He’s sporting
wood, he knows it, he knowsWesleyknows it because the kid’s gaze travels down from
his face to find the tight wad crammed into the front of his jeans.
Jason doesn’t even try to hide it. He feels like someone took his
hard dick, bent it in half, and forced it into pants a size too
small for him. The pain in his lower abdomen stabs in time with the
throb in his balls, the ache in his dick. He almost imagines his
groin pulsing with each heartbeat.
If they were alone in the waiting
room—no mother with her kids, no elderly couple—he’d let his
fingers brush across his crotch while Wesley watched him press into
the pounding flesh. It’s one of the things he does at parties when
he’s horny as hell and sees a cute guy checking him out. Trace the
outline of his cock with his thumb like he’s pretending that hand
isn’t his. It never is for long.
But there are
others here so he settles for Wesley’s frown. The kid is easy to