Best Of Both Worlds (Colorado Black Diamonds #4)

Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

GRAHAM

F uck. Does that ever feel good.

Whosever mouth is on my cock right now, it feels fucking amazing. Peeking one eye open, I see a brown head of hair bobbing up and down on me.

That mouth is fucking delicious.

Warm. Wet.

Resting my arms behind my head, I shut my eyes as they continue working their magic.

It’s been too long since I’ve gotten a blow job like this. Maybe that’s why I’m so strung out lately. I just needed to get some action.

“Fuck. That feels good, baby,” I whisper.

“Mmm.” They purr around the head of my dick.

That voice. It sounds familiar, but with the heat buzzing through me, I’m so close to coming, I don’t give it much thought.

Until a warm, solid hand squeezes my balls. It’s too strong to be a woman. Propping up on my elbows, I gaze down at the person who is working me over.

Noah.

Oh holy fuck. With one flick of his tongue through my slit, I’m?—

“Holy shit!” The mess in my boxers pulls me from sleep as the sheets tangle around my legs. “Holy shit!”

Looking down, my dick is popping out of the hole in my plaid boxer shorts, sticky with cum.

Because I had a sex dream.

And not just any sex dream.

A sex dream starring Noah Fields and his mouth. His mouth that made me come harder than I have in a long time.

“Fuck.”

Looking at the clock next to my bed, it’s half past two.

I kick the sheets off from my feet, then head into my bathroom and turn the shower on.

Straight to ice-cold.

I do not need a repeat of what happened.

Of Noah giving me a blow job.

Fuck. Not something I need to be thinking about because my dick is already taking interest again.

Chucking my messy boxers into my laundry basket, I step under the spray of the shower. Not ice-cold, but lukewarm.

Doing nothing to help my still growing problem.

Fuck.

It’s hard to ignore my dick as I rinse off, trying my best to push all thoughts of the dream from my head.

Something like that has never happened to me before.

It’s been a weird few weeks. That has to be the reason I had a sex dream about Noah.

Seeing that bartender try to pick him up the other night? Was I jealous? Did I want to be the one picking him up instead?

Fuck.

Stop thinking about it.

But the harder I try not to think about it, the more I end up thinking about it. And it’s getting too painful to ignore.

Grabbing some body wash for lube, I take myself in hand and slowly start to jack myself. It’s immediate relief.

Picturing someone—anyone but Noah—on their knees for me. Another warm mouth. Another hand playing with my balls just how I like. Another set of eyes staring up at me.

That’s it.

Nice and slow.

Just how I like. Driving me wild with that tongue of theirs. But right before I come, it’s Noah.

Noah’s mouth.

Noah’s hand.

Noah’s eyes encouraging me to come down his throat.

“Fuck!” I shout, painting my release on the shower wall.

Guilt hangs heavy over me as I make quick work of cleaning up my mess and shutting off the water.

Drying myself off, I wipe off the mirror and study myself.

This has never been me. I’ve never felt bad about getting off before. Now I’m feeling pretty terrible because I have no idea what I’m doing.

What this means.

I’ve never been attracted to a man before. Having these feelings swirling around inside my head has to mean something.

What, I don’t know.

Tossing the towel into the laundry bin with the rest of the evidence of this weird night, I head back into my room to try and sleep.

Except sleep is elusive. I toss and turn all night trying to shut off my overactive brain. What I’m feeling for him isn’t real. It’s just a reaction to seeing the bartender hit on him the other night. That has to be the only logical explanation for this.

It’s an endless cycle of trying to forget about Noah, then thinking too much about him, and then trying to forget again.

Lather, rinse, repeat.

By the time six o’clock rolls around, I give up and grab some clothes to go for a run. Maybe I can sweat out the new feelings I’m having.

After lacing up my tennis shoes, I head to the kitchen and come to an abrupt halt.

Noah.

Standing shirtless in the kitchen drinking a glass of OJ.

Fuck. Me.

As if things weren’t hard enough as it is, there he is. Half-naked. Not knowing the havoc he’s wreaking on my emotions.

“Hey.” His husky voice, heavy with sleep, startles me.

“Uh. Hi.”

“Sorry, did I wake you up?” he asks. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Fuck. I hope I didn’t wake him up with the sound of me coming. To thoughts of him.

“No. Couldn’t sleep either. Figured I might as well go for a run.”

Noah sets his glass down on the counter, wiping his mouth. I focus on the wall behind him so I don’t get distracted.

Seeing those lips wrapped around my cock in my dream was bad enough. Seeing them now? I don’t need to relive that image.

“You mind if I go with you? I could work out a few things today on my body.”

Fuck. Me.

Again.

Does he realize what he’s saying? Or is it just my mind turning everything dirty right now?

I have half a mind to say no. To say screw it and just get back into bed and try to sleep this off.

That’s not what comes out.

“Sure.”

“Great. Give me a few to change and I’ll be right out.”

“Take your time.”

Noah brushes by me as he heads to his room. I do my best to ignore the smell of him. The laundry-fresh scent of his clings to me. Does funny things to my insides. Has my skin feeling too tight for my body.

I grab a glass from the cabinet and fill it to the brim with water before chugging it down. It does little to help.

Especially when Noah comes back out in a skin-tight Knights tee and shorts that show off his muscular thighs.

Things I shouldn’t be noticing.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

I am so not ready for this.