Yes, Masters (Book 2 of Desire's Den)

Chapter 20 - Callan

I cursed as I dropped the barbell after finishing my last set. My legs were shaking from the squats, but I was far from done. As soon as I was done with my legs, I focused on my arms instead. I'd already been here for well over an hour, possibly two, but it wasn't enough.

I found working out to be one of the few ways I could keep myself distracted enough to avoid  the strong urge to pick up my car keys and hunt Emma down. It had only been a few days, and already I was hanging by a thin fucking thread. 

How can a woman turn three grown-ass men into obsessive, heartsick boys? She was like a siren; after hearing her addictive song, the absence of it made it almost painful to bear. The ache for her grew, and there was nothing to do but hope that she would one day give us relief from it.

Fuck, if me from a year ago could've listened to my thoughts, he'd wondered if I needed hospitalization. Maybe I did. I didn't know what falling in love with someone was supposed to feel like. Was it supposed to take over your entire fucking being and make you into a blubbering fool? Make you unable to think of anything but her? Make you dream of her when you fall asleep just to see her face? If so, love was a fucked-up drug, but one I couldn't turn down.

Music blared from the speakers; the bass synchronized to my own heartbeats. It drowned out almost everything except the part of my subconsciousness that always whispered after Emma. God damn it, I really had become a lovesick idiot. But from the looks I'd seen of Mateo and Gideon, I wasn't the only one.

Fucking Gideon. Jealously still crawled beneath my skin at the thought of him and Emma together this Saturday. He'd told us what had happened with no small dose of smugness. I'd like to make him choke on his fucking smug shit. But no matter how jealous I was, I also took it as a good sign; she wasn't entirely over us if she was that affected by his presence. Still, I wish it would've been me, and I was sure Mateo thought the same about himself.

Grabbing a pair of dumbbells, I started on my first set. With each rep I did, I felt some of the jealousy retract its claws from my chest. By my third set, I breathed easily again. In an arrangement like the one I had with my friends and Emma, envy was pure poison, and I would not let it control me.

I trained until I could hardly see past the sweat stinging my eyes, and only then did I clean up after myself and hit the showers. The thought of Emma and Gideon still hadn't left me, but instead of the initial envy I'd felt, I couldn't help but envision the scene. Gideon wasn't very forthcoming, and he definitely didn't go into details, but my brain was great at working around the unspoken detailing of Saturday night.

My cock hardened as I envisioned Emma in Gideon's strong hold. He would've let her go if she'd truly wanted him to, but she hadn't. I could picture the heat in her eyes, even as she tried to deny her desires. 

She was hot when she tried to fight it; her body softened while her mind hadn't let go completely. She'd been like that the first night I had touched her in the viewing room. Mateo had slipped his hand up her soft, smooth thighs, and her eyes showed signs of her internal struggles against what she might've considered inappropriate; should she let him touch her? Was it okay to let her desires take charge? Could she accept doing this with two other men in the same room? But while she might've struggled, her body had already decided to let her pretty little thighs spread so nicely for him. 

What truly made me burn with lust was when she'd sunk into submission—embraced it. That night, when she'd done it, I couldn't help but slide my own hand up her thigh. I'd kept a close eye on her and studied her expression in case she wasn't into it.

With a tight grip on my swollen dick, I began stroking myself to the image of our girl. It was the only way I could get myself off, by thinking of her. I envisioned all the nights I'd been with her, fucking her, eating her out; hell, even the image of me cuddling her was enough.