21. Jamie
Chapter 21
Jamie
I stared at the ceiling into the early morning hours.
Being stone-cold sober and lying in bed beside my best friend who seemed incapable of returning my love anytime in the near future was absolute torture. Somehow, I’d managed a few moments of rest but woke before dawn, restless, grumpy, and horny as fuck.
The pillow I clutched to my face smelled like Chaz. Heat from his body mere inches away radiated like the sun’s rays attempting to singe my skin. Taking off my shirt had probably been a mistake, but I was burning the fuck up from the inside out, the heat centered in my groin.
I could be a total perv and jerk off while lying beside his passed-out ass, goddamn luscious thing that it was.
I’d left the bathroom light on in case he needed to hug the toilet again during the night, so lifting a single eyelid allowed me to check out his peach-like globes. He’d inadvertently gifted me the view when kicking at the blankets and shifting onto his stomach a few minutes earlier.
Black cotton hugged the swells perfectly, tempting as fuck. I could imagine what it would feel like sliding my lubed dick up through his crack, rubbing over his virgin hole. Teasing him. Poking and prodding but denying us both penetration. While I would love to fill up his ass with cum, the thought of seeing my spunk shot over his ass cheeks and back hit me harder for some reason. Marking him as mine would be more satisfying than unloading inside his body where it couldn’t be seen.
Jesus.
I swallowed hard and rolled, staring at the ceiling again, determined to keep my hands to myself because it was what he’d asked for, and there wasn’t anything I wasn’t willing to do for Chaz.
Drape a cold wet towel over his neck while he puked his guts up. Wipe his face off once he finished. Clean the splatters of vomit off his toilet and floor. Hold his dick while he emptied his bladder. Wear fucking jeans to bed because I always went commando and couldn’t very well sleep on his and Shelly’s bed naked .
I’d finally gotten my hands on Chaz’s cock, and he’d been too goddamned drunk to realize it. At least I hadn’t been turned on by the experience, which I’d kept as clinical as possible. Didn’t mean I wouldn’t mind helping him out again like that in the future. A lot. Every fucking day if he would allow me to. While I wasn’t into water sports, if I was ever lucky enough to shower with him, I wouldn’t care if he took a leak over my feet. Wouldn’t be any different than smearing my cum over his skin like I’d been focused on a second earlier, right?
That thought of my spunk on his back shot lust through my dick again, and I groaned, moving onto my stomach for needed pressure since I wasn’t about to put my hand on my throbbing length while less than a foot from my best friend.
I shoved my arms beneath the pillow and filled my lungs with his scent.
My entire groin ached, balls tight, stuffed into uncomfortable-as-fuck denim.
Chaz grumbled nonsense as though I’d disturbed his sleep, and he rolled into me, arm flopping over my back, leg slotting between mine. Even through my jeans, I could feel the heat of him and the full length of his morning wood pressed against my thigh.
Eyes clenching shut, I swallowed a moan as he snuggled in closer, bare chest against my side, face in my armpit.
Jesus fucking Christ, this man would be the death of me.
Did I do the right thing and slip from beneath him, escape to the bathroom, and jerk off without him knowing?
Hell no.
Same as when we’d gone camping, I stayed put and gladly allowed Chaz to use me like a body pillow while he slept.
This ought to be us every morning , I mused, daydreams flooding my mind, making me even needier for the man. Warmth radiated between us, and I couldn’t help but soak in his nearness, how he clung to me as though desperate for comfort?—
Fuck .
His unconscious move to snuggle had nothing to do with me.
He thought I was Shelly.
Pain spread through my chest, settling in the back of my throat, and I did what I should have the second Chaz had reached for me.
I slid from his grasp, and my feet hit the cold floor as I sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on knees, head in my hands. My dick throbbed, angry and insistent. Might as well take care of that shit before Chaz woke up. Coffee and breakfast would be a good idea too since he probably had a full day’s worth of work waiting for him at the shop.
My release into my hand turned out disappointing and unsatisfying. There was no marking of skin other than my own, and I washed the spunk from my fingers and palm, watching it disappear down the bathroom sink. It would have looked better all over Chaz’s fine ass.
Still restless as hell inside and sporting a chub that refused to relent, I made my way into the kitchen and set to doing what little I could for Chaz.
Coffee being the first task.
The scent of fresh brew flooded the room as I next searched through the sparsely filled fridge for breakfast stuff. He had a couple of eggs but not enough for scrambled—and no cheese. A box of half-full pancake mix sat in the tiny pantry, so I set about mixing enough batter so we both could have a decent-sized stack. A partial box of frozen sausages allowed for two a piece, and they sizzled in a small pan on the stove. Real maple syrup and OJ would have to suffice as the rest of our meal.
I heard Chaz long before he made an appearance, and he must have left the bathroom door open because his morning routine sounded throughout the house as though he couldn’t give two fucks he had company. The scent of sausage and coffee had to have traveled back the hallway, letting him know I hadn’t yet left.
The toilet flushed after his long-as-fuck piss, then the sink ran as he washed up and brushed his teeth while I dished up our food and set the plates on the table.
I heard him head my way and filled a coffee mug, thrilled that I could finally help him out. Even with something as little as this.
He stumbled into view a second later, obviously hungover, eyes bloodshot and scratching his junk through his boxer briefs. Fucker hadn’t put on another stitch of clothing. He seriously tried to off my ass.
“Thanks for sticking around,” he said without meeting my eyes, accepting the cup of coffee I held out to him.
“Thanks for letting me be here for you.”
“Sorry if I said or did anything weird last night.” He sipped, a low hum of approval rumbling his chest and causing my dick to twitch.
“There’s nothing you could say that would ever make me think you’re anything less than perfect,” I assured him or hoped to at least.
He made a disbelieving noise and sipped again, and I wondered if he realized he’d been plastered to my side like the morning we’d gone camping.
“Sit,” I ordered, needing to move the fuck on from memories that would give me another boner.
Chaz collapsed into the chair I pulled out for him, and he eyed breakfast. “Looks good.”
“Eat. You’ll feel better.”
We chowed down until the plates were scraped clean, and I got up to refill our coffee, my dick finally deflated.
“Got a full schedule at the shop today?” I asked while sitting across from him again, planning on light and comfortable conversation.
“Yeah.”
“Plans tonight?”
A grimace thinned his lips. “I agreed to dinner with my parents. Put my mom off long enough.”
“Want some company so the bullshit remains at a minimum? You know I don’t mind running interference.”
“Thanks for the offer, but I’ve owed them this visit for a while now. Especially since Dad took care of all the wake and funeral details. It was partially fear over having to be with him that had led to me wanting to get smashed last night.” A hint of humiliation coated Chaz’s admission.
“You’ve got this.”
Chaz snorted. “I’m a stubborn bastard, but I’m not a fighter like you, Jamie.”
I wanted to argue but didn’t.
He glanced up at me long enough I caught the wariness in his hazel eyes, but he quickly looked back down at the scarred wooden table, retreating into himself again.
“How are you feeling?” I asked, my tone careful. I had no wish to pry, but I was here and had the opportunity to check in without him being able to ignore me.
“Fine.”
I curled my fist to keep from reaching for his hand because that single-worded answer was a lie if ever I’d heard one. “Call me after the visit with your parents if you need to. Anytime, day or night.”
“Will do.”
Taking the hint he wasn’t in the mood to talk, I got up to clear the table. “Why don’t you go shower for work,” I suggested. “I’ll clean up our breakfast stuff and get out of your hair.”
Chaz opened his mouth but closed it again before nodding. I guessed that meant he didn’t want me to stay.
Regardless of the sting of rejection, I watched that ripe peach encased in black cotton flex with every footstep he took away from me.
Eyes lifting to the ceiling, I begged whatever god might be listening for the patience and understanding I’d been lacking lately. Babs had lasted forty-some years without losing her shit. I would find a way to do the same even if it meant carpal tunnel and a raw dick.
Lube—I needed to refill my jerk-off stash at home so that last possibility didn’t happen.
I added a stop by The Market to my small mental list for the day that included only one other thing. Worrying over Chaz’s visit to his childhood home and hoping it didn’t intensify his feelings of wishing to be gone from existence.
That loss would wreck me more than a torn ACL ever could.