Sometime later, I say into his pillow, “I feel your d**k against my ass.”
As if I goosed him, Joey sits up and scrambles to the head of the bed. “Way to ruin the mood, Brian,” he mutters, hugging the blankets around his naked chest.
“If I’m not supposed to think of you like I think of other guys,” I want to know, rolling over, “why were you sporting wood when you were lying on top of me?”
The blankets close around him tighter and he doesn’t quite meet my gaze. “It’s a medical condition.”
“Really?” Sitting up at the opposite end of his bed, I cross my legs Indian-style and reach for my blankets where they’ve fallen to the floor. “You’re always hard in the morning?”
“For the most part, yeah.”
I wrap the blankets around my body the same way he wears his and hunker down into their linger
