Cash McCoy rearranged the monstrous bulge in his pants and tried to focus on the Chargers game blaring out of the flat screen. He’d cranked the volume full blast, but it still couldn’t drown out the sounds of sex drifting from Matt O’Connor’s bedroom. O’Connor and Rhodes had crazy stamina, and from the moans that kept slicing the air, it sounded like Matt’s girlfriend Savannah was getting worked over real nice.
Sighing, Cash shifted on the couch again. He didn’t feel an ounce of guilt over being out here in the living room, hard as a rock. Maybe if Savannah didn’t broadcast her orgasms at top volume, he could actually concentrate on the damn football game. As it was, he was distracted as hell, and kinda wondering if he ought to knock on the door and ask to join in.
Naah. Probably inappropriate.
Despite his two deployments with the team, Cash was still considered the rookie. The other SEALs had known each other for years before he’d come on board, and even though he’d technically been living with Matt for a year now, they’d been out of the country for half that time and hadn’t moved beyond the let’s-have-a-beer-and-talk-sports stage. It’d probably take a while before his new roomie felt comfortable asking Cash to participate in any three-ways, though how Matt could possibly share the luscious Savannah with anyone else boggled the mind. But apparently the sexy blonde was into it, and God knew O’Connor was up for anything when it came to sex.
Cash stifled a groan—there was already too much groaning going on in this apartment.
Damn it. He was so fucking horny after listening to his roommate’s sex show for the past two hours. He supposed he could retreat to his bedroom and jack off, but he’d rather have someone else’s hand jacking his cock tonight.
Last time he’d gotten laid was…jeez, had it really been before the deployment to Afghanistan? While some guys managed to score a quick hookup overseas, Cash had a strict rule about not fucking around on the job, even if given a rare night off. His head was always on the mission, the objective, and sex didn’t make a blip on his radar when he was out in the field.
But damn, six months was too long to go without sex. He’d been hoping to remedy that bleak statistic when he got home, but his parents had decided to spring a spontaneous visit on him the moment he was stateside, so he’d spent the past fourteen days doing the tourist bullshit with the folks. Which upped his celibacy statistic to six months and two weeks.
Fortunately, his parents had flown back to Phoenix last night. Cash had decided to indulge in a day of rest before satisfying his sexual appetite, but now, as Savannah let out another throaty moan, he was ready to gorge himself.
Shutting off the TV, he stood up, crossed the open-concept room and headed for the kitchen where he’d left his cell phone. He scrolled through his contact list, shot a quick text to a few of his teammates, then leaned against the granite counter as he awaited a reply.
Just as an answering message buzzed in, Matt’s bedroom door swung open and Aidan Rhodes stumbled out, his brown hair tousled, cheeks flushed, and dark eyes hazy with lingering post-orgasmic bliss.
“What’s up, McCoy?” Aidan called when he caught sight of him.
Cash grinned. “Nothing much. You look tired, Rhodes. The dynamic duo wear you out?”
Groaning, Aidan buttoned the blue shirt he wore over his black wife beater. “Yep. Those two are sex maniacs.”
Cash’s phone beeped again, drawing his gaze down to the screen.