I unbuttoned his jeans and started to slip them down. Parker propped his feet flat on the bed and lifted his hips to help me. I got them as far as his knees before I was laughing again.
“You have Bob Ross’s face on your underwear,” I stated. “Why have I never seen these?”
“Oh.” Parker grinned up at me. “I got a new package from Ethan yesterday.Everyone needs a happy little friend, Jamie.”
“So I see.” I stared down at the underwear, reading the text, then lifted my gaze to his. “I can’t lie, babe. Bob Ross has never turned me on more than he is right now.”
Parker snorted.
“I feel like I need a happy little friend.” I skimmed my fingers over the silky fabric of the boxers, then leaned down so I could mouth his growing erection through the material.
“Take them off,” Parker demanded. “You’re basically Frenching Bob Ross right now, Jamie. It’s incrediblynothot.”
“You think? Because my little friend seems to be enjoying himself immensely.” I licked him through the slit of the boxers and he shuddered.
“If you thinkmy little friendis gonna become a thing…” he began. But I pulled the waistband down so I could suck his tip into my mouth, and his threat ended with a groan.
“My little friend likes his name,” I informed him. “You don’t get a say.”
“Your friend isn’t little,” he said, both breathless and cranky.
“Awww, is that the problem? You think I’m disparaging his size? Never happen. He’s gonna feel fucking amazing in my ass.” I licked up the underside of his cock once, braced a fist around his root, and relaxed the muscles of my throat so I could swallow him down. He was leaking already—salty and musky and sweet. Perfect.
“If you want him anywhere near your ass, you’d better stop,” Parker warned, pulling at my hair a few minutes later. “I’m serious, Jamie, you’ve gotta—”
I let go with a pop, but his hands in my hair didn’t loosen until I moved up his body to kiss him. It was wet and sloppy and tasted exactly like him.
“It’s my turn,” he said, pushing me to my back beside him. “That’s what I want.”
I nodded once, and he kicked his pants, socks, and boxers the rest of the way off without getting up. He grinned at me as he threw them in the air like confetti to land on the far side of the bed, near his shoes.
I snickered, and Parker laughed out loud.
“Also my fault?” I demanded.
“So… totally…completelyyour fault.” He ran his palm over my beard and then down to grab the belt loop of my jeans and pull me toward him. “I want you so much, Jamie. It makes me crazy.”
I was familiar with that feeling.
But when he kissed me, it wasn’t crazed or frantic, it was slow. A nudge of his nose against mine, a brush of our lips, the slide of his fingers across my lower back, just flirting with my waistband. It was like when we were kids, when all those little touches were new and thrilling and forbidden. Like we had all the time in the world and nothing would ever come between us.
Jamie and Parker.
Parker and Jamie.
Forever and ever, amen.
I pulled him so he was lying mostly on top of me and tilted his head to the side so I could kiss his neck, loving the way he groaned and arched against me.
I’d never been a musician, but I figured making love was a lot like music. The notes were familiar, practiced, but every time you played them, you could find new meaning. Deeper meaning.
AndJesus. Look who was calling itmaking loveall of a sudden. But it didn’t feel hokey when it described what was happening between me and Parker. It felt… accurate.
Parker pushed me back with a moan and a narrow-eyed glare. “You know what that does to me.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. My thumb stroked over his hipbone, just inches from his jutting erection. “And I bet I’m the only one who does. Aren’t I?”
Parker narrowed his eyes but didn’t answer, which was as good as confirmation. He slid off the bed and pulled open the drawer with enough force that both the drawer and its contents fell onto the ground.
