He squeezed my thigh. “Okay. You do all the washroom stuff you’ve got to do. I’ll stoke the fire and open the bed.”
“We could open the bed together.” Because I didn’t want to be seen as anything less than competent.
“We could.” He rose and held out his hand to me.
I grasped it, and let him pull me up.
He pulled me right into his arms.
Then, without any apparent thought, wrapped his arms around my neck and pressed our lips together.
And, until that moment, I’d thought sex—in whatever form it took—was just a way to blow off steam. A little blow job so he might sleep better. A hand job so I felt a little less lonely.
No, not that. This was so much more.
I opened my mouth to welcome his tongue inside.
He gripped my cheeks as he explored the recesses of my mouth with that very talented tongue.He downplayed his experience…or he’s a fast learner.
I wrapped my arms around him, lowered my hands to his ass, and squeezed—pressing him against me. Our erect cocks brushed. My body tightened. I reached for the hem of his sweater.
He stilled my hands. “Bed first. I’m practical that way.”
I chuckled. “That’s fair.”
We stepped back and pulled the sofa bed out, then set about organizing the sheets, blankets, and quilt. “Okay, I’ll be back soon.” I pumped some water into the bucket and headed for the bathroom. Within ten minutes we were both under the blankets with our teeth brush.
Oh, and totally naked.
I pulled him close. Just before our lips touched, I whispered, “This is going to be so much fun.”
Then I kissed him.
CHAPTER 8
Marco
Kellen hadhis hands all over me. Everywhere. All at once. In all the perfect ways. Ways I’d imagined. Ways I’d hoped. Ways that turned me the fuck on.
I’d sort of figured he was gay—he kept checking out my ass when he thought I wasn’t looking. Also, though, he had a sweetness about him. Even while he’d scorched the pot—because really, how did someone dothat? Even then, he kept his cool. Worried about me. What I’d think of him. What I’d say that might hurt him. For all his bravado, he was actually a really sensitive guy.
And his father was an even bigger asshole than I’d given the guy credit for. I knew about the polluted waterway—his company had been given a slap-on-the-wrist fine that amounted to less than a rounding error with his multibillion-dollar company. I also knew he was heavily invested in the oil fields of Alberta—belching out their toxic gases as they extracted natural gas.
Frankly, I’d been shocked to find this place didn’t have a gas line. Would’ve been a huge sum of money to bring it in from the road—or wherever the nearest pipeline was—but Mike Parsons could fucking afford it.
Had I, once or twice in the last twenty-four hours, wished for gas and electricity? Yes. If I had them, would Kellen’s fingers be encircling my cock?
Probably not.
I gasped a breath. “Keep that up and it’ll be over sooner than either of us would like.”
“You’re right.” Kellen winked. Then slowly sank beneath the blankets.
I lay on my back. As much as I was expecting his mouth around my cock, it still came as a bit of a surprise. I gasped as he swallowed me down.Oh God, he doesn’t have a gag reflex.
He pulled back a bit—likely so he could breathe—and then he began a concerted effort to make me come. I couldn’t find another word for it. He sucked, he licked, he tongued my slit, he took my balls in his hands— “Yes, Kellen. That.”
I was too hot and yet the idea of throwing off the blankets held little appeal as my nose was already chilled.
