The Billionaire Bad Boys Club(10)
Author: Emma Holly

“Please,” Trey said. The pair traded smiles, not as flirtatious as before but like they approved of each other and were enjoying it.

Zane bit his tongue against interrupting their mutual admiration society. If Trey wanted to make time with this girl, that wasn’t his concern. Because of who they were sexually, they couldn’t supply each other with everything they craved. Given a choice, neither would give up women as bed partners.

“I’ll take care of it,” Rebecca said, tapping her pencil crisply against her pad.

Maybe consciously or maybe not, as she walked off, Trey turned to watch her butt twitch in her plain black trousers. When she’d disappeared past a couple tables, he returned his gaze to Zane.

“I’ll think about your offer. I expect you could use an answer soon.”

“Soon would be good,” Zane conceded, “but take the time you need.”

Privately, he’d expected—hoped?—Trey would jump at the opportunity. Did his delay mean he was searching for a way to refuse? Would Zane feel half as excited about his dream if his best friend weren’t living it with him?

Uncomfortable with his doubts, he squirmed like a five-year-old through dinner, which—despite being tasty—couldn’t hold his attention. Trey mm’ed and savored per usual. The waitress and he didn’t share any more moments. Zane couldn’t decide if he felt relieved or guilty.

Since Zane was paying, Trey left the tip. Zane believed in being generous, but the pair of hundred dollar bills Trey pulled from his wallet raised even his eyebrows.

“The service was good,” Trey said as he stood. “Plus, she seemed like she could use it.”

His gaze evaded Zane’s, not a reassuring development. Just how sparked by this girl was he?

“Okay,” Zane said, wondering if he should say more. In the end, he decided no comment was safer. They walked out onto the street where the sun had set and the temperature was cooling. The commercial area was popular. Shoppers and diners came and went. Zane paused on the sidewalk, squinting through the streetlights to see if he could spot stars. They were blurry, but he found a transparent three-quarter moon.

Please say yes, he thought silently to his friend.

Trey stepped closer to him, the back of his hand brushing the back of Zane’s. Traffic rolled by, some of the cars recognizably driven by students. In a what-the-hell reaction, Zane wove their fingers together.

Trey bumped his shoulder companionably.

“I want to do it,” he said. “The thing is, I’m sure I haven’t saved as much money to invest as you.”

Zane’s heart jumped inside his chest. “Your brain is worth more than mine.”

“True,” Trey agreed.

Zane turned to him, wanting to kiss his sly smirk so badly he hurt.

“Careful,” Trey teased, the smile deepening. “You look like you’re on the verge of a PDA.”

Zane growled deep within his belly, beginning to tug Trey urgently toward their parking spot. He hadn’t realized he was getting hard while it happened, but now his c**k pounded. Trey laughed, guessing exactly where the night was going.

Zane was so eager it took two tries to unlock the silver convertible.

“I can drive,” Trey offered, not hiding his amusement.

“I’m faster,” Zane refused.

Trey didn’t wait for Zane to get through the next intersection before he reached past the armrest and manhandled his erection.

“Crap.” Zane’s foot slipped off the gas pedal, causing the car to jerk. Because he was an excellent driver, he recovered without an accident. When Trey curled his fingers tighter and massaged, he was prepared for the knee-weakening wash of bliss.

“Just trying to help,” Trey purred, rippling his hold again. “You looked like you were having trouble . . . containing your excitement.”

“When we get home,” Zane warned, “I’m going to f**k you so hard your head will spin.”

This was no dissuader for his roommate. Trey squirmed closer on the seat, leaning toward Zane until his lips brushed his ear warmly. “Promise I won’t be able to walk straight?”

“Yes,” Zane confirmed through clenched teeth.

He drove carefully enough not to kill them. Trey’s hand never left his crotch—squeezing, kneading, dragging all ten fingernails over the hardened ridge. Only when Zane’s breath hissed inward did Trey’s technique gentle. He rubbed Zane’s erection gently with the heel of his palm. A quick check of Trey’s lap told Zane he was sporting a big hump too.

Sweat broke out on Zane’s forehead.

“I could suck you off while you’re driving,” Trey whispered in Zane’s ear. “I could just lean over and unzip you with my teeth.”

Zane’s hard-on throbbed as if a very pleasurable knife had stabbed it. They were two blocks from the old triplex in which they lived.

“If you make me shoot before we get behind closed doors, I’m f**king going to kill you.”

Trey was a master at knowing when to back off. Smiling like the Cheshire cat, he released Zane’s tormented dick and lounged against his door.

“I have my own surprise for you.” He slid one hand down the bulge in his smooth tan pants. His fingers were together, his palm absolutely flat. The ridge he pushed against barely budged.

“I’ve seen your prick before,” Zane said even as his mouth watered.

Trey rubbed his hand down and up again. “You haven’t seen my prick like it is tonight. Trust me, you’re going to beg to give me a blow job.”

Zane shuddered as Trey’s tongue swept around his lower lip. Dragging his attention back to the street, he gripped the steering wheel white-knuckled. Their neighborhood in Cambridge was residential, many of the old three-story houses providing rentals for students. Short on driveways, parallel parking was the norm. Miraculously, Zane got the Mercedes into its spot with one try.

Continuing to look at Trey seemed like a bad idea. As he jogged up the steps of the old house’s wooden porch, he felt as if a foot-long hammer were wedged in his underwear.

“Get the lead out,” he called to Trey, who was strolling more leisurely behind him.

Still on the middle of their front walk, in full view of any neighbors who might be peeking out their windows, Trey reached into his trousers to adjust his boner.

The wave of heat that rushed to Zane’s core seared him.

He fumbled over opening the deadbolt just as he had the car. Luckily, he and Trey rented the first floor. They didn’t have any more stairs to run up or doors to unlock.