Page 20 of Want Me
“Final projects for a class last year.”
I jumped as Eric spoke behind me. I hadn’t even heard the shower turn off or him coming down the hall.
“They’re amazing. You did them on your own?” I glanced over my shoulder, and my gaze got stuck on the trail of dark hair that disappeared behind the white terry cloth towel cinched around his waist. I wanted to drink the water droplets clinging to the hairs just below his navel. Jesus, how was it that even a bath towel could look obscene on him?
“Yeah. Took forever and a day, just about. But I got an A.”
“I’ll bet,” I said, distracted. More water droplets dusted Eric’s shoulders, a few running down over his dark, pinched nipples, the buds so tight I wanted to take them between my teeth. Lick them, nibble them, see what kinds of sounds he’d make. He was always making me moan, but could I make him do the same on my own, without him touching me? Seeing him from a distance like that, when he wasn’t actively engaged in getting me hard or getting me off, his body was…graceful. Lean. On a Savannah, my bulk would make me the lion, but he’d be the cheetah that outran me.
I straightened, angling toward him but turning my attention back to the bridges. Still, in the corner of my eye, I detected movement, the squeak of the door as he pushed it gently—not fully closed, but cracked. Eric tugged the towel free, so fucking casually, caught it in his hand, then lifted it to rub briskly at his hair.
My breath hitched as he took two steps closer, heavy dick swinging. The balls below looked swollen and juicy, ripe to be sucked. Fucking hell, I needed to get a grip. Yeah, I’d been turned on by guys before as had already been established, but I didn’t recall ever wanting to suck on a guy’s sac. Now I was all but salivating at the prospect. Eric’s brows rose in a silent question.
“Ansel asked me to bring up the cufflinks you wanted to borrow.” I pointed them out on the desk.
“Right. Thanks.”
Man, did I want to see him in a suit, all cleaned up and sleek. He’d shaved, his jawline smooth and pronounced now, the sexy bow of his mouth all the more seductive. Or maybe that was just my libido talking. No doubt he could see the damn Rock of Gibraltar trying to bust out of my jeans.
Eric touched the tip of his tongue to the corner of his mouth contemplatively, then let the towel sag and drape over one shoulder, releasing it to close a fist around the base of his cock. His abs contracted as he squeezed, his gaze rolling over me like a heat wave. Fuck, he knew how to use his eyes. They might as well have been arrows pinning me in place.
One stroke. Two. Three. Slow, sleepy caresses like it was all an afterthought. But I knew better. His dick filled and darkened. My tongue felt swollen in my mouth.
“Hmm.” The sound was a gravelly purr. “I like your eyes on me. I’ll keep that in mind.”
My mouth dropped open and I scrambled for some cool retort, but he’d caught me off guard, as usual.
“So, ummm, what made you want to get into structural engineering?” Total non sequitur. I grasped at straws, trying to keep myself from begging him to get me off. Instead, inexplicably, my question had the effect of a cold shower on him. The heat in Eric’s eyes dimmed abruptly, and he tossed the towel onto his bed before bending to sweep up a pair of boxers lying there and tug them on.
“My father,” he said, snapping his waistband and running a hand through his hair quickly.
“He’s one, too?”
Eric’s chuckle was short and bitter. “No. He’s dead. The guy you met when I moved in is my stepdad. Weren’t paying much attention, were you?”
I cringed. I hadn’t been, nope, but I was now. “What happened to him or is it too—”
He shook his head. “It was ten years ago. He traveled a lot for work. He was on a bridge that collapsed in Japan.”
“I remember reading about that. Man, I’m sorry.” It was sincere, and if he’d been a girl, I’d have offered him a hug or pulled him into my arms, but I didn’t know what to do with him, and his posture seemed stiff, like if I were to touch him quills would pop out and he’d prick me.
“Yeah. Sucked,” he said succinctly, and crossed to his closet, yanking the bifold doors and flipping through the hangers, then pulling out a suit while I kept leaning against his dresser like an oaf.
“So I decided I wanted to build shit that was solid. That wouldn’t collapse from beneath an entire fucking family on vacation, or a pregnant woman trying to get home, or a dad with a son halfway across the world just because some jackoff hadn’t given proper consideration to tectonic pressure on the substructure.”
I thought I must have paled or made a weird expression because when Eric looked over at me, some of the tension carved in his features faded and he bit his lip. “Sorry. I’m still a little bitter. Clearly.”
“No. Fuck, don’t apologize. I’d be pissed as hell. That’s fucking awful.”
“Yeah.” He ticked a look in the direction of his nightstand where a digital clock glowed. “Anyway, aren’t you supposed to be there early or something?”
I glanced at the time and winced. “Ah shit. Yeah.” I was going to be late again.
There was a light rap on the door and Jesse pushed it open, double taking at finding me inside, too. “Oh hey. I think Mark’s looking for you,” he said to me, then turned his attention to Eric. “You still want a ride, man? We were thinking of going to Easy’s first and grabbing dinner.”
That was my cue. I headed out, Jesse skirting out of my way as I passed.
“Sure, I’m in,” I heard Eric say as I headed toward the bathroom.