Chapter 6
Chapter Six
HARLEY
I couldn’t believe what was happening. My straight best friend I’d been crushing on for three years was jerking me off. His grip was tentative but eager, his fingers wrapped around my cock with a curiosity that made my hips buck into his touch. “Fuck, I never thought you’d—”
“Please stop,” Ryker muttered, his cheeks flushed as he focused on his task. Literally. “Is this how you like it?”
“Yes,” I gasped.
His thumb swiped over my tip, spreading the precum that had gathered there.
The sight of his dark hair falling across his forehead as he concentrated on pleasuring me was almost too much to handle.
I’d fantasized about this moment countless times, but dreams couldn’t compete with the almost reverent way he looked at me.
“You’re a natural,” I praised, reaching out to stroke his cheek. “Must be all that practice on yourself.”
He snorted but didn’t pull away from my touch. “You’re such an ass.”
“An ass you can’t keep your hands off of, apparently,” I teased.
I grinned as Ryker worked my erection, his eyes fixed on it with a mix of fascination and frustration.
“Fucking hell,” he muttered, adjusting his grip. “Why is your cock so huge? It’s like trying to jerk off a baseball bat.”
I laughed, tilting my head to look at one of the many Renaissance cherub posters his mother had apparently hung while he was away at college. The chubby little angels with their tiny baby dicks were a hilarious contrast to our current activities.
“Compared to your mother’s decorating choices, I’d say I’m practically a god.” I nodded toward the nearest poster. “Look at those poor little cherubs. At least now I know why you’re so shocked. If that’s what you grew up looking at, no wonder you’re impressed by me.”
Ryker followed my gaze and groaned. “Don’t bring my mother’s terrible art choices into this. And don’t flatter yourself.”
“It’s hard not to when you’re looking at me like I’m the eighth wonder of the world.” I shifted my hips to push more firmly into his grip. “Poor baby, is your hand getting tired already? We’ve barely started. Where’s your stamina?”
He scowled but kept stroking. “Sorry. Not all of us have monster dicks that require two hands and a map to navigate.”
“Mmm, but you’re doing so well with your exploration,” I purred, admiring how his cheeks flushed. “Need a break? Maybe we should switch and let me show you how it’s done.”
“I’m not giving up.”
I brushed my fingers along his thigh. “Yours is perfect, though.”
His strokes faltered. “Don’t patronize me.”
“I’m serious,” I insisted. “It’s gorgeous. Just right for sucking. I could take all of you down my throat without gagging.”
He whispered my name but didn’t slow down.
“I bet you hit all the right spots with that curve. It’s the perfect cock for making someone see stars.”
A small whimper escaped him as his hand moved faster on my shaft. His hips jerked, seeking friction that wasn’t there.
“That’s it,” I encouraged, watching his face. “Damn, you look so good touching me like this.”
Another whimper, louder this time, as he worked me with renewed determination. His eyes darted between my face and my cock, as if he couldn’t decide which view he preferred.
My gaze dropped to his stomach, where his release glistened as evidence of his pleasure.
I wanted to taste him so badly, to run my tongue through the mess on his skin and show him how much I craved every part of him.
But I held back. Ryker was tiptoeing through his sexuality crisis like a teenager sneaking past their parents’ bedroom to break curfew.
Make too much noise and he’d bolt back to his hetero hideout faster than I could say “bro job.”
Instead, I focused on the incredible sensation of him working my hard-on, memorizing each detail. A slight furrow formed on his brow as he gauged my reactions.
I’d spent countless nights imagining what it would be like to cross that line with him, but nothing compared to the reality.
It wasn’t just physical, although that part was incredible.
It was about Ryker trusting me enough to explore a new side of himself with me.
Happiness exploded in my chest that made every orgasm I’d ever had look like a sneeze.
“You’re so fucking beautiful like this,” I murmured, captivated by his expression. “All flushed and breathless because of me.”
His gray eyes locked onto mine, reflecting a battlefield of vulnerability and questions. “You know I’ve never done anything with a guy before.”
“I know. That makes it even hotter.”
As the tension coiled inside me, filthy encouragements spilled from my lips. “That’s it, just like that. Fuck, your hand feels so amazing on my cock. I’ve fantasized about you making me explode all over you.”
Ryker’s pupils dilated at my words, his breathing growing more labored. The effect my dirty talk had on him was intoxicating, since he wasn’t retreating but getting more into it.
“Do you enjoy hearing how much I crave you?” I pressed, emboldened by his response. “How many times I’ve jerked off thinking about your pretty lips wrapped around me? How I’ve imagined bending you over every surface in our apartment?”
“Fuck, Harley,” he groaned, his rhythm picking up.
“I want to mark you up,” I continued, my filter completely gone. “Leave evidence so everyone knows you’re mine, leaving you begging for more.”
His breathing quickened, and I could tell my words were getting to him as much as his touch was affecting me. The power of having Ryker trembling because of me was the biggest turn-on I’d ever experienced.
“I bet you’d make the prettiest sounds if I fucked you,” I whispered, watching his eyes widen. “All spread out for me, taking my cock so well, just like you’re taking care of me now.”
I teetered on the edge, the familiar tightening in my balls warning me I wouldn’t last much longer. Not with Ryker looking at me with his pupils blown wide with desire as he worked me over. “You’re about to make me come all over myself.”
Ryker’s breath hitched. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Unable to resist any longer, I tangled my fingers in his hair and tugged him down for a kiss.
Unlike our hesitant explorations earlier, it was aggressive and demanding, my tongue pushing past his lips to claim his mouth.
For one heart-stopping moment, I thought I’d gone too far when he froze.
Then Ryker moaned, kissing me back with an unexpected hunger.
He submitted to me completely as he continued pumping my cock.
His surrender was the final push I needed.
I came with a muffled groan, spilling over his fist and onto my stomach as he stroked me through my release.
When I broke the kiss, we were both breathing hard, foreheads pressed together as reality filtered back in.
I braced myself for the panic, for Ryker to pull away and start making excuses about how this was only physical, how he was still straight, how this meant nothing, that it was merely a onetime fling.
Instead, Ryker glanced down at the mess on my stomach and his hand, then back up at my face with a cheeky smirk. “Guess I’m better at this than I thought.”
His unexpected bravado made me laugh, relief flooding through me. “Don’t get too cocky. I was already worked up from watching you come.”
“It still counts,” he insisted, reaching for tissues from his nightstand to clean us up, passing one to me.
A laugh burst out of me, sharp and surprised. It chased away the knot of dread in my chest. “You’ve got potential, but you’re nowhere near dethroning the champion yet.”
“Practice makes perfect,” he shot back with a grin.
The invitation for more fooling around lifted a weight off my shoulders as the possibility of more opened up before me.
He wasn’t displaying the gay panic or regret I’d expected.
It was just Ryker, being Ryker, turning the moment into something we could both laugh about while acknowledging what had happened between us.
I couldn’t help myself as I watched him toss the tissues into the small trash can beside his bed.
The sight of him flushed and disheveled from our activities, his hair sticking up like he had styled it with a tornado, was too tempting to resist. Before he could retreat into his comfort zone, I reached for him.
“Come here,” I murmured, guiding him toward me.
His eyes widened, but he didn’t pull away. Taking that as permission, I leaned in and pressed my lips to his in a gentle kiss. Unlike our earlier frantic exchange, I was slow and deliberate, savoring the soft warmth of his mouth and the way his breath hitched when my tongue teased his lips.
I kissed him like I’d dreamed of doing for three years. Not with the frantic hunger of lust, but with the aching tenderness of something deeper, something I wasn’t ready to name, even to myself.
When we finally broke apart, Ryker’s gray eyes were dazed, his lips pink and slightly swollen. He blinked at me, confusion and wonder warring on his face. “What was that for?”
The question was simple, but it knocked the air from my lungs.
What was it for? For the three years I’d spent wanting him.
For every time I’d made a joke of my feelings because it was easier than admitting how deep they ran.
Because it might be the only chance I ever got to show him how I really felt.
I swallowed hard, feeling exposed in a way that had nothing to do with my physical nakedness. “I wanted to know what it felt like when we weren’t both ready to combust from three years of sexual tension,” I said, the honesty slipping out before I could stop it.
His eyes softened, and for a terrifying moment, I thought he would see right through me, might recognize the emotion I was trying so hard to hide.
My mouth went dry. I scrambled for the easiest excuse I could find.
“You know, for research. Gotta make sure our fake relationship is convincing enough for your eagle-eyed sister.”