Roommate Arrangement (Divorced Men's Club #1)(29)

And then Beau shifts again, crossing his legs at the ankles and jittering his legs up and down like he can’t help himself.

The problem with that is it makes the bulge under his pants move too, and I’m watching, shamelessly, as it comes to a rest with his soft sweats molding around it.

Jesus fucking Christ, do I see head?

Motherfucker, I need this movie to be over, like, now.

It’s my turn to shift nervously as I lift my leg to try and hide the situation that’s evolving down south.

“See? He has motivation,” Beau says. “I’m not feeling that in this book. My guy should be hell-bent on getting his man back—”

“Your romance is two dudes?”

“Of course.”

I arch my head back to where his books are lined up neatly on a shelf above his desk. “I want to read one.”

“Go right ahead.”

I make a mental note to grab one of them before I head to bed later. “Are there sex scenes?”

“Yes.” His cheeks redden. “And the rules are if you read one of my books, we both pretend like you aren’t. Don’t tell me if you like it or hate it—we just act like it’s not happening.”

“Deal.” But the sex scenes have me interested. “Are they filthy scenes?”

He gets redder.

“They are!”

“Well, no, they’re—”

“How filthy are we talking?” I cross my arms and lean back into the couch.

“Not … filthy. It’s part of their relationship. A way for them to show they care.”

“HJs? BJs? Anal?” I need to shut up, but thinking of Beau writing those things, of him doing them? I can’t stop my gaze from dipping down to his crotch again.

And when I glance back up, I’ve totally been busted.

Our eyes lock, and the air between us seems to crackle. Awareness of his body, inches away, prickles my skin. I want to move closer. I want to inspect that bulge myself. My own cock is thickening with the need to touch him.

There’s this little line between Beau’s eyebrows as he watches me, completely silent. His mouth opens, and a long, shaky inhale rattles the still air.

I’m about to make a joke of the whole situation, anything to ease the tension—

When Beau surges forward. His mouth is on mine before I can react.

Through parted lips and the swipe of his tongue, I taste scotch and popcorn, mixed with raw need. I have barely enough brain cells still firing to grab his shoulders and push him back. “What are you doing?” I gasp. My stare doesn’t leave his mouth.

When I lick my lips, I can still taste him. Even his shoulders feel good in my grip, and when Beau inhales loudly again, I can’t hold back. He moves, and I meet him halfway.

He pushes me against the backrest and straddles my thighs. His mouth is warm and insistent, and when he licks my bottom lip, I open my mouth to let him inside. His tongue slides against mine, and I let out the groan I’ve been holding in all night, because damn I swear kissing never felt this good.

Hot breath, needy moans, strong body pressed against mine.

I don’t have time to stop and consider what I’m doing, or maybe it’s just that I don’t want to think about it. Beau is here, and willing, and so sexy, I’m not going to say no. Whatever the fallout of our decision, we’ll deal with it tomorrow, hopefully the way we always do. With him being awkward and me cracking jokes.

The real problem will be facing Marty at his thing and not spilling to him that Beau and I crossed all sorts of lines.

My mouth breaks from his to taste his jaw. “You sure this is okay?”

“Please. Oh fuck, don’t stop.”

That’s what I want to hear. I lick his jawline and nip at the place where it meets his neck. “Shit, I need this,” I murmur.

“Me too.”

“Can I touch you?”

Beau whimpers before pushing his sweatpants down, and suddenly his hard, swollen cock is between us.

Fuck. I spit into my palm and wrap my hand around him.

Beau shudders, one hand tangling in my hair as he brings his forehead to mine. Even through his glasses, his eyes are so blue close up. “Make me come.”

Gladly. I ignore my aching cock as I close my free hand over his nape and hold him to me while I jerk him off. I love the feel of him in my hand. His skin is hot, as overheated as I am, and silky smooth. Every pass over the tip brings out more precum for me to smear over him, filling the air between us with the smell of sex. It goes to my head, makes me dizzy. It’s been so long since I’ve felt this desperate sort of urgency for another person that I want to draw it out and make it last as long as possible, but at the same time, there’s no pacing this need inside me.

“You’re right,” he says. “You are good with your hands.”

I squeeze tighter, stroke faster, and Beau’s breathing loses rhythm. I need him to touch me—my body is begging for it—but I ignore the urges as I focus on bringing him as close to the edge as I can.

I want to see that usual frenetic energy burst from him, leaving him boneless and still.

“Kiss me,” he begs.

I tilt my face up and catch his mouth with mine. Soft lips and needy gasps are all that’s between us. I still can’t get it out of my head that it’s Beau I’m doing this with. Beau, who I’ve known forever. Beau, who I caught jerking off and haven’t been able to think of anything else since.