“What’re you laughing at?”I finally got upright and slung my arm over his shoulders like we’d been doing this for years.“You think it’s funny to watch me suffer?”
“You call that suffering?”He pushed my arm off and headed back to the house.
I followed him inside, my limbs heavy, my mind circling every mistake I’d made, and a pain lodged under my ribs.
Dylan caught my expression as he slid the door shut behind us.“You good?”
“Yeah.”I held his gaze.“It just hurts a little more each time you reject me.”
His brows drew tight and my stomach dropped.
Shit.That was too much.I was always too fucking much.
“It hurts right here,” I said, pointing to my heart, then dragged my hand down my chest, over my stomach, and cupped the growing bulge in my jeans.“And right here.”I thrust my hips for emphasis and laughed like an asshole.
He didn’t laugh back.“Bathroom is down the hall.First door on the right.”
I dropped my hand from my dick.“Are you always in a bad mood?”
“I’m not in a bad mood.You’re just a pain in my ass.I don’t even know why I invited you here.”
Liar.Beautiful, gorgeous, terrible liar.
I took a step closer, just to see what he’d do.“Really?”
He didn’t move.Didn’t shift even an inch.And then, without warning, his hand was on the back of my neck, and he was pulling me in so fast I forgot how to breathe.
“Shower, now,” he growled.
“Are you joining me?”I tried to smile but failed—too fucking turned on to pretend otherwise.
“Stop asking questions and do what I fucking tell you.”
I groaned, the sound loud and nowhere near controlled.
His grip tightened, his breath hitched, and the press of his hard cock against mine was a promise I was not equipped to handle on my feet.
Dylan McCoy was going to wreck me.Or fix me.Or both, depending on what came next.And standing there with his hand on my neck and his eyes locked on mine, I didn’t care which one it was.I’d take the wrecking.I’d take anything he wanted to give me.
He let go and led me down the hall in silence.
The bathroom was small.With both of us in it, there was nowhere to hide.
He turned on the water and stood with his back to me while it warmed up, and I knew he was doing it on purpose.Letting me look.Letting the anticipation build.
Fuck waiting.
I stripped fast.First my shirt, then my jeans and boxers down in one go.By the time he turned around, I was already naked and hard and not even trying to hide it.
His eyes went straight to my dick and stayed there.I grinned at him, cocky as hell.
Until he started undressing.
And every shred of bravado I’d been holding onto evaporated.
He took his time, and it was the best fucking show of my life.His shirt went up over his abs, over his ribs, over his head.His belt went next, the leather snapping free with a sound that cut clean through the noise of the shower.
I bit my bottom lip and watched.Couldn’t look away.By the time his boxers hit the floor, I was stroking myself, precum already beading at my tip.