He hadn’t stopped. In fact, he’d taken hold of his partner’s shoulder and started slamming into him so hard he was worried the bed or the lean body beneath him would break. And he hadn’t taken his eyes off Owen.
“Fuck,” the man had gasped. “Fuck, yeah. Oh God, give it to me. Pound my ass with that big fat cock!”
Owen had flinched at the graphic demand, his gaze clashing with Jeremy’s for a few devastating heartbeats before he backed out of the room and closed the door.
Turned on as hell, Jeremy had ridden Tasha’s screaming morsel of a coworker without mercy, imagining it was Owen he was fucking instead. Then he’d buried his face between Tasha’s thighs and made her come so violently she swore she saw stars. By the time he finished and came out to look for his friend, Owen had already left the party and Jeremy’s satisfaction had swiftly turned into regret.
“He’s a big boy, honey,” Tasha had assured him later, when everyone else had gone and they were sharing the last of a bottle of Scotch. “He knows you and I like variety. He does too. He’s plowed through so many women in the last year you’d think he was going for a record. Even his brothers have pulled him aside and told him to turn it down a notch.”
“It’s not the same thing.”
“It is exactly the same thing. We are consenting adults having a little harmless fun. You should see what Master Finn does to his partners at the club.” She lifted the finely arched eyebrows over her sparkling green eyes. “You’d blush, but none of those little submissives can resist him. Hell, most of the Doms have a difficult time.”
“Yet you do.”
She’d looked away from him, the way she always did when the subject came up. “I resist all Finns. Especially the ones who seem to be working out their personal demons on every warm body that isn’t nailed down.”
Owen’s demons and laundry list of conquests aside, Jeremy couldn’t help but feel the sting of his own shame. Not because Owen had seen them, but because of how he’d felt knowing his oldest, closest and most profoundly heterosexual friend had watched him in action.
It had turned him on. Hell, it was turning him on right now. What the hell kind of a person did that make him?
Owen’s laugh interrupted his morose thoughts. “You are really off your game tonight, aren’t you? Your undefeated champion just got his head lopped off by a tree-dwelling ogre and you didn’t even notice.”
“Sorry.” Jeremy shifted, his controller doing little to hide his erection. He pressed the pause button on the game. “Another beer?”
Though Owen was looking at him with a curious expression, he nodded. “Yeah, thanks.”
Jeremy got up and walked swiftly to the kitchen. He needed to get this reaction reined in. This man’s friendship was the most important thing in his life. He could be a stubborn jackass, but he was loyal and dedicated to the people he cared about. And his family—the Finns had always been there for him. Even when no one else was. A fact he tried to remember to help control his desire to jump their son.
He was holding the neck of a cold bottle when he turned to find Owen leaning against the counter across from him, arms folded. “Did you want something else instead? Coffee? I have tequila.”
“Tequila sounds good.” His subdued smile made Jeremy wary.
“I feel guilty as hell that I didn’t have time to get you a cake.” Jeremy grabbed two shot glasses and filled them, handing one to Owen before tapping their glasses together. “But maybe this will do instead. Happy Birthday, man.”
“I don’t want cake.” Owen threw back his shot and slowly lowered his glass, licking the remnants from his lips. “This works just fine.”
Jeremy followed suit, feeling the heat hit his stomach and spread through his limbs. He lifted the bottle and studied the contents, hoping it would be enough to get his mind off of Owen’s lips. “Another?”
He shook his head. “That might not be a good idea. The guys at work made me down a few shots already. Probably to prepare me for my present.”
“What did they get you?”
“A stripper. They actually brought her to my office.”
“To that shitty ass trailer?” Jeremy tried to smile back. “Sounds like somebody wants a raise.”
“My money is on Scott, but he’s not getting one. It wasn’t exactly a professional thing to do.”
“Says the man who almost convinced a chorus line of topless dancers to attend our college graduation ceremony,” Jeremy said dryly. “If it was him, he has to at least get points for showing initiative. That would be more work than he’s done all year.”
When Owen didn’t respond, he raised his brows in question. “Well don’t keep me in suspense. How was she?”