Now Jeremy was confused. He’d been so sure he was right. “You can tell me the truth. It’s obvious seeing her with me rattled you. If you ask my opinion, I think you could win her over if you—”
“Just stop,” Owen bit out forcefully. “This isn’t about her, damn it. It’s about you.”
Jeremy’s head jerked back in surprise. “Me? What about me?”
“Hell.” Owen swallowed, his blue eyes going dark. “You’re going to make me spell it out. Fine.”
He took a step toward Jeremy, yanking the beer out of his hand and setting it on the counter.
“Owen, what the fuck?”
He was standing so close Jeremy could feel his body heat, feel his breath on his cheek as he spoke. “You want to know what I was thinking about today? What got me hard while my birthday present was jiggling her giant tits in my face? That night. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the three of you in that room.”
“Is that what’s been bothering you? Seriously? That’s…that’s normal, Owen,” Jeremy assured him softly, trying not to show any outward reaction to his words. “No man’s dick is immune to a live porn show. Threesomes are hot and we’re visual creatures. It’s the nature of the beast. It doesn’t have to mean anything.”
“Trying to reassure the nervous heterosexual?” Owen chuckled roughly. “That’s sweet. Is it normal that Tasha was nearly naked with her legs spread invitingly, but you were the one I couldn’t stop looking at? That I keep hearing what that guy said about you when you...”
His words faded and he backed away enough to take another look at Jeremy’s now snug jeans. “Did you like it? Having him beg for you like that? Is that why you didn’t stop when you saw me?”
“Owen…”
“I should have turned around the second I opened the door, but I didn’t. Not even when I knew you could see me.” He looked up suddenly, his blue eyes pinning Jeremy in place. “Did you like knowing I was there? Because for a second there, I could have sworn you did.”
Sweet Jesus. “Why are we talking about this?”
“We talk about everything else, Jeremy. Why not this?”
“We never do.” He took a drink and tried to calm his nerves. “We don’t compare stories about our conquests. We don’t talk about sex.”
Because you don’t want to hear about what I do, and I don’t need any more fodder for my fantasies.
“I think it’s time we changed that rule, and I’ll start. I have a request. Call it a birthday present. You do still owe me one, and as you said, you didn’t even get me a cake.” Owen paused and Jeremy felt his stomach knot. “I’d like to see it.”
“See what?” But he knew. He’d never witnessed that expression on Owen’s face. It was sensual. Mesmerizing. Commanding.
“Your cock. I want to see it for myself. I’ve never been this interested before.” Owen shifted, looking rueful. “Well, that’s not entirely true. I’ve actually been thinking about it for a while now.”
“You have?” Did his voice sound unusually high? It did to him.
Owen tilted his head. “You could help me. I’ve been asked to top men at the club and I always hesitate—not because I’m a homophobe, but because I wasn’t sure I could give them what they needed. But you know what men need, don’t you?”
Jeremy couldn’t stop staring. Owen wanted to see his cock? So he could learn how to give other guys what they wanted?
“Sorry,” he finally said, “but I can’t help you with that, Owen. I’m not going to whip out my dick for your fetish research.”
Owen licked his lips. “Fine. Not research then. We can call it intense personal curiosity. A favor from one friend to another. We’ve done favors for each other before. To make it fair...” He smiled and Jeremy knew he was in trouble. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”
Chapter Two
Jeremy tried to laugh but his throat was too tight. This wasn’t happening. “Are you yanking my chain? I know, this wouldn’t be the first time but this is hardcore, even for you. Are you that upset by what happened at the party?”
“I’m not upset but I am serious.” Owen’s hands went to his belt and unbuckled it. “Show me,” he dared in a soft, deep voice that Jeremy couldn’t help but respond to.
Oh holy fuck.
Jeremy’s hands went to the top button on his jeans, almost without conscious thought. He kept his eyes on Owen’s as he lowered the zipper over his swiftly hardening erection, waiting to be stopped.
Owen didn’t stop him.
“This is some fucked-up slumber party shit, Finn,” he told him roughly. “Should we get out the measuring sticks?”
Owen’s attention was focused on the bulge still covered by denim. “This is my slumber party. Take it out, Jeremy. Let me see it.”