CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

L uke

A low groan emanates from the bathroom, and my body is suddenly alert. Was that Sebastian?

My nerve endings tingle, and my cock, which has been harder and more throbbing than it usually is on mornings, jerks.

Images of a naked man with a pretty face and a thin frame with water dripping down his body, his cheeks red and flushed from the heat, invade my mind.

I imagine Sebastian touching himself. Taking himself in his hand. My heartbeat skitters, uneven and wild.

The shower turns off.

I probably imagined it.

If anything, the sound was probably a pipe or something.

I’m quiet, as if I might hear the squelch of a hand moving quickly over a hard cock, as if I might hear moans emitting from a closed mouth, the person groaning too lost in his own thoughts to be cognizant of the sexual sounds coming from him.

I’m not normally this horny. Normally I laugh when my teammates talk about their urge to thrust and come. Normally I think they’re exaggerating, using the same shock techniques as comedians.

But maybe the urge was there all along. My cock throbs against my boxer briefs and pajama pants, the double layers not making it any less sordid. I run a finger along my shaft. God, I want to come.

I don’t think it will take much.

I have the horrible thought that if I do come, I will be thinking about Sebastian. Sebastian, even though he’s male. Sebastian, even though I’m on a dating show and should be thinking about future brides, not hard cocks.

Movements sound in the bathroom, over the whirr of the fan. I imagine him drying himself with one of the fluffy towels inside, and I wish I could pat him dry. I want to warm him up, to chase each wet drop away, to rub the towel through his hair while he blinks up at me with his bright blue eyes, water dripping from his long lashes, his pink lips, his...

The door opens.

Sebastian appears, fully dressed. His eyes bounce around the room, and if I didn’t know better, I would think his expression was guilty. But the only person who should be guilty here is me.

I shouldn’t be having such thoughts about him. He’s in my room because of his work, and because my work couldn’t find him his own room. He slept in my arms, and I told myself I wanted to keep him warm, keep him safe from coldness and discomfort.

But maybe part of me wanted to feel his body against my own. Maybe part of me wanted to inhale his scent, even when not enhanced by fancy cologne, even when all I can smell is him. Maybe I wanted to feel long slender limbs and a round, firm ass. Maybe I would have loved to see his cock too. Loved to feel it. Loved to taste it.

Sebastian’s look turns strange, and I realize I probably should have greeted him.

I flash my best smile. “Good morning.”

He answers with a wobbly smile of his own I want to kiss away so I feel a smile pressed against my cheek and hear a throaty laugh waft toward my ears. “The bathroom is all yours.”

Right.

I move, but then I consider my cock. My hardness is super indecent. The sort of hardness you get when you’re about to enter someone. The sort of hardness that might make him think I was thinking indecent thoughts. The sort of hardness that might make him uncomfortable.

“Maybe I’ll, um, wait.”

“You don’t want to go down to breakfast together? Oskar texted and said he’s planning an early start.”

I shake my head guiltily. “You go ahead.”

“But—” Something flutters over his face, transforming his facial features from wonder and worry to understanding. But not the good kind of understanding. His features harden, and he turns away, his shoulders less high than they were a moment ago. “Don’t worry. I’ll go myself.”

Something about this conversation feels off, even though this is the outcome I wanted.

“Wait... Actually...”

He glances at me, and I wonder if he would notice if I carried a pillow in front of me on the way to the bathroom.

I shake my head. “I’ll be there soon. I promise.”

I promise, but his cheeks are a pinker shade than before, and he doesn’t meet my gaze, as if he’s still feeling guilty for some reason.

The only person feeling guilty should be me.

The door shuts behind him, and when I go to the bathroom, my cock has already softened, hot shame blazing every cell.