Chapter 12
Ihate blind dates.
They’re awkward and awful, and there’s so much pressure, even if you try to make it low key. I never want to go on one again.
The only reason I agreed to let Benji set me up tonight was because I need to get my mind off Boone. I’ve always found him attractive, and it’s never been an issue. Hell, he’s the guy when I was younger who made me realize I even liked men. Apparently, until now. I’m attracted to plenty of people, but that doesn’t mean I actively want to hook up with them or that I have actual feelings for them.
I don’t know if it’s just all this time I’m spending with him now that I’m staying at his house and Jade is gone, or the fact that I know they’re getting a divorce, so my mind is like “Ha! He’s up for the taking now!” even though that couldn’t be further from the damn truth. But it’s like feelings I’ve never had toward him before are popping up, and I don’t know how to make them stop.
In hindsight, the evening wasn’t terrible, overall. The movie was good, the food was delicious, and getting to hang out with Benji was fun. Even the guy—Jacob is his name—was nice enough. But it was just uncomfortable. I felt like I needed to entertain this stranger, which I guess on a date, you kind of do. That’s the thing, though…I didn’t want to. I wanted to hang out with my friend, and that’s it.
Now I’m stuck driving this guy home because Benji thought it would be a “fun idea.” Benji means well, but he’s about one more fun idea away from getting bitch slapped. All I want is to get home already, change into some pajamas, and go the fuck to bed. This Jacob fucker lives clear on the other side of town. And he’s chatty.
“I can’t believe we’ve never met before now, living in the same town,” he mutters.
Gripping the steering wheel so tight my knuckles blanch, I blow out a breath through my nose. I am peopled out. “Well, I’ve spent the last three years away at college for nine months out of the year,” I reply with a smile, hoping it hides how I’m feeling. I don’t want to be rude. It’s not his fault that I have absolutely zero interest in small talk right now.
“I had fun tonight.”
I throw him a quick glance. Of course, he’s already looking at me. “Yeah, me too.”
It’s a white lie. It’s okay.
“Take a left right there,” he instructs. “My place is the second one on the right.”
Coming to a stop against the curb in front of his house, I don’t bother putting it in park. “Well, it was nice to meet you, Jacob,” I say politely.
“You too, Grady.” He unbuckles his seat belt, but makes no attempt at reaching for the door. Instead, he turns his body toward me and slides his hand over, resting it on my thigh. I look down at the appendage in my lap, then over to him, confused. Jacob inches closer. Oh, no. Please don’t tell me he’s going to try to kiss me. “Hopefully, we can do it again.”
And then he moves even closer. I panic. Kissing is the very last thing I want to do right now, but I don’t want to hurt his feelings either. Right before his lips meet mine, I jerk back as far as I can and blurt out, “Cold sore!”
Jacob sits back, a puzzled look on his face. “What?”
Fuck, why would I say that? “I, uh…” Breathing out a laugh, I say, “I’ve got a cold sore on the inside of my lip.” I shrug my shoulders. “You know, they say you’re not supposed to kiss someone when you have one of those because they’re contagious.”
“Oh.” Jacob’s eyebrows dip and slash together as he nods. “Right, yeah. I have heard that. Well, damn. Maybe next time.”
There will be no “next time,” Jacob.
“Yeah, maybe.” I offer him a smile that I’m sure looks forced. “Well, better get home.”
“Can I get your number?” he asks, his hand on the door handle.
Fuck. “You know, I recently just got a new phone and I’m not sure of the number, but I can find it and give it to Benji to give to you later.”
“Or you could text me and then I’d have it?”
Jesus Christ, he’s a persistent little fucker.
“It’s dead,” I lie, offering another smile.
“Dang, alright. Well, yeah, give it to Benji, and I’ll hit you up sometime.”
“Sounds good!” I say, way too eager to get him the fuck out of my car.
As soon as the door closes, I let out a breath. Thank fuck that’s over. Turning the music up, I make the drive home, thrilled when I finally put the car in park in front of the garage. The house is quiet as I enter, which makes sense since it’s almost eleven o’clock. I drop all my shit off in my room, wanting to take a shower. Kicking off my shoes and letting my pants fall to my ankles, I step out of them before reaching behind my head and pulling my shirt off. In only a pair of briefs, I grab my phone and head to the bathroom, which conveniently is right beside the bedroom I occupy here on the main level.
I turn on the light and check under the sink for a towel.
No towel.
Dammit.
The laundry room is upstairs, and with Jade being gone, it’s become abundantly clear how much both Boone and I suck at laundry. Neither of us have any problem washing or drying, but the folding and putting it away aspect seems to be a bit much for either of us. I hate to go up there when I know Suzy is sleeping, especially since Mabel sleeps with her most nights, and if the dog hears me, she’ll most likely wake Suzy up, but the laundry room is clear on the other side of the upstairs and I’m barefoot, so surely, I can be quiet and quick enough that I don’t wake her up.
“Fuck it,” I mutter, leaving the bathroom and making my way toward the staircase. It’ll take me two seconds, and I’d really love a hot shower before I crash for the night. There’s just something about getting into bed at night, all squeaky clean after a hot shower that does it for me. I also have noticed those are the nights I don’t have as much trouble falling asleep.
Thankfully, none of the stairs creak as I ascend, and I’m able to make my way to the laundry room without any issue. There’s a nightlight on in there, so I don’t have to turn on the overhead light, and just as I figured…there’s a pile of clean towels on top of the dryer. Grabbing a few—so I don’t have to come back up here again the next time I shower—I leave, fully planning to head back downstairs.
That is until…
What is that noise?
It’s faint, barely noticeable, but because it’s so quiet up here, I can hear it. It sounds like it’s coming from the master bedroom.
No. My heart thumps in my chest, pulse kicking up a notch. Don’t you fucking do it, Grady. Do. Not.
My feet move of their own accord, carrying me across the floor until they come to a stop in front of the door that’s opened a little bit more than halfway. If I move even an inch to the left, I’ll be able to see into the room.
I shouldn’t.
I really, really shouldn’t.
It’s an invasion of privacy.
But…one little peek won’t hurt…right?
Grady! Do not!
Another sound reaches my ears, a little louder this time since I’m closer. It’s throaty. A layer of goosebumps bloom over my flesh, and I become painfully aware of my current state of undress. As if my feet have a mind of their own tonight, I shimmy over about two inches to the left, and fuck me, I’m going to hell. I’m going to be burned at the stake for being the world’s largest pervert for what I’m witnessing.
The light is on in the ensuite, blanketing the room in a warm glow. Boone clearly had the same late-night shower idea because there’s a towel lain haphazardly on the bed beside him. Where he’s sitting…completely fucking naked. Even from all the way over here, I can see his hair is still wet, meaning he probably just got out, hence the bathroom light still being on.
I don’t know when he moved back into this room from the one he was staying in down the hall. Probably when Jade left. That’s not fucking important, though. What is important is Boone’s tall, muscular, and very naked body on display for my greedy eyes. Back leaning against the headboard, he’s lounging with one leg planted on the ground—I can’t see it from this angle—and the other is spread across the bed, giving me an almost unobstructed view of everything. Dick, balls, taint, hole…everything.
Swallowing hard, I stand stock-still, careful not to breathe too harshly or move even a centimeter, or he may notice me. It’s dark out here, so he’d have to really focus, but I don’t want to take the risk. My mind is screaming at me to turn around and go back downstairs. I’m well aware what I’m doing is wrong. But I can’t. I’m frozen in place.
Frozen in place and drenched in arousal as I watch Boone’s large hand glide up and down his equally large length. My sister’s husband is jacking off…and I’m watching. My mouth waters, taking in the sight. His dick is nice. Really fucking nice. It’s not too long, but it’s thick. And his nuts…the way they bounce with each stroke, a heavy, rhythmic slap against his body that’s downright hypnotizing. The way the light from the bathroom spills into the room, covering him in a soft, golden glow. His ab muscles bunch, his corded arm flexing as he fucks his fist in a slow, methodical fashion.
His cock is fisted in his left hand, which strikes me as interesting. Boone’s ambidextrous, and I know he primarily holds his bull rope with his left, but he writes with his right. I’d never given much thought to which hand he jerks off with…obviously. Who would think of something like that? His right hand is across his chest, fingers tweaking his nipple as his left hand works his shaft. A bolt of fiery lust shoots down my spine, burying itself in my balls.
I watch the erotic flick, twist, and pull on his nipple, and it’s like I can feel the sensation in my own newly hardened bud. His grunts reach my ears every once in a while, his lips are parted just so, and I can see his chest rise and fall with shallow breaths. Eyes drawn closed, his head rests against the headboard as he clearly loses himself to pleasure.
What I would give to be the one giving it to him right now. To replace his hand with my own. Replace his fingers on his nipple with my mouth. My tongue. My teeth.
Fuck, this is so hot and so wrong at the same time.
Boone’s wrist twists every time he strokes upward, and a groan gets caught in my throat at the sight. My dick is so painfully hard behind the briefs I’m wearing. I want to reach down and cup myself, but I won’t. That’s the line I’m not willing to cross, I guess. I should back away now and go to my room before he catches me. But I can’t. I’m trapped in this spell. Can’t look away. Can’t move. Hell, I can barely even blink.
The sight before me is sexy and forbidden and so fucking seductive. The way Boone’s giving in to his carnal urges. He’s taking what he wants from himself. He looks so powerful and strong. Every bit the badass bull rider he is. Boone Stanton is a sexy man fully dressed, but he’s a fucking god lying there in all his naked glory. Every dip and groove on his body is sharply carved as if he was made from stone. His body is a work of art.
Soft moans fall off his lips, his breathing quickening. He’s getting close, I think. Fuck, I need to leave. This is already so fucked up. I can’t watch him come too. That’s crossing a line…right? But again, my feet are rooted in place, and it’s like my brain cannot kickstart my body. I know what I need to do, but I can’t make it happen.
As if Boone can sense I’m standing here, his eyes flutter open just as he bites down on his lip. I swear, my heart stops beating for a moment as his gaze seems to land right on me. But it’s dark out here. He can’t see me… There’s no way.
But he’s looking directly at me, and instead of stopping, instead of coming over here and kicking my ass for being a creepy Peeping Tom, he… He keeps going. The only indication that he may have actually spotted me is the way his hand faltered on his cock for a millisecond before he got back to it. If anything, he’s stroking himself faster, harder now. His eyes, hooded and dark, stay locked in my direction, and I swear I can feel his attention all over my body.
Boone’s jaw goes slack, and the sexiest groan rips from his throat as I watch in part horror, part amazement as his cock erupts. Holy fuck… Boone is coming, and I really fucking think he’s watching me watch him. Thick ropes spurt out, covering his hand and spilling onto his stomach. His legs and ab muscles twitch as he makes a mess all over himself.
Fuck, this is the hottest thing I’ve ever fucking seen.
He strokes himself through every last drop, letting his eyes close once he’s done. And suddenly, it’s like the spell has broken and my conscience comes back, slapping me in the face over what I’ve just done. Before Boone has a chance to open his eyes again and find me still standing here, I back up as quietly as possible before spinning and heading down the stairs as fast as I can without tripping and falling. I don’t let myself breathe until I’m safely inside my room with my back against the closed door.
Holy fuck.
Holy. Fuck.
I cannot believe I just saw that. Can’t believe I watched Boone Stanton—my fucking brother-in-law—jack off in his room. I’m going to hell. I’m going to burn in hell for enjoying that as much as I did.
Without even thinking, I shove my hand into my briefs, fisting my steel-hard length. I squeeze.
This is bad.
This is really fucking bad.
Using my free hand, I shove the material down my legs until it pools around my ankles. My fist moves feverishly as pleasure soars through my body and a slideshow of what I just witnessed replays in my mind. His naked body. His thick, hard cock trapped in his fist. His big, bouncy balls. The look of lust splashed on his face. Fuck, he’s such a gorgeous man. A gorgeous and off-limits man, who is married to my sister.
And he saw me. I know he did. Boone opened his eyes, saw me standing in his doorway, and he kept going. Not only did he keep going, but he finished. He came with my eyes on him.
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
My hips thrust into my fist, arousal taking over my mind and body. This is so fucked up. So wrong. So hot. It feels so good. I flick my wrist the way he did as I fuck my fist, my lips parted as I moan and cry out. I picture Boone’s hand on my cock instead. Picture us jacking each other off in the dark. Where no one else can see us. It’s a secret. Our secret.
He’d tower over me, his lips right beside my ear as he whispers filthy things. The tickle of his mustache against the shell of my ear would add to the pleasure. Add to the naughtiness. I bet Boone’s got a dirty fucking mouth on him.
Fuck, what I’d give to hear the things he’d growl only for me to hear.
My balls tighten up into my core, and a wave of pleasure overtakes every nerve ending within me. My head feels light and dizzy, my breathing coming out in harsh pants. I’m close. I’m so fucking close.
“Fuck… Shit,” I gasp.
Crying out much louder than I should be this late at night, my release barrels through me, cock throbbing, balls pulsing as the dam breaks and I come and come…and fucking come some more. It’s never ending, and visions of the man upstairs flash in my mind.
My body sags against the door as I calm from the high, the reality of the last twenty minutes hitting me with harsh clarity. This isn’t good. How the hell am I supposed to face Boone tomorrow? What am I supposed to say?
“Hey, man. Sorry for creeping on you and watching you come. My bad! But it was really hot.”
I’m going to have to move out. No, fuck moving out. I’m going to have to move out of the country. I can never face him again. Or my sister. Fuck! What if he tells Jade? What if Jade tells my parents?
I’m so screwed.
So fucked up.
So. Fucking. Dumb.