My Mom Took In A Stray - Just A Distraction.

Everyone is 18+

I sank into my desk chair, the phantom heat of the showers clinging to my skin, mixed with the warm, evening summer air coming through the window. I liked the heat, even though my mom hated me opening the windows with the aircon on. 
Tugged the towel around my neck tighter and fired up Lightroom.

The shots from today loaded in a slow, satisfying scroll.
Fast breaks, glancing elbows, sneakers bouncing off a polished wood.
The kind of organized chaos that still made me feel alive, even if I wasn’t part of it anymore.

Then it hit me.
Buried between the candids and action shots,
a shot I didn’t even remember taking.

Jax.
Laughing.

Not the quiet smirk he gave me.
Not the tight, polite smile he wore when Sierra teased him at breakfast.

**Real.**
**Full tilt.**
Head tipped back, curls wild and damp, freckles bright against flushed cheeks.
Dimples cutting deep like he didn’t even know he had them.

I just stared at it.

Made something stir inside me.
I wanted more of that softness.
Wanted to be the reason he wore it.

For a second, it rattled me. Knocked me off center, confused the hell out of me.
I caught myself reaching for it like it belonged to me.

I pulled it back fast. Collected my thoughts. Clicked past the picture like it hadn’t touched anything that mattered. Instead, I thumbed open my texts. Tess lit up the screen. Safe, easy, flirty without feeling complicated.
We’d been hooking up on and off for a while now. Whenever we were both home and unattached. Hot. Sharp. Not the type to play games. Confident and stubborn.
The kind of challenge I liked — breaking her down, making her mine, getting full control as she surrenders to me.

**Me:**
you up?

The typing bubble popped up almost instantly.

**Tess:**
Always for you, pretty boy.
What are you wearing?

I grinned, stretching my legs out long in front of me.

**Me:**
Not much. Fresh out the shower. Thinking about you.

The response came with a picture:
Tess, messy hair, bare shoulders, sucking her bottom lip between her teeth.

My dick twitched immediately.

I shoved the laptop aside, leaned back against the headboard, and palmed myself through my shorts. Already half-hard. Already hungry.

More texts buzzed in.

**Tess:**
Wish I was there.
Wish it was my mouth instead of your hand.

I slid my shorts down, spit in my hand, and wrapped my fist around myself.
I’ve got the type of cock that adds to my confidence. Thick, cut, with a slight curve toward my defined abs. About seven and a half inches, and yeah — thick enough to be proud as hell of it.

Started slow.
Lazy, steady pulls.
The head flushed dark, precum already leaking out.

Tess sent another picture —
lower this time, hand tucked between her thighs, panties pulled aside.

I hissed through my teeth and picked up the pace, wrist flicking a little rougher now.

Thought about her mouth.
Thought about her hands.
Thought about how good it’d feel to bury myself deep and make her beg.

A sharp knock somewhere inside my head, pounding against the fantasy.

Not Tess.
Not her voice.

**Jax.**

That flicker of laughter.
Those goddamn dimples.

It punched the breath out of me harder than the orgasm did.
Made my hips stutter.
Made my hand clench so tight around cock.

I finished with a low grunt, biting down hard on the inside of my cheek to kill the sound.

Sat there, breathing hard.
Sweaty.
Unsettled.

The house creaked. Floorboards shifting somewhere outside my door. Soft. Close. I froze. Head snapping toward the sound.

Nothing.
Just the house settling.
Or maybe not.

Didn’t matter.

I wiped my hand absently on the towel, closed out of Lightroom without saving the edits, and shoved the mess of feelings down where they belonged.

**Buried.**
**Forgotten.**

Tomorrow was another day.
And Jax Scott was just a kid sleeping next door.

Nothing more than a distraction because I was looking at his photo.