I froze, straining to hear. Was Delaney having a nightmare? Should I check on him?
Another moan, slightly louder. Followed by the rhythmic creak of his bed.
Oh.
Oh, fuck.
Heat rushed through my body. Delaney wasn’t having a nightmare. He was… I swallowed so hard it echoed through the quiet attic.
Next door, the sounds continued, growing more distinct. The cadence of creaking quickened, punctuated by small, helpless noises that went straight to my groin. Without conscious thought, my own hand drifted down, pushing aside the waistband of my underwear and wrapping around my rapidly filling cock.
Maybe Delaney had the right idea. Being around him all day had me in a constant state of pent-up arousal, and I hadn’t jacked off since the day of the storm, when I’d taken care of my morning wood while imagining Delaney on the other side of the wall?—
I sat bolt upright, mind racing.
Holy shit, hadheheardme?
I hadn’t realized how thin the walls were until this moment, and while I couldn’t remember how loud I’d been that morning, I knew I hadn’t been silent. So if Delaney had heard me, and he was making this much noise now…
Hewantedme to hear him.
He was fuckingprovokingme.
As I sat there stunned, another low moan came through the wall, this one louder and more desperate. “Brewer! Fuck.Yesssss.”
My body responded instantly, blood rushing south so fast I felt light-headed. I could picture him perfectly—head thrown back against the pillows, one hand working beneath the sheets, the other perhaps pinching a nipple or splayed across his stomach. That visual, paired with his voice calling my name, sent a jolt of pure lust through me that was almost painful in its intensity.
I was out of bed and down the attic stairs before I could think better of it, moving on instinct and raw need. I moved through the house and up the inside stairs like a lightning strike. Then I paused outside his door, my hands braced on the cool wood of the jamb, giving myself one last chance to turn back.
The sounds continued, growing more urgent. My cock pulsed in my underwear, straining against the fabric as I listened to Delaney’s quickening breaths, the occasional creak of the bed springs, the unmistakable slick sounds of his hand working himself faster.
A guttural moan filtered through the door. “God, Brewer, please…”
Those words, the plea in his voice, shattered the last of my restraint.
I knocked once, then opened the door without waiting for a response.
The room was dimly lit by a bedside lamp, casting everything in a warm golden glow. Delaney lay on his back naked, one hand working beneath the sheet. He stilled when he saw me. Glasses off, his blue eyes were wide and unfocused, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
“Need help with that?” I asked, my voice low and rough.
For a heartbeat, he just stared at me. Then, slowly, he nodded.
I crossed the room in three strides, yanking my shirt over my head as I went. The sheets were cool against my heated skin as I climbed up and straddled him.
Delaney jackknifed up and reached for me immediately, greedy hands skimming over my chest, my shoulders, my back. “Oh, fuck yes.”
My own hands were just as greedy, tracing up his arms and over his collarbone, then up to cup his face.
“You knew I could hear you,” I murmured.
His eyes met mine. “Yes.” No apology, no embarrassment—just uncompromising Delaney honesty.
“You were trying to get me in here? Despite all the complications?”
“No risk,” he said, quoting my earlier words, “no reward.” Then his fingers tangled in my hair as he pulled my mouth to his.
The kiss was hot and demanding. Pure hunger. I nipped at his lower lip, then soothed the sting with my tongue. He made a desperate sound in the back of his throat and arched against me, pushing his dick against mine with only the smooth sheet between us. I spread my legs, bracketing his thighs with mine, and groaned at how fucking good it felt.
