mentions of Club 69. Not even an intimate encounter
that would put my willpower to the test. No mention of his girlfriend either.
The entire dinner focused mostly on our trip to Montana,
Kellan’s house—it’s been in his family for generations—and a very
long and heated conversation on the New York Yankees, Mandy’s team, and Boston
Red Sox, Kellan’s favorite baseball team. Even Mandy, with her intense
character and her big mouth, kept any snarky remarks to herself, for which I
was very grateful. Except for a few glances Kellan and I exchanged, nothing
happened—which both relieved and frustrated the hell out of me. At around
two a.m., tiredness crept over me, and I excused myself, leaving Mandy and
Kellan alone in the living room.
Which, maybe I shouldn’t have, because now I have no idea
what went down.
What is still going down.
I might have been so focused on avoiding him that the
thought of him hitting on Mandy never occurred to me when it was a likely
possibility. Their heated discussion could have easily turned into a heated
situation with them ending up in his bed.
Upon our arrival, when Mandy hinted not so subtly that she’d
go after him I didn’t take her seriously. How could I have been so wrong? A
pang of pain, raw and sharp, hits me in the chest. I can’t help but feel
betrayed.
I rise to my feet and tiptoe to the door, my heart beating
in a frenzy. Fear chokes my throat as I head for Kellan’s room and linger in
front of the door.
It’s cracked open. Caught in the throes of passion, they
probably forgot to close it.
My heart lurches. I feel faint.
Every part of my brain tells me that Kellan can fuck
whomever he wants.
But every fiber of my being screams that Mandy knows I’m
into him. That even though I told her she could fuck him, I didn’t mean it.
Maybe she wants him for herself.
I have to know what’s happening in there, if only to know
where I’m standing.
I close my eyes, sickness washing over me as I picture the
worst-case scenario.
I promise myself not to be angry at Mandy, but I know that’s
not a promise I can keep.
By fucking him, she’s betraying every friendship code.
Should I make my presence known? Should I confront them? I
have no plan. I just need to know.
Opening my eyes, I take a deep breath to prepare myself for
what I’m about to see. As I crack the door a little bit wider so I can scan the
room through the gap, nothing could have prepared me for what I see.
The truth hits me like thunder.
The bed is on the east side, facing the wall to my room.
Kellan’s alone, naked on the bed, his eyes shut. He’s propped up against the
pillows; the sheets are gathered around his ankles. A radio station is running in
the background, voices chatting, but the volume’s too low to make out the
words.
There is no woman, no girl, no Mandy in sight.
He is all alone with his cock. His enormous, hard cock,
which he now holds in his hand.
Holy shit.
I stare at his erection, the blood rising to my face. I know
I should head back to my room, but I can’t. I’m too mesmerized by what I see.
The picture in front of me is hot. Too hot. It’s so much
better than anything I’ve ever seen. And so intimate. I hold my breath as I
take him in.
All of him.
He looks like a god engaged in his favorite activity, his
beautiful face drawn in concentration.
One hand is wrapped around his cock, moving up and down in
hard, determined strokes, the other pressed down on his balls, forcing back the
orgasm he’s chasing. His lips are slightly parted as another sexy moan ripples
through his chest.
I stare at the engorged head glistening with wet arousal,
and something twitches between my legs.
He’s so caught up in his own pleasure that he doesn’t hear
me, even though I’m pretty sure my own heartbeat’s so loud that even Mandy can
hear it from her bedroom on the far side of the hall.
This is too personal. I shouldn’t be watching him,
particularly when I don’t even have a
that would put my willpower to the test. No mention of his girlfriend either.
The entire dinner focused mostly on our trip to Montana,
Kellan’s house—it’s been in his family for generations—and a very
long and heated conversation on the New York Yankees, Mandy’s team, and Boston
Red Sox, Kellan’s favorite baseball team. Even Mandy, with her intense
character and her big mouth, kept any snarky remarks to herself, for which I
was very grateful. Except for a few glances Kellan and I exchanged, nothing
happened—which both relieved and frustrated the hell out of me. At around
two a.m., tiredness crept over me, and I excused myself, leaving Mandy and
Kellan alone in the living room.
Which, maybe I shouldn’t have, because now I have no idea
what went down.
What is still going down.
I might have been so focused on avoiding him that the
thought of him hitting on Mandy never occurred to me when it was a likely
possibility. Their heated discussion could have easily turned into a heated
situation with them ending up in his bed.
Upon our arrival, when Mandy hinted not so subtly that she’d
go after him I didn’t take her seriously. How could I have been so wrong? A
pang of pain, raw and sharp, hits me in the chest. I can’t help but feel
betrayed.
I rise to my feet and tiptoe to the door, my heart beating
in a frenzy. Fear chokes my throat as I head for Kellan’s room and linger in
front of the door.
It’s cracked open. Caught in the throes of passion, they
probably forgot to close it.
My heart lurches. I feel faint.
Every part of my brain tells me that Kellan can fuck
whomever he wants.
But every fiber of my being screams that Mandy knows I’m
into him. That even though I told her she could fuck him, I didn’t mean it.
Maybe she wants him for herself.
I have to know what’s happening in there, if only to know
where I’m standing.
I close my eyes, sickness washing over me as I picture the
worst-case scenario.
I promise myself not to be angry at Mandy, but I know that’s
not a promise I can keep.
By fucking him, she’s betraying every friendship code.
Should I make my presence known? Should I confront them? I
have no plan. I just need to know.
Opening my eyes, I take a deep breath to prepare myself for
what I’m about to see. As I crack the door a little bit wider so I can scan the
room through the gap, nothing could have prepared me for what I see.
The truth hits me like thunder.
The bed is on the east side, facing the wall to my room.
Kellan’s alone, naked on the bed, his eyes shut. He’s propped up against the
pillows; the sheets are gathered around his ankles. A radio station is running in
the background, voices chatting, but the volume’s too low to make out the
words.
There is no woman, no girl, no Mandy in sight.
He is all alone with his cock. His enormous, hard cock,
which he now holds in his hand.
Holy shit.
I stare at his erection, the blood rising to my face. I know
I should head back to my room, but I can’t. I’m too mesmerized by what I see.
The picture in front of me is hot. Too hot. It’s so much
better than anything I’ve ever seen. And so intimate. I hold my breath as I
take him in.
All of him.
He looks like a god engaged in his favorite activity, his
beautiful face drawn in concentration.
One hand is wrapped around his cock, moving up and down in
hard, determined strokes, the other pressed down on his balls, forcing back the
orgasm he’s chasing. His lips are slightly parted as another sexy moan ripples
through his chest.
I stare at the engorged head glistening with wet arousal,
and something twitches between my legs.
He’s so caught up in his own pleasure that he doesn’t hear
me, even though I’m pretty sure my own heartbeat’s so loud that even Mandy can
hear it from her bedroom on the far side of the hall.
This is too personal. I shouldn’t be watching him,
particularly when I don’t even have a
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