I want him again enough that it bothers me on a deep, visceral level. My cock starts to harden under my pants but they’re still soaking wet.
“Talk,” he finally says as he’s taping it closed, giving me a pointed look.
Don’t want to talk.
Want to fuck your pretty mouth again.
“Your eyes are so blue,” I tell him.
Maybe Iama little drunker than I realized. He frowns at my comment and glares at me, which only highlights how pretty his eyes are in contrast to the grim look he’s trying to give me.
My cock is only getting harder as I watch Wes reach up to put the first aid kit away and the muscles of his arms flex. His pecs are visible through his wet shirt, too, and I feel like a fucking animal looking at him now.
“Why did you punch that guy?”
I pull in a long breath and reach for a clean towel on the set of shelves in the bathroom. I bring it to my wet hair and scrunch it all around, then I hand it to him.
He dries off his hair a little bit too and it ends up looking shaggy, damp and messy, like he just came back from the beach.
“Unblock my number and maybe I’ll tell you why.”
“Fuck off, Sevan.”
“Unblock me.”
“That picture was… wild.”
“Did you dislike it?”
He pauses, and when he speaks again his voice is lower.
“Of course I did.”
A blush lands on his cheekbones and I can’t control how much my cock responds to that.
He liked it. He fuckinglovedmy picture. And for some reason my dick is becoming more and more obsessed with the fact that Weston cannot hide his desire for me.
Well. Mybody, at least. He isn’t exactly the biggest fan of the rest of me.
He finally speaks. “You have a good cock. You’re obviously aware of it. Stop changing the subject.”
I groan, looking at Weston’s wet T-shirt as it clings around his hard nipples.
“I punched that guy because he said something homophobic about my cousin. I know you don’t like violence of any kind, and I know you’d rather go through life all neat and peaceful andrigid, but if someone is talking shit about my cousin behind his back, I’m sorry, Weston, they’re going to be punched.”
He frowns. “Someone was being homophobic to Niko?”
I nod. “They said that they love his Instagram photos, but that he’ll never make it as a model if all of the women know he takes it up the ass.”
“For God’s sake, womenloveNiko.”
“They sure do. After that the guy was making some crass comments about ‘things gay men do,’ and when he said some heinous shit at the end, I couldn’t take it anymore.”
“Who was this guy?” Weston asks, suddenly very serious.
“Don’t know. He had dark brown hair, a beard. Wish the fucker hadn’t run off after I decked him.”
“We can find out who that was. I’ll ask around. He wasn’t from one of the societies, right?”