Page 73 of Home Ice

“Ah …”

“Of course you do.” He pushes away from the table and stands. “I’ll get it for you.”

I watch Ben disappear into the kitchen and let out a long breath.

“What’s wrong, Hawke?” Barrett asks. “You look uncomfortable.”

“N-no. Everything is fine.”

“Really?” He drops his voice some more. “Because you keep squirming in your seat.”

“I’m full.”

“Liar.” The way his tone laughs at me only makes everything so much worse. This playful side of my best friend is my favorite side.

“It’s not my fault you said you like doing everything you’re told.”

His expression turns smug. “Don’t know what you mean.”

“Fuck off. You knew exactly what you were doing.”

“And what was that?”

The words making me hard get stuck on the way out.

“Did you like it … here?” he asks, foot sliding over my ankle under the table.

I glare at him.

“What about here?” It lifts to skim my calf.

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to figure out where exactly you’re uncomfortable.” Then his foot slips between my legs and lands on my dick. “How about here?”

“Fuck …” I breathe, tilting into his touch. He massages my cock through my shorts, and it brings my whole body alive. But before I can tell him to stop and remind him where we are, his dad walks back in.

“You boys have cleared me out,” he says, sliding the plate back in front of me.

I’m sure I’m supposed to answer him, but all that’s going through my mind is nrrmmzzzgg, and Barrett still isn’t moving away. If anything, his foot is pressing harder, more insistent.

The pressure runs from my balls, all the way up my shaft, and back down again. It’s firm, teasing, and I’d give anything to be able to dry hump him into fucking oblivion, but Ben is still in the room, talking about the milkweed as he collects his plate and cup.

The delicious-smelling dinner in front of me is hardly on my radar as my body temperature creeps higher. I’m worried that at any second, Ben will notice the movement under the table. That he’ll realize one of Barrett’s legs is missing and know exactly where it’s landed. That he’ll pick up on how overheated I’m getting, how my breathing has sped up, how I want to strip off my shirt and pull his son into my lap for some goddamn fucking relief.

Knowing that I can’t come right now is making me want to even more. Barrett and his dad are talking about something, but my entire brain is focused on the way he’s getting me off.

On how he’s rubbing my cock. How he’s teasing me. How desperately I want to pull out my dick and fucking come already.

“Well, that’s me done for the night,” Ben says. “It’s been a big day. Thank you for the help, Hawke.”

“Anytime.” And I mean it. But I also need him to get out right now.

The second he leaves, I grab Barrett’s foot, hold it tighter against me, and finally give in to the urge to thrust. My head falls back, but the relief I need isn’t coming. I’m so close, but I can’t get there like this.

“What do you need?” he murmurs.

“You.”