Читать книгу Anything but Ordinary - Madelynne Ellis, Madelynne Ellis - Страница 12

Ric didn’t raise his head from the computer screen until long after Zach retired. Frankly, given how unbalanced he felt, concentrating on cycling through hundreds of digital images had seemed the best course of action. He didn’t want to lash out at Zach, who in this instance hadn’t done anything wrong, nor did he want to end up fucking him in a fit of anger, which wasn’t to say he didn’t want to fuck him, because he did. Oh, God, did he. His cock remained as stiff as the rest of him. His shoulders and the back of his neck burned as he tried to straighten up.

Of course, he could attempt to blame his erection on the photographs he’d been viewing, all of which were erotic in nature, and many of which were of his lovers, but he’d long ago learned to disassociate himself from the media he produced. It rarely affected him now, unless he allowed it to do so. Better to view it rationally, in terms of lighting and composition, than be rendered ineffective by allowing himself an emotional response to it, at least until he reached the mounting stage.

Mounting…

His cock bucked at the mere suggestion.

Damn! This was all the fault of Kara’s brother.

Chris North’s arrival had ruined everything. Ric had been a hair’s breadth from the most intimate moment of his life. He’d been so in tune with both Zach and Kara that he could feel their orgasms building as if they were his own. He’d wanted his cock bound that closely to Zach’s as he’d climaxed, had wanted the other man’s come on him, like it was a scent marker, or a badge of ownership.

Instead, he’d had the earth ripped from beneath his feet, and he’d skydived. There was no parachute to slow his descent. At some point he knew he’d hit the ground, but it hadn’t happened yet. He remained in free fall, and the worst part wasn’t knowing he’d crash, it was that careening out of control turned him on.

Yeah, screw-up that he was, he got a thrill out of having the floor disappear from under him. Yet at the same time he didn’t want to be speeding towards an inevitable pile-up in a car that had no brakes, only an accelerator and a turbo boost.

Christ, he’d ridden this track before. The only place it ended was heartbreak.

For days after Scarlett’s death he’d struggled to breathe. Shock, they called it. The medical term for a crippling agony. He’d been a maelstrom of emotions. Too tormented by guilt to articulate what he felt, but desperate to express it. The fact that his veins had been full of drugs and booze at the time had only made the downwards spiral worse.

You could love somebody too much, until it was toxic. He and Scarlett had been a volatile mix from day one. They should never have been allowed in the same room together. She’d been his whole world, nothing existed outside her. He didn’t want to end up in that space again. But things with Zach and Kara seemed to be forever tugging him along that path, and any form of denial only made it worse.

He didn’t want them to matter, but they did.

He wanted to be able to deal with his frustration efficiently, but he couldn’t.

No strings and no emotions had kept him sane for the best part of seven years; now he felt trapped. There was no option of just going and getting laid any more. Sex was now cocooned within the bounds of a triangular relationship.

He was in a relationship!

How fucking awful was that?

‘Not awful,’ a little voice in his subconscious crooned. Ric ignored it. Pretended it didn’t exist, thus avoiding another round of that skydiving shit. His stomach was already in his throat.

And he was freezing.

And his own thoughts didn’t even make any sense.

Shit! When had it grown so cold? A hint of vapour clouded the air when he exhaled. He rubbed at his arms. It was summer, and sure, the British weather sucked, but it had no right to be this chilly.

Ric hobbled over to the nearest radiator and put his hand to the metal. Not even warm. The heating must have turned off hours ago. No wonder his muscles were protesting every step and he was curled over like a hunchback.

Irritably, he rubbed at the back of his neck. It failed to release the tension. A long hot soak would sort it out, but he knew if he climbed into the bath now he’d be asleep in minutes. Did he really want to wake submerged in cold water tomorrow morning, when Zach stumbled into the bathroom looking for his razor?

Nope, not really.

A better plan would be to go to bed and sleep it off.

Bed, yeah. That place where Zach was.

He could be warm and snug, and wouldn’t be able to keep his hands to himself. It was hardly fair to wake Zach at this hour, especially as he’d be doing it for the same wrong reasons that had stopped him initiating anything when it had been the other side of midnight.

They ought to have just screwed while Kara was out of the room having that head-to-head with her brother, instead of settling for a few rough kisses. It’s what he’d wanted to do, and what his frayed nerves and cock had demanded he do. He’d needed to finish things, but Zach – mister fair play – had said it was inconsiderate to leave Kara out.

Stupid rules.

Stupid conscience.

He ought to have listened to his dick and made it about sex, not emotions.

So just jerk one off, and be done with, you stupid bugger.

Like that’d even work.

It might. He could make himself come easily enough.

He pushed his hand inside his jeans through the busted fly and stroked along the hot length of his cock.

Coming wasn’t the problem. It was doing it in a way that didn’t leave him still hard and eager for more.

Ric briefly considered returning to the computer and surfing for porn, but ruled it out. His studio housed a collection of erotic material far superior to anything he’d find online. Nor did it require a computer to view it. He had only to flip around a few of the mounted images that lay stacked around the room.

Ric reached for the most recently framed pile of photographs, knowing they were all of Zach, some with Kara, some without, all highly voyeuristic. The first was a close-up of Zach’s face. He remembered taking this particular shot so vividly, how Zach’s spine had arched to meet the back of the spindly wooden chair, and how his hand had been positioned on his cock, stroking. Ric had stepped in at the last minute and brought Zach off. He’d watched his lover’s eyes close, lips part around a cry of pleasure – beautiful, and yeah, the money shot had been pretty spectacular too.

But no. This wasn’t the answer. It would only intensify his need. While wanking was undoubtedly quick and efficient, it rarely satisfied him even when he wasn’t tetchy as hell. He’d rather shoot once in a way that left him reeling than give himself arm ache seeking fifteen lesser quakes.

Of course, he’d happily watch Zach play with himself until doomsday.

Sex was what he needed. Rough, glorious, bruising, sweaty, dirty sex. Maybe he needed to forget that crap about being noble and just accept that it was OK to be selfish sometimes.

Ric squinted at the clock. It didn’t seem very likely he’d find Zach awake and waiting for him. He nevertheless made his way downstairs to their bedroom.

A pale yellow glow shone around the edge of the door as he approached. Zach had obviously fallen asleep with the lamp on. Ric went inside. Sure enough his lover was comatose on his back, splayed across the mattress like a starfish, completely naked, unless you counted one scrunched corner of the duvet that he was clinging to like a security blanket.

Most of the bedding was on the floor, including all but one pillow. Kind of made him wonder if it was intended as a hint that he should sleep there.

Well, fuck that.

Ric stripped off his jeans and approached the bed. He stopped near the base, next to where Zach’s foot overhung the mattress, and traced the curve of his instep.