Logan pinning me down. I literally can’t think of anything other than him, and I let out a frustrated blow.

“Logan,” I say, turning my head toward him .

He glances over immediately. “Yeah?”

I hesitate because, what the fuck do I say? I need to come? Can you leave the room for five minutes? Can you stay? Do you want to watch me touch myself this time? I’m horny, will you help?

It sounds ridiculous even in my head. I can’t possibly say these things out loud.

But the pressure is unbearable, and I need to touch myself.

I should lock myself in the bathroom, but if his hearing me record earlier proves anything, it’s that the walls are thin, so I wouldn’t be hiding anything from him, anyway.

I lick my lips and try to find the words. “I’m…” I trail off, clearing my throat before trying again . “I’m still, uh, kinda worked up.”

His brow furrows slightly. “From the scene?”

“From…everything.”

His face breaks into a smirk, gaze dropping pointedly to my staining cock that I knew I wasn’t hiding well before coming back up to meet my eyes. “You mean you’re hard because of that hot-as-hell flip fucking scene you recorded?”

He’s avoiding the real question—the one we’re both pretending not to ask. Am I hard because he straddled my hips?

So I stick with safer territory, too.

“Something like that.” I turn my face away, rubbing a hand over my jaw. “Look, I’ll just…go to the bathroom or something. I figured you might hear me, so I didn’t want to make it weird by not saying anything.” I start to shift, but Logan grabs my wrist, stopping me.

“Wait,” he rasps. His voice is less teasing now, more...something else. “You don’t have to.”

I freeze, my thoughts stuttering to a halt. “What? ”

His grip on me isn’t tight, but it’s enough to keep me stuck in place. Well, that and what he just said. I look at him and realize he’s shifted closer to me.

“It’s not like we haven’t jerked off in the same room before.”

“You’re serious?” I ask, half-expecting him to make a joke and roll away from me, which wouldn’t be like him at all, but it would help me process what’s going on.

I mean, sure, we’ve jacked off in the same room before, but that was sophomore year of college when we didn’t have the privacy of our own space in our dorm.

But this is different. We’re in bed together.

Touching. Horny. Probably from each other.

This feels immensely different from anything we’ve done in the past, and just the thought of it is building anticipation in me.

“Yeah, sure. It’s just jerking off, Ry. Besides, you got to watch me last time in the shower, it’s only fair.”

I know he’s teasing me now, the wink at the end proves it, which only makes it harder to tell if he’s serious about letting me stroke myself while he’s lying next to me…in the bed we’re sharing indefinitely.

It shouldn’t be a big deal, though, right? We’ve both jerked off countless times, and we’re best friends. And I did watch him the other day. Guess I wasn’t as sneaky as I thought.

The casual way he’s saying this makes me feel like maybe this whole thing isn’t such a big deal after all. But with how much I’ve been dissecting our friendship and my feelings for him lately, it feels like it is, at least to me.

Now that he’s planted the seed, though, I can’t stop thinking about jerking off next to him.

Stroking my dick in front of him, knowing that he’ll be watching and hearing every moan I make for real, not just for the mic.

I want to see what happens when I touch myself in front of him.

I want to know how he’ll react, if the sound of me falling apart does anything to him, and if watching me come turns him on.

The thought makes my stomach tighten and my cock twitches, begging for freedom because I do want this.

I swallow hard and force my gaze to meet his, offering a small nod in return.

My body needs release, and even if I haven’t admitted it out loud yet, I do want him.

This feels like the best way to know if I’m alone in this…

or if there’s actually the potential for something more between us, and maybe it’s worth bringing up.

Slowly, I slide my hand beneath the covers and into my boxer briefs. My fingers wrap around my erection, and I exhale sharply at how good it feels already.

“Not wasting any time, huh?” he teases in a lower-than-usual tone.

“Shut up,” I groan, but there’s no bite to it. My hand moves more confidently now, stroking myself under the fabric, the pressure making my hips twitch. A low moan slips out before I can stop it, and Logan shifts beside me.

“I can’t let you have all the fun tonight,” he says.

I glance over as he opens his bedside table and pulls out a small bottle of lube. He squeezes some into his palm and it sounds like the bottle’s damn near empty, then he slips his hand down into his waistband and starts stroking himself.

I can’t help but turn my head from the pillow to watch, and while I can’t see him because he’s still covered, his breath hitches just slightly when our eyes connect, and fuck does that turn me on.

“Can I have some?” I ask, the sound of the wet glide of him touching himself making my cock ache.

“Fuck, Ryder,” he groans, and I know it’s because I waited until after he got started to ask him to pass the bottle over, but the way my name falls from his lips still makes my balls tighten.

He reaches for the bottle, and like I suspected, it’s empty. I barely get anything on my hand, and he turns to see.

“Shit, I don’t have any more. I’ll have to order another bottle tomorrow.”

“Fuck,” I groan, already dreading having to keep going without it. I bring my hand up to my mouth to spit, but he stops me with a quiet, breathy voice.

“You know, you could just steal some of mine.”

I arch my eyebrow, glancing down toward his erection that’s still hidden from my sight. Does he want to, like, high-five me or something? What is he suggesting?

“It doesn’t have to be weird,” he continues, eyes locked on mine. “Just stroke me a few times, get your hand slick. Or…” He swallows, his voice dropping even lower, breathier. “I can stroke you. With my lubed hand.”

A groan slips out before I can stop it, heat rushing to my face. Why the fuck does that sound like the best idea I’ve ever heard?

Goddamn, this is a different side of Logan I’ve never seen before—and I can’t even pretend I’m not into it.

He stops moving his hand now, eyes locked on mine like he’s willing me to say yes, and a big part of me wants to.

This new part of me that’s been stealing glances at my best friend and wondering about more for the first time in my life desperately wants me to lean over and wrap my hand around his dick.

And I want him to do the same to me. I want to be the reason he’s moaning.

I want him to look at me the way he did in the shower .

But what if this moment of desire changes everything between us? What if I touch him and realize once will never be enough? What if it’s just a one-time thing for him, and it makes me want him even more?

Fuck, what if he doesn’t want me the way I want him?

In this moment, though, desire is winning over fear, and my fingers twitch, hesitant to reach out and feel him.

His lips part slightly, and—for the first time in my life—I wonder what it would feel like to press my mouth to his.

That’s when I realize nothing is going to stop me from taking him up on his offer.

Whatever’s been simmering between us is about to boil over.

I need to do this. I need to find out what this is between us.

Before I can second-guess myself, I move.

My hand finds its way into his boxer briefs, and my fingers wrap around his erection hesitantly at first, testing it out.

But when I glide my hand toward his tip, his hips jerk into my grasp like he can’t help it, a quiet moan slips from his lips—and fuck, that sound goes straight to my dick.

I stroke him again, more confidently now, watching the way his mouth parts and his eyes stay locked on me, like I’m doing something holy.

He pushes his underwear down along with the blanket, freeing himself completely, and my eyes lock onto his cock that I’m stroking.

He’s thick, flushed, and leaking precum—and I want him.

I want to see what else he’ll do when I touch him like this.

Then he reaches for me. His hand tugs at my waistband, and I lift my hips without a word, letting him pull my boxer briefs down. Cool air grazes my skin, but then his warm, lubed-up hand wraps around me, and I forget how to breathe.