Repeatedly.
Only, Blackhawk wasn’t done.
“Next picture is from behind. I think you’ll like that one just as much.”
Gene didn’t know if his heart, or libido, could take it. He wasn’t quite sure, but he was pretty sure the back view would be even worse—or better.
And he’d been right.
The front view was wild, and he’d not been ready for the back. When he saw it, he stared, eyes wide.
Then, he did the only Gene thing.
He flipped back and forth between the pictures, trying to see what view he liked best, and he couldn’t decide.
From the front, Ethan’s package was barely wrapped in thatSpeedo. In fact, he had an erection in the picture, soNOTHINGwas left to the imagination.
NOTHING.
Gene was honest.
“I’m going to die in Puerto Rico,” he said, again. “This is what will kill my ticker. You in thatSpeedois going to be what gives me the big one. Not the crazies. Not Javier Hughes—butthat flimsy, scant piece of white material covering the goods—MY GOODS,” he said, proprietarily.
And that thrilled Ethan.
When Gene got all masculine and bossy, it gave him butterflies in his belly.
Sue him.
He liked being this man’s other half.
Because he wasn’t sure which he liked best, again, he flipped the picture and saw the back view. For a few seconds, he admired the perfection.
Of.
Ethan.
You couldn’t see the material. It was flossing some truly spectacular cheeks, and he was a true admirer of the man’s flawless, sculpted ass.
You could bounce a half-dollar off of his buns, and thatSpeedoleftNOTHINGto the imagination. It was all there for the eye to admire.
Also, from behind, between Ethan’s legs, you could see a healthy peak of the back of his balls.
Yeah, Gene was horny.
No, he was beyond that, but he couldn’t think of the word for what he was feeling.
Ravenous?
Feral?
Addicted?
Whatever it was, he was absolutely feeling it.
Ethan kept his voice low.
“I thought it was only fair,” Ethan admitted. “You’re going to wear a banana hammock, so I got one of my own.”
