Chapter 11
Sierra
The sounds reach me first on the walk back. Talon is no longer in front of the car. He’s nowhere in sight.
“Talon?” I call lightly, curiosity pulling me toward the shed, where the sound of heavy, rhythmic breathing is coming from. I’m not sure what I expect to find—maybe he’s rummaging for tools or working on an engine. Or perhaps he’s just blowing off steam with a set of push-ups.
What I find stops me cold.
Talon stands with his back leaning against the wall, eyes squeezed shut, hand wrapped tight around his large, veiny cock, stroking hard and fast.
So much for push-ups.
I can’t even laugh at the thought that flickers through my mind. I’m too caught in the sight of him.
His body arches, muscles straining under his own grip, his shoulders pressed to the wall, his head tipped back as a guttural groan tears out of him.
Sweat tracks down his chest, sliding over hard muscle, making him gleam.
It feels obscene, like I’ve walked into something private and intimate—and somehow, it feels like it’s for me.
Holy shit.
His face is tight with pleasure, jaw slack, breath shuddering as he pushes himself higher, chasing it, holding it—
“Fuck!”
The release hits, sharp and sudden, white spilling into his hand.
My breath catches. I don’t think I’ve breathed at all. I’ve never seen anything like this, never felt desire hit so fast, so hard.
I can’t look away. My gaze drags over him, memorizing every line, every flex of muscle.
He’s beautiful. Completely, overwhelmingly masculine.
And his cock—
My attention locks there as he pants, still hard, not fully spent. He’s uncut—something I’ve never seen in person before. I thought it might put me off.
It doesn’t.
I can’t stop imagining dropping to my knees, taking him into my mouth, tasting him, licking him clean.
He’s still half-hard, veins thick, the tip only just softening.
God, he must be sensitive right now. Just touching him would be electric. Part of him—some part—must want more.
I would beg. As humiliating as it is, I would beg him for a taste.
A soft, desperate sound slips from my throat, and his head snaps toward me.
He sees me.
We freeze.
For a second, nothing exists but the two of us. The air goes still. My mind blanks under the heat in his eyes.
The world narrows to breath and tension, something tight pulling between us, drawing me closer, urging me forward.
My foot moves. One step. Then another.
I don’t even know what I’m going to do.
I don’t get the chance to find out.
He turns sharply away with a rough, angry sound.
And just like that, the spell breaks.
Everything rushes back—logic, awareness, humiliation.
Oh God.
I was just standing there watching him. Watching him jerk off in his own shed.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” I blurt, spinning around, my cheeks burning.
Only then do I realize I’m still holding the plate of French toast I grabbed from the kitchen.
I brought it for him because I thought he might be hungry, and to thank him for fixing my car. But the second I saw him… doing that… I forgot all about it.
How I didn’t drop it, I have no idea.
Seeing him like that woke something inside me. My thoughts turned filthy fast. Him grabbing me, shoving me over the workbench, taking me from behind like something wild and untamed.
God, I was so turned on. I wanted to climb him like a tree.
But now I’ve made everything worse.
I’ve made it awkward.
Behind me, I hear the sharp sound of a zipper, and panic surges. What do I even say? Do I just leave? Pretend none of this happened? Bury my head in the sand? And what do I do with the plate?
My heart jumps as his footsteps approach. When he stops behind me, I turn slowly, forcing myself to look up.
For once, his expression is wide open. His face is flushed deep red, his eyes dark, his mouth parting like he’s about to say something.
Oh God. I don’t want to hear it. I can’t hear it.
“Here, I got you some breakfast.”
I shove the plate into his chest and bolt for the door.
As soon as I’m outside, I feel stupid. I’ve been ridiculous. I’ve acted like a little child. In a few hours—or days—I’m going to cringe remembering how I ran away from a man because I saw him masturbating and was too scared to face him.
Right now, though, I just need to get away before I do something even worse. Something even more humiliating. Like getting on my knees and begging him to fuck me.
I stride back to the main building, dash through the entrance and head at full tilt down the hall heading to my room before anything else bad happens. But just as I turn the corner, someone’s coming the opposite way.
I slam straight into a hard chest.
“Whoa.” A familiar, gentle voice. Strong hands grip my shoulders, steadying me. “Are you okay?”
Seriously. Of all the people I could’ve run into, it had to be Reid. The last thing I need is to bump into him, making everything worse.
“I’m fine,” I bite out, my heart racing wildly.
“Are you sure?” he asks, his voice calm, steady, like a slow-moving river. I hate how much it soothes me. He tips my chin up. “Breathe, Sierra. You’re fine. Just calm down, alright?”
He thinks I’m having a panic attack. God, if it weren’t so pathetic, so humiliating, it would be funny.
Though honestly, it does feel a bit like one.
My head’s spinning, my chest tight. Breathing might actually help.
I go along with it because it’s easier than explaining the truth—that I just watched another man get himself off and now I’m so embarrassed and turned on I need to get to my room immediately.
“Do you want to talk to someone?” he asks. “Not me, obviously, but we have qualified therapists here.”
“No, thanks. Really, I’m fine.” I step back, breaking his hold. “I just needed a minute. Now, if you’ll excuse me—”
“There you are,” another voice cuts in, and I groan internally.
Luke approaches from the dining hall, all easy smiles, though his gaze flicks between Reid and me with curiosity. “Been looking for you both. Breakfast is ready, Sierra, and Ashley wants you, Reid.”
I stiffen. What does she want with him? But Reid only sighs.
“Where is she?”
“Dining hall.”
He nods, then looks back at me. “There’s no shame in talking about things that bother you. Even just to get them off your chest.”
“I’m good, seriously.” I say shortly. Doing my very best to pull myself together and act normal. He gives me a regretful look before heading off.
“What’s up?” Luke asks, lingering. “What do you need to talk to someone about?”
Oh, just my raging, inconvenient libido.
“Nothing,” I say.
He leans closer, voice dropping. “One of these days, I’m going to get inside your head and drag all those secrets out of you.”
“You couldn’t handle my secrets,” I shoot back, meeting his gaze.
“Try me.”
“Not a chance.” I walk off, his laughter trailing behind me.
We head into the dining hall. Jus as before, everything looks and smells incredible, but I can’t focus on the food. I eat mechanically while conversation flows around me, barely registering a word.
All I can think about is Talon. What I saw him doing. What it did to me.
What it’s still doing to me.
“You alright, Sierra?” Luke says.
“Fine,” I reply automatically.
My body is still keyed up, every thought dragging me back there. It’s hard to swallow. I chew the same bite over and over until it turns to mush.
Aside from Luke, and maybe Reid, no one else seems to notice, too busy with their own conversations.
As soon as breakfast is over, I make a beeline for my room, shut the door, and dig through my bag.
Thank God I brought my vibrator.
I tear it open, slide a fresh battery inside, and climb onto the bed, kicking off my pants as I do so.
Moments later, the vibrations hit me, and I have to clamp a hand over my mouth to muffle the sound that threatens to escape. It’s more intense than usual, sharper, deeper—probably because my mind is still stuck on what happened earlier.
On him.
I picture Talon above me, his hand between my legs, his eyes locked on mine. Then, without consciously deciding it, I find Luke is there too, his fingers threading through my hair, that knowing smirk on his lips.
“You enjoying yourself, pretty lady?” he murmurs.
My breath shudders. My body arches as pressure builds low in my stomach, heat rippling through me.
This is going to hit hard. I can already feel it.
Fantasy Luke drags his mouth down my neck, one hand closing over my breast, teasing my nipple before taking it into his mouth. The sensation is so vivid I gasp.
“Relax,” a third voice joins, and I hate that it’s him. Reid. His imaginary hand feels very real, warm against my stomach, his voice soft, seductive. “Let go, baby. Just let go.”
“Oh God.” I’m right there. On the edge. Teetering. I press the toy deeper inside me, my body tightening, toes curling—
A loud knock slams into the moment.
I jerk violently in shock, slipping off the bed and crashing onto the floor.