Immoral by Nicole Dykes

I need to get my shit together.

I know that. I’m fucking losing it.

After coffee, Ry headed downstairs to his home gym to work out, and I went for a swim, hoping to release some of my tension. This isn’t me.

Tense. Angry. Brooding. Jealous.

None of those things describe me.

But I feel like I can’t fucking breathe. Seeing that fucker grin and wink at Ryan at the coffee shop and Ry actually fucking flirting back? Yeah, that shit set me off.

Because maybe I’m not his fucking type. Maybe that bullshit about a bigger, more solid guy was all bullshit. Justin was thin with a hint of muscle but nowhere near my build. And not even close to Ryan’s.

And then, Justin’s little shot at me getting plain coffee. Like I’m just a boring straight guy? Fuck him.

I pull myself out of the pool and dry off, wrapping the towel around my shoulders and walk inside.

Waylon said to be sure. Well, I’m fucking sure. I don’t want Ryan fucking any baristas. Or managers. Or anyone else. That thought alone makes my stomach turn and my heart clench tightly in my chest.

But I need to be confident.

Something I’ve never had a hard time with before.

I walk into the gym and see Ry, stopping short at the entrance and in a fucking trance as I watch him lift weights, cultivating every single muscle on his body. He’s only wearing a pair of black shorts.

His skin is glistening with sweat, and I can see he has earbuds in so I take this moment to watch him. He lifts a weight, curling it and making every muscle in his arm and shoulders flex. His abs are fucking shredded and ripple with each movement.

I’ve been able to admit when a man is good-looking before, but none of them have ever made my mouth fucking water. Ry though, holy fuck. I’m stunned stupid by each bicep curl as he slowly lifts the heavy weight up and then down.

He’s beautiful.

Everything about him is fucking beautiful. And I have no idea what it means for my sexuality, but I don’t care. I know I’m attracted to him, and I’m not afraid to explore that.

“Ry.” He doesn’t hear me, but he places the weights down and then turns, startling when he sees me.

“Fuck.” He rips his earbuds out. “What are you doing in here?”

“What?” I stride into the gym. “I’m not allowed to use your fancy gym?”

He’s still in a pissy mood from earlier, which I expected. “I told you my house is your house.”

“Right.” I walk closer to him, ignoring his obvious apprehension at my close proximity. “You look good.”

I watch in awe as his throat flexes. He swallows tightly, and I can see the nerves there. “Grady . . .”

I hold up a hand, halting his words. “I was fucking jealous today.”

“Don’t—”

I cut him off. Confidence is sexy. “I was. I hated seeing that guy flirting openly with you. I fucking hated it. Hell, I think I was jealous of both Bennett and Waylon the other day.”

His blue eyes search mine, and he swallows again. “Bennett is straight.”

I grin. “You thought I was too.”

He looks at me, confused and gnawing on his pink bottom lip. “Thought? Jesus, you’re out now?”

I grin, bringing my hand up to cup the back of his sweaty neck. I don’t care. “Sure.”

“Grady,” he warns, shaking his head but not pulling away, “I can’t be an—”

I stop him, “An experiment. I know. I don’t experiment, though, and you fucking know that about me. I jump in. Headfirst. I fucking explore.”

He rolls his eyes at me. “Right. That’s the same thing.”

“No, it’s not,” I argue. “Exploring is knowing that I fucking want this.” I tug him closer to me, using my hold on his neck. “And diving into it. It’s an adventure, Ry.”

“One that ends. An experience you can say you had.”

He sounds bitter, and I don’t like it. “No. If you’ll remember, I was more than happy to go exploring both fucking times. You’re the one who ran away like a little bitch.”

He shoves me back, forcing me to release him. “Don’t call me a bitch.”

I quickly recover and close the gap between us. “Don’t be one.” I thread my fingers through his damp hair. “I don’t know where this is going or what it will lead to. That’s fucking life. I had no idea what signing with the label would lead to either. Or agreeing to sing at the World Series, but I fucking did it. I went on the adventure.”

He looks lost, and I fucking hate it. Pulling him closer to me, I drop the towel from around my neck to the floor and rest my other hand on his hip, relishing the cut, hard muscle there. “I’m sweaty.”

“I don’t fucking care.” I grin. “I’m not a chick.”

“Neither am I.” His lip curls up in a challenge, and I smile, seeing a hint of my best friend there. Not lost in bitterness. Definitely in his head but relaxing with me ever so slightly.

“I. Know.” I bring my lips to his, smashing them together in a heated, hungry kiss that, thank fuck, he returns. He doesn’t fight me or push me away.

Instead, his hands move to my ass, and he pulls me flush against him, and I feel his cock against mine through my trunks and his shorts, eliciting a hearty moan from me.

I want this. I want all of this with him.

“Grady . . .” He’s breathless as he speaks against my lips.

“Ry. I’m not going to hurt you.” My heart actually aches, thinking about when he left. Thinking about last night when he pushed me away. I want to ask him not to hurt me either, but I don’t know if he can promise that. I know Ry.

“Are you sure about this? I mean really sure?”

I smile against his lips, my hand roaming over his taut back, loving how the muscles ripple with each touch. Who knew I was into muscles? “Yes. I’m sure. I’m sure about you, Ry. The other shit we can figure out.”

“Like me having a dick?”

I laugh but thrust my hips forward, sliding my erection against his and moaning at the sensation. “I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.”

“What about everything else?” I’m sure he means our careers and that we’re both in the public eye. And my dad being a fucking bigot and a preacher. And so on. But I don’t care. I just use my hold on his hair to tug his head back and look into his eyes.

“There’s nothing else. Just you and me. That’s it, and that’s all that fucking matters.” His throat is pulled tight, and I lean down, licking the corded muscle of his neck and groaning from the salty taste of his skin. “You and me, Ry.”

“Bell and Bailey.” His voice is thick with lust, and I nod, nipping at his jaw before diving back into a heated kiss.

“Bailey and Bell.”

His tongue sweeps over mine as he takes control, owning my mouth. I’ve never been more certain about anything in my life. My hands slide down his back, pulling him tighter against me as I dip down into his shorts and grasp his tight ass.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he gasps into my mouth but doesn’t offer reprieve, kissing me again.

I smile into the kiss, wanting more. So much more, I push his shorts down without a second thought. I pull away from his lips as my forehead rests against his, and I look down, happy to see he wasn’t wearing any underwear. His thick cock juts out and sticks straight up in greeting. “Oh, fuck.”

“Regrets?”

“Hell, no.” My hand moves to his long, hard shaft as I run my thumb over the glistening tip.

“Yes,” he gasps as his hips buck forward, and I encircle his cock and kiss him again as he thrusts into my fist.

“Fuck, Grady.” I love how breathless he is, how out of control as he looks between us and growls, “Show me.”

My heart beats rapidly in my chest, my eyes not leaving his ripped abs as I release him momentarily and shove my trunks down.

“Fuck,” he breathes and reaches out, taking me in his hand. “Fuck, Grady.” His eyes lift to meet mine. “Is this really happening?”

I nod, not really sure what happens next but knowing I fucking want it. “Yes.” I cup the back of his head and kiss his lips. “Yes.” Kissing him deeper, I reach for his cock again, marveling in the difference.

I’ve only held my own cock before, but the feeling of his in my hand as I give him pleasure . . . That’s fucking indescribable.

And I’m lost in his touch as he jerks me slowly while we kiss. I groan loudly and jut my hips forward angrily when he unexpectedly releases me. “No.”

He merely smiles, bringing his hand up to his mouth and dragging his tongue over his hand, soaking it in spit before moving back to my dick. The slick feeling only adds to the euphoria as he whispers, “Nothing worse than a dry hand job.”

I chuckle and then do the same, but before I know it, he’s pushed my hand away, moving us so my back is against the wall and wrapping his hand around both of our solid lengths. “Holy. Fuck.”

He grins as he kisses me, and we both thrust into his large hand. “I know. It would be better with lube.”

“Next time.” I look down between us, marveling at our cocks moving together. I’m slightly longer, but he has more girth. Holy. Fuck.

“Oh God, Ry.” My balls draw up tight, and I know I’m close to blowing my load. A tingling feeling runs down my spine, and all I feel is pleasure.

“Come with me, Grady.”

That’s all I need to hear before ropes of cum spurt between us, his hand and our cocks are covered, and it seems to be all he needs before he throws his head back with a hoarse cry, his release joining mine.

“Holy fucking shit.” I look at him. “It’s never felt like that. Never.”

He grins. It’s weary, but it’s real. “Just wait.”

I pull him in for another mind-bending kiss. “I can’t fucking wait.”

And I can’t. Whatever this is, I’m all in.