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Thomas's Choice

Page 34

   


It was Eddie who finally broke the silence. “I see there’s no damage.” He turned back to the stairs. “I’ll be going to sleep then.”
Thomas reached for the towel. “There might be aftershocks. Keep a flashlight next to your bed, just in case there’s a bigger one coming.”
Eddie nodded. “Sure.” He disappeared out of sight, and a few seconds later the door to the upper floor was closed, and Thomas was alone again.
His cock ached, wanting to feel Eddie’s body, his hands, his mouth, his ass. Any which way he could get him.
Eddie rushed to his room and closed the door behind him, breathing heavily. Fuck, he should have never gone down to the garage! But when the earthquake had hit, a 5-pointer for sure, concern for Thomas had made him run down there, knowing he was working on one of his motorcycles. What if one of the heavy machines had fallen on him, or God forbid, what if the SUV had somehow shifted and pinned him against a wall?
He’d expected the worst when he’d run into the garage, but he hadn’t expected to see Thomas in his underwear. In his nearly transparent underwear. Gazing at his wet torso had been bad enough: his mentor had a ripped, hairless chest with beautifully-defined muscles, sculpted so perfectly not even Michelangelo’s David could compete with him.
But the package he was carrying between his legs had drawn Eddie to look for longer than he should have. He’d been able to see his erect cock clearly through the soaked fabric. In fact, he’d seen it grow hard in front of his eyes. It had taken only seconds for Thomas’s shaft to fill with blood and curve upwards. He’d always guessed that Thomas was big—even when casually glancing at him when Thomas was dressed, Eddie had noticed it. But to see his thick long cock through the wet fabric had confirmed his guess. Eddie could easily guess what had caused Thomas’s arousal: he’d enjoyed the fact that Eddie had surprised him and stared at him.
For an instant, a flicker of pride sparked inside him. He had made Thomas hard. Damn it, he shouldn’t feel proud about that! He should feel repelled. No straight man should revel in the fact that a gay man was turned on by him!
Angry with himself, Eddie went into his ensuite bathroom and got ready for bed, trying to stamp out every thought about Thomas, and instead concentrate on other things. The earthquake.
He should check whether everybody else was okay. Depending on where the epicenter was, there could have been damage in other parts of town. After all, Thomas’s house stood on bedrock and therefore the shaking would have been less intense here than downtown.
Eddie sat down on his bed, wearing only his pajama bottoms, and reached for the phone, dialing quickly.
It took three rings before a female voice answered. “Eddie, something wrong?”
“Hey, Sis, sorry to disturb, but I wanted to make sure you guys are okay.”
“Huh? Why wouldn’t we be okay?”
“The earthquake. It was a big one. Was there any damage to your place?”
In the background he heard Amaury’s voice. “Earthquake?”
“Oh, that was an earthquake?” Nina chuckled.
A deep rumble came from Amaury, then a giggle from Nina.
Eddie rolled his eyes. Those two hadn’t even felt the earthquake because they’d been doing horizontal acrobatics. “Oh, you guys! Does he never give you a rest?”
“Who says she wants a rest?” Amaury’s voice came through the line loud and clear as if he’d taken the phone from Nina’s hands.
“Forget I called. Obviously, my concerns aren’t welcome.”
“Sleep well, Eddie,” Nina’s voice came from the distance. Then the line was disconnected.
Eddie put the receiver down. That would teach him not to call his sister during daytime hours when Amaury was home. Not that her possessive mate was always gone during the night either.
It appeared that Amaury spent more and more time at home with Nina, and less and less time at Scanguards. Weren’t those two getting sick of each other’s company?
Slipping under the covers, Eddie shook his head. He reached for the bedside lamp and flicked the switch. Darkness surrounded him as he sank back onto the pillow and closed his eyes. He tossed, seemingly forever, visions of Thomas’s half-naked body taunting him. He felt his cock harden and flicked an angry finger against the head to make it deflate. He would not masturbate to images of Thomas. He couldn’t allow this madness to escalate. It was bad enough that the kiss, and now seeing him practically naked, were making him question his sexuality; he wouldn’t top it off by actually giving into his urges. Instead he had to fight against those feelings in him.