“There you are,” he says, tossing his phone aside. “Was starting to think you’d finally come to your senses and escaped.”
“Never.” I’m already pulling off my hoodie, my shirt, and fumbling with my belt. “I had to see Ryan. Apologize for being a terrible friend.”
“And?” Drew sits up, watching me strip with obvious interest.
“And he’s fine. More than fine. I also told him everything about the fake dating.” My jeans hit the floor, and I step out of them, leaving me in my boxers. “Oh, and he’s been using his newfound solitude to jerk off to thoughts of Oliver in a thong.”
Drew laughs. “Can’t blame him. Oliver worked that thong like he was auditioning forMagic Mike.”
“Don’t remind me.” I crawl onto the bed, straddling his thighs. “I only had eyes for you that night.”
“Sap,” he accuses, but his hands are already on my hips, thumbs stroking the sensitive skin.
I lean down to kiss him, slow and deep. When I pull back, his pupils are blown wide. “So. About that thing you mentioned a couple of weeks ago.”
His breath hitches. “Yeah?”
“Still want me to fuck you?”
“God, yes.” He’s already shifting, turning over onto his hands and knees, and pulling off his underwear. “Been thinking about it nonstop. Want to feel you inside me, Jacky. Want you to show me what you’ve learned.”
My cock throbs at the sight of him—Drew Larney on all fours, that perfect big ass in the air, waiting for me. I’ve dreamed about this, jerked off to the fantasy more times than I can count, but the reality is so much better.
“Lube?” I manage to ask, my hands already reaching for him.
“Nightstand. And I already…” He trails off, blushing. “I prepped. In the shower. While you were gone.”
The image of Drew fingering himself open in the shower, thinking about me fucking him, nearly makes me come right then. I scramble for the nightstand, grabbing the lube with shaking hands.
“Fuck, Drew.” I settle behind him, running my hands over his ass. The muscle is firm under my palms, and when I spread him open, he’s already pink and wet. “You’re perfect. So fucking perfect.”
He pushes back against my hands, shameless and eager. “Come on, Jacky. Show me what those big quarterback hands can do.”
I slick up my fingers and press one inside, groaning at how easily he takes it. He’s tight but relaxed, and when I add a second finger, he moans into the pillow.
“More,” he demands. “I can take it.”
I work him open carefully, remembering everything he’s taught me. The angle that makes him gasp, the rhythm that has him pushing back for more. By the time I’ve got three fingers inside him, he’s a babbling mess, and his cock is dripping onto the sheets.
“Please,” he begs, and hearing Drew Larney beg is better than any drug. “Jackson, please. I need your cock.”
I pull my fingers out, put on a condom, and slick myself up, trying to remember how to breathe. This is happening. I’m about to fuck Drew Larney.
“Ready?” I ask, lining myself up.
“Born ready,” he says, and despite everything, I laugh.
“Such a dork.” I push forward slowly, watching the head of my cock disappear inside him. The tight heat is overwhelming, and I have to stop, gripping his hips hard enough to bruise.
“Fuck,” Drew gasps. “You’re bigger than I thought. Give me a second.”
I lean over him, pressing kisses to his spine. “Take all the time you need. We’ve got nowhere to be.”
Slowly, I work myself inside. Drew’s making these little noises of pain and pleasure, and each one goes straight to my cock. When I’m all the way in, we’re both panting.
“Okay?” I ask, running soothing hands down his sides.
“More than okay.” He clenches around me experimentally, and I see stars. “You can move.”
