a mild earthquake.
We’re not even in frigging California .
Taggart managed to peel his eyes open to see if Justice was awake and feeling the same thing. And yeah, the other boy was awake. His head was kicked back into the pillow, his face contorted in what Tag first thought was agony.
Instantly alert, Tag swept his gaze lower, sure the guy was suffering from some horrible illness. But holy shit . . . he got real clear on what was happening a heartbeat later.
One of Justice’s big hands rested on his bare stomach, and the other was beneath the blankets, moving up and down. The impressive tent at his groin grew larger as he worked his cock, and Taggart’s mouth went so dry he thought he might choke.
He knew he shouldn’t watch. Knew he should close his eyes and go back to sleep. But watching Justice jerk off was somehow the biggest turn-on of his teenaged life. And he’d seen his share of girly magazines and pornos. Not to mention that just last weekend, Heidi Cummings had given him his first blowjob in the back of her daddy’s Chevy, and watching her blonde head bob on his dick had set him off embarrassingly fast.
Now, watching Justice was threatening to make him come all over himself with no physical stimulation at all.
A fine sheen of sweat glistened on Justice’s chest as his muscles clenched and his body strained under the onslaught of pleasure. What would he do if Tag reached over and . . . and what? Helped? His buddy had everything under control. Besides, Taggart had never been with a guy, and when and if he decided to test those waters, he wouldn’t choose Justice as his first. He couldn’t risk their friendship. He might not have a lot of life experience, but he’d learned enough from his mother to know that truly good friends were the family you chose for yourself, and they were few and far between.
But that didn’t stop him from having to bite his tongue to suppress a groan as Justice’s body arched and his strokes came faster. His lips parted as he began to pant, and damn, Taggart wanted to taste that mouth, to dive inside it and kiss the shit out of his friend as Justice came.
Justice shoved his free hand under the covers and lifted them as his climax took him, and Tag’s mouth watered—honest-to-God watered—as cum shot from the tip of his cock to his sweat-drenched abs and chest.
Taggart’s own cock was rock hard and throbbing, his balls tight with the need to blow. Somehow, he remained silent and still, keeping his breathing controlled and steady, until Justice swung off the bed, his underwear and sleep pants tugged down in front, and dashed off to the bathroom.
With a sigh of relief, Tag palmed his cock, and in five strokes, he was there. The orgasm hit him so hard he saw stars. Quickly, he grabbed a sock off the floor, cleaned himself up, and was eyes closed and faking sleep before Justice even shut off the water.
That image had become Taggart’s masturbation fantasy of choice for years, even long after he and Justice parted ways. Hell, he’d gone to that place in his head as recently as last year, after Ian had destroyed him.
So yeah, Justice had always been there, taking up real estate where he didn’t belong. And that pissed off Tag more than anything else.
The guy had always been in his head and heart. And now he was in his bed, too. How was he supposed to deal with that?
“He’ll be okay, you know.”
Tag looked up to see Ian standing in the doorway, one shoulder braced against the frame, his stockinged feet crossed at the ankles. They hadn’t spoken since the strained conversation earlier. He’d wanted to give Ian some space, sure, but frankly, Tag hadn’t wanted to talk. Not when his brain was still processing everything that’d happened in the last twenty-four hours.
“Yeah, I know he’ll be okay,” Tag said. “Justice has always been a tough bastard.”
“Then why the bedside vigil?”
Tag eyed Ian as he took a swig from the bottle. God, the guy was
We’re not even in frigging California .
Taggart managed to peel his eyes open to see if Justice was awake and feeling the same thing. And yeah, the other boy was awake. His head was kicked back into the pillow, his face contorted in what Tag first thought was agony.
Instantly alert, Tag swept his gaze lower, sure the guy was suffering from some horrible illness. But holy shit . . . he got real clear on what was happening a heartbeat later.
One of Justice’s big hands rested on his bare stomach, and the other was beneath the blankets, moving up and down. The impressive tent at his groin grew larger as he worked his cock, and Taggart’s mouth went so dry he thought he might choke.
He knew he shouldn’t watch. Knew he should close his eyes and go back to sleep. But watching Justice jerk off was somehow the biggest turn-on of his teenaged life. And he’d seen his share of girly magazines and pornos. Not to mention that just last weekend, Heidi Cummings had given him his first blowjob in the back of her daddy’s Chevy, and watching her blonde head bob on his dick had set him off embarrassingly fast.
Now, watching Justice was threatening to make him come all over himself with no physical stimulation at all.
A fine sheen of sweat glistened on Justice’s chest as his muscles clenched and his body strained under the onslaught of pleasure. What would he do if Tag reached over and . . . and what? Helped? His buddy had everything under control. Besides, Taggart had never been with a guy, and when and if he decided to test those waters, he wouldn’t choose Justice as his first. He couldn’t risk their friendship. He might not have a lot of life experience, but he’d learned enough from his mother to know that truly good friends were the family you chose for yourself, and they were few and far between.
But that didn’t stop him from having to bite his tongue to suppress a groan as Justice’s body arched and his strokes came faster. His lips parted as he began to pant, and damn, Taggart wanted to taste that mouth, to dive inside it and kiss the shit out of his friend as Justice came.
Justice shoved his free hand under the covers and lifted them as his climax took him, and Tag’s mouth watered—honest-to-God watered—as cum shot from the tip of his cock to his sweat-drenched abs and chest.
Taggart’s own cock was rock hard and throbbing, his balls tight with the need to blow. Somehow, he remained silent and still, keeping his breathing controlled and steady, until Justice swung off the bed, his underwear and sleep pants tugged down in front, and dashed off to the bathroom.
With a sigh of relief, Tag palmed his cock, and in five strokes, he was there. The orgasm hit him so hard he saw stars. Quickly, he grabbed a sock off the floor, cleaned himself up, and was eyes closed and faking sleep before Justice even shut off the water.
That image had become Taggart’s masturbation fantasy of choice for years, even long after he and Justice parted ways. Hell, he’d gone to that place in his head as recently as last year, after Ian had destroyed him.
So yeah, Justice had always been there, taking up real estate where he didn’t belong. And that pissed off Tag more than anything else.
The guy had always been in his head and heart. And now he was in his bed, too. How was he supposed to deal with that?
“He’ll be okay, you know.”
Tag looked up to see Ian standing in the doorway, one shoulder braced against the frame, his stockinged feet crossed at the ankles. They hadn’t spoken since the strained conversation earlier. He’d wanted to give Ian some space, sure, but frankly, Tag hadn’t wanted to talk. Not when his brain was still processing everything that’d happened in the last twenty-four hours.
“Yeah, I know he’ll be okay,” Tag said. “Justice has always been a tough bastard.”
“Then why the bedside vigil?”
Tag eyed Ian as he took a swig from the bottle. God, the guy was
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