Authors: Karen Stivali
5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886 USA
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of author imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Moments in Time
© 2015 Karen Stivali.
© 2015 Anna Sikorska.
Cover content is for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted on the cover is a model.
All rights reserved. This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of international copyright law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines, and/or imprisonment. Any eBook format cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press, 5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886, USA, or http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/.
Digital ISBN: 978-1-63477-102-3
Library of Congress Control Number: 2014920196
First Edition May 2015
Printed in the United States of America
This paper meets the requirements of
ANSI/NISO Z39.48-1992 (Permanence of Paper).
Moment of Impact
Moment of Truth
Moment of Clarity
This book is dedicated to Karen Booth, my awesome critique partner,
for always supporting me and my ideas,
even when I think they’re crazy.
Many thanks to KD Wood for encouraging me to follow my heart, to Mandy Pennington, Kira Decker, and Amanda Usen for being beta readers extraordinaire, to Kim Pearson for giving me her expert opinion and an enthusiastic thumbs-up, to Saritza Hernandez for loving Collin and Tanner and believing in me, to Sue Adams for being a joy to work with and making
my words shine, and to Elizabeth North and her amazing staff at
Dreamspinner Press for giving me the opportunity to share this story with the world.
Special thanks to Damon Suede for giving me the best possible advice at the precise moment I needed to hear it.
T mean to see Tanner D’Amico’s cock. I really didn’t. When I heard his key in the door, I assumed he’d be coming in with Wendy. She stayed over Monday nights because Tuesday mornings she had class in the building right next to our dorm. That meant every Monday I’d pretend to be asleep and try not to hear them fucking. Not that that ever worked. The more he’d whisper to her that she should be quiet, the more noise she’d make. Which probably wouldn’t have bothered me if it didn’t make me so fucking jealous.
As soon as the keys jangled in the hallway, I flipped off the bedside lamp and sprawled on the bed. Since it was earlier than usual, I wasn’t under the covers yet, and in my haste I wound up on my stomach, facing Tanner’s half of the room. That was never the plan. On my side, turned toward the wall, was the optimum position—the easiest for closing my eyes, focusing on something random, and trying to forget what I was hearing.
Light from the hall filled the room for a few seconds, then faded back to semidarkness. No room that faced the courtyard was ever completely dark at night. I kept my eyes shut and wondered if I could get away with rolling over without giving away that I was still awake.
Tanner left the lights off. His backpack thudded onto the carpet. His shoes knocked into the dresser when he kicked them off. Clothing rustled, and his back cracked like it always did when he took off his shirt. The sound of his zipper lowering made the base of my cock tingle. He flopped onto his bed with enough force, the springs moaned in protest. I closed my eyes tighter and thought about my Econ exam. That was enough to kill any form of boner. Usually.
This time it worked until I realized I hadn’t heard a single sound from Wendy and made the mistake of opening my eyes.
Wendy was nowhere in sight. But there it was. His cock. Pointing at the ceiling like a goddamn arrow. At first I thought it was wishful thinking. In the seven months we’d been roommates, I’d had more fantasies about Tanner’s cock than I could count, many of which started with him flat on his back and his dick straight in the air. Just like this. My pulse rate skyrocketed. My mouth went dry. I must have blinked a dozen times, thinking if I opened my eyes one more time, the image would be gone, replaced by the unwanted sight of Wendy on top of him. But this time he was alone, and no matter how much I blinked, nothing changed.
Until he started to move.
Mother of God.
I knew I shouldn’t watch. Somehow it felt like an even bigger invasion of privacy to be looking at him alone than it had been to listen to him in bed with Wendy.
Econ. Econ. Econ. Jesus, he’s touching himself.
I couldn’t have gotten harder any faster if his hand had been stroking my cock instead of his own. Only it wasn’t
exactly. I’d always imagined what he’d look like with his fist wrapped around himself, but that wasn’t what he was doing. His hand was open, his fingertips gliding up and down the underside in total silence. Any blood left in the part of my brain that told me to look away headed straight to my groin. My stomach contracted as I pressed into the mattress, desperate to feel any kind of friction.
Tanner shifted, rustling the covers.
Please don’t get under the blankets.
I swallowed hard, hoping he couldn’t hear the boulder-sized lump moving around in my throat. He ran a hand through his hair, then slowly trailed it down to his shoulder, across his collarbone, over his chest. I took inventory as he went, wishing the glow from the streetlights would make the room a little brighter. Tanner flicked a nipple back and forth, and my own rasped against my T-shirt with every breath I took.
My dick was now poking out past the waistband of my shorts, leaving both the comforter and my stomach slick. Moving terrified me, but I couldn’t help it. I raised and lowered my hips the tiniest bit and nearly choked on the sigh I couldn’t let out.
By the time his hand made it back to his cock, mine was ready to explode. Every muscle in my lower body was tense, primed, begging for release.
Don’t come. You can’t come. He’ll hear you. There’s no way you can be quiet enough that he won’t hear you.
Not looking seemed like the best idea. I closed my eyes. Tight. So tight, I saw colors instead of darkness. Swirls of blues and purples danced behind my eyelids, and I watched each one, hoping for distraction.
Then he moaned. It wasn’t loud or anything. Just a small gasp, really. Just the most erotic fucking sound I’d ever heard. My cock heard it too and throbbed in silent reply. At least I think it was silent. My pulse hammered in so many places, it wouldn’t have surprised me if Tanner had sat up in bed and told me to quiet the fuck down. He seemed too busy to notice. The second I opened my eyes, my gaze zoomed straight back to his cock. He’d started stroking. Two fingers or maybe three, still massaging the underside but focusing on the sweet spot just below the head. When I moved, that was the same spot that slid back and forth against my now wet comforter. I’d have given anything to trade the sensation of damp cotton-poly blend for the touch of his fingertips.
His hips pitched, and his thigh flexed out to the side.
Shit. He’s getting close.
My eyes raked over him. His neck arched as his head pressed back, his dark hair splayed across the pale pillowcase. The ridges of his tanned abs bunched as his hand moved faster. The lack of sound amazed me. Had he done this before, in complete silence, with me right there? Had I simply missed it? I’d have watched every night if I’d known it was an option.
Heat filled my face.
Fucking voyeur. He doesn’t want you watching. He thinks you’re asleep.
Shame flooded through me, making my stomach roll over. Didn’t stop me from watching. Those fingers—up and down, up and down, swooping across the head every third stroke. He sucked in a soft breath.
This is it. Oh Jesus. He’s gonna come
My balls pulled up so tight they practically disappeared into my body. I squeezed my legs together, trying to hold still. I trembled with the need to move, to feel something against the impossible hardness that consumed my thoughts.
Tanner’s hips jerked up off the mattress, his head rose off the pillow, and he finally fisted his cock, jacking hard and fast. With three final strokes that seemed like the most important movements I’d ever witnessed, he came. I didn’t see the first blast, but I heard it
against the poster hanging behind his bed.
. The next two splattered across his chest. He kept pumping, and the white streaks continued to coat him. Four. Five. Six.
My hips were moving of their own accord, rubbing my dick against the bedsheets.
Shit. I need to stop, or I’ll come. I’ll come and cry out, and he’ll know.
I clenched the blanket so hard my hands ached, trying to get some semblance of control, but I still couldn’t force myself to look away from Tanner. Perfect. Beautiful. Peaceful. Still except for the gentle rise and fall of his chest. I wondered if maybe he’d fallen asleep.