“Fuck,” Ian groaned, and then he was coming.His scrotum pulled up, fighting Sam for possession of his nuts.His hand yanked on Sam’s hair and then he shot cum into it, and with Ian’s flavor on Sam’s tongue, it was too much to resist.Sam came in his jeans, moaning and fighting to keep his prize in his mouth right until the last second.
When he finally pulled off and collapsed on the floor, Ian fell against the wall, gasping for breath.Sam shut his eyes and did the same where he lay.
That was so worth debasing myself for.If he was going to let some guy use him, at least he got what he’d wanted out of it.
Except for the rapidly cooling wet patch on his jeans.He could have done without that.
Ian watched Sam sprawled on the floor, sucking in air, face wet and red, his light, wispy hair sticking to his forehead.His lips looked like someone had injected them with saline, a sight so hot Ian’s balls tingled.Andfuck—his balls.He’d never felt anything quite like that.
Looked like his kiddo had a taste for testicles.Ian slid down the wall, not bothering to pull up his pants, and—to his surprise—flopped on the floor on his side, facing Sam.“Jesus Christ you’re good at that,” he said, still panting.He watched Sam’s eyes fly open to stare at the ceiling.
“I am?”
“Hasn’t anyone ever told you before?”
“No.I mean, Marley told me I was okay at it—”
Sam flushed at Ian’s snort.“Sam, I’ve had my dick sucked by a lot of guys, and you’re in the top three.”Ian winced as soon as he heard himself say the words.Not the most complimentary way to put it.
But Sam flushed even deeper and turned his head away, like he was trying to hide his embarrassed smile.“Thank you,” he said in the softest, shyest voice imaginable, turning his head back to meet Ian’s eyes.
Ian wanted to touch Sam’s face, but his hand felt paralyzed.The fuck was that?He held still—held his breath, even—as Sam lost the pleased smile and his eyebrows pulled together, putting a little line between them.
Ian was still staring at it when Sam said, “Is that why you hooked up with me again?”
Hell.He had the feeling he was swimming in shark-infested waters.He didn’t know what to say, so he was just going to have to lay it on the line, like he would with any guy.“I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
Not what he’d meant to say.
Sam still had that wrinkle between his brows.If Ian was going to say something revealing, the least Sam could do was lose the worry line.Instead he looked annoyed.When he suddenly pulled his T-shirt up to wipe off his face, it was with jerky movements.Ian looked at his soft, concave stomach.
Sonot his type.
“I’m not your type, Ian.”
“What?Says who?”
“You,” Sam said.“The day we met.”
Aw, fuck it.Ian reached out for Sam, resting a hand on his dished-in abdomen.“Maybe my type has changed.”
“Why, ’cause your type can’t generally suck dick like I can?”He sounded sarcastic, but Ian could see the small smile Sam still fought.He liked being good at that.
“’Cause I got to know you, and I like you.”
“You barely know me.”
“I didn’t say I know you well.Just a little.A guy can change his mind, can’t he?Or can only women do that?”
“Oh my God,” Sam muttered.“He’s a misogynist, too.”
“That’s not misogyny, it’s sarcasm.”
Sam lost the brow wrinkle.Now Ian kind of missed it.“Nik said you’re some kind of public administrator.”
“I’m the Interagency Disaster Relief Coordination Director for the State Health Division.”Ian thought back to make sure he’d recited all the words that made up his stupid title.
“Oh,” Sam said.They stared at each other.“I’m still not your type.”
