Curious (The Finn Factor 1)

He was really doing this. Jesus, he was so turned on his teeth ground together when he gripped his painfully hard shaft, pulling it out of his jeans right there in the kitchen. Right in front of Owen Finn.

Owen’s hands paused on his own zipper and he moved in for a closer look. Was that flush blooming on his cheeks from arousal? “Damn. He wasn’t lying, was he? That is one big, fat cock. I think I might be jealous. No wonder they beg for it.”

Oh God. “There. Now you’ve seen it. Let’s stop pretending we’re twelve and have another drink.” He started to force it back into his jeans but Owen shook his head.

“Wait.” He licked his lips and Jeremy’s knees nearly buckled. “We had an agreement. I’m supposed to show you mine.”

He parted his jeans and pulled himself out, and just like that, Jeremy felt like begging. How many times had he thought about it? Wondered how it would look? Feel?

“Well?”

“It’s good.” Fuck, it was so good and already hard. Not as long as his—not many were—but thick and totally aroused. “Real good, man. You should be proud. Are we done?”

Owen chuckled. “Am I making you uncomfortable, Mr. Threesome?”

He shook his head but admitted, “I’m not quite drunk enough to find this game as amusing as you seem to.”

“This isn’t a game. And turned on would be more accurate. So hard I hurt would be closer to the truth. Can I touch you?”

He inhaled sharply, too shocked to move away when Owen leaned forward and brushed his lips across Jeremy’s, both of them still holding their erections in their hands.

“God, that’s weird. That’s the first time I’ve been scratched by a beard,” Owen muttered. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist. Can I touch you?” he repeated.

Yes. Please. No…Oh God. “I don’t know what you’re trying to do here, but I really don’t think you’ve thought this through.”

“You want me to. You really want it. Or is your dick so equal-opportunity that any breeze will do?”

“You know you’re drunk.” Jeremy pushed out the accusation breathlessly, so turned on he was afraid he might come right there in front of him. “You said they gave you shots at work. Or maybe the mushrooms on the damn pizza were off. Damn it, Owen, this isn’t you.”

“I didn’t think it was me either, believe me. I tried to remember that every day for two weeks. I wore out my little black book trying to fuck away the image of you making that stranger crazy enough to beg. I visited the club every day for a week and it wasn’t enough. I still replayed it in my mind at night when I closed my eyes, until I got so hard I had to jerk off before I could sleep.”

He reached for Jeremy’s free hand and placed it on his flat stomach, under his t-shirt and just above his erection. He was so warm. “You can touch me too if you want, but I need you to give me permission to do the same. I’m tired of wondering, Jeremy. You know better than anyone how I am when I get an idea in my head. I can’t get this one out until I know. Don’t tell me you’ve never been curious about what it would be like to do this. I know you’ve thought about it. I saw it in your eyes that night. And you’ve been hard since I got here.”

“Owen, you need to think about it,” Jeremy begged, even as his hand slid down the hard abs he’d longed to touch and his fingers brushed the head of Owen’s erection. Finally. Yes. “Think about what happens tomorrow.”

Owen let out a shaky breath. “I don’t want to think anymore. Jesus, your hand is hot. I’ve never had another man touch me like this, Jeremy. Never wanted them to. Just touch it. Tell me I can repay the favor. Say yes.”

It came out before he could stop it. “Yes.”

Jeremy moaned when Owen wrapped his long, work-roughened fingers around his shaft. “Jesus, that’s a monster,” he heard him breathe. “I’m not surprised he was screaming for more.”

There was only so much he could take. How many times had he imagined having Owen willing? Touching him, feeling him in his hands… Fuck, he’d wanted it for so long.

Owen moaned in surprise and desire as Jeremy tightened his fingers around him and skillfully stroked his length, leaning in to take control of the next kiss and forcing open willing lips with his tongue.

Yes. Kissing Owen. Touching Owen.

The hand on Jeremy’s dick was trembling, and he reminded himself that Owen didn’t know what he was asking for. He was experimenting. Testing uncharted waters.

Stroking his erection.

Owen was the one who tore his lips away first. “You’re good at that. I should have known you would be. And that mouth. I bet they beg for your mouth too, don’t they?”