“I can be objective,” Michael sing-songed at me. “Put your moon eyes away and get your game face on. This is serious.”
I couldn’t help a crooked smile. He was right. Of course he was right. This was serious. Very serious. Very seriously adorable young men who I very much hoped were also excellent curlers. Otherwise, I was going to be one sad son-of-a-bitch after tonight.
CHAPTER 2
EVAN
Perry’s curlsexploded from his toque as he dragged it from his head and tossed it onto the table inside the door to our apartment.
My fingers twitched with the desire to run them through the tangle, maybe straighten it, maybe make it worse.
“Evan Baily, Evan Baily, Evan Baily.”
He was flipping through the mail we’d stopped for on the way up from the lobby. Of course they all had my name because the lease, and everything else, was all in my name. I called this place ours, but really, it had been mine before it became ours.
“Leave those,” I said, tugging them out of his grip and tossing them after his hat. “I’m starving, and you made certain promises.”
He grinned at me as he peeled out of his coat, dropped it on the chair by the door, and kicked off his sodden sneakers. “Promises predicated on a win tonight, remember?”
“We didn’t lose.”
“Just because you bought the drinks for the other team doesn’t mean we won, babe.”
“Clearly I didn’t buy you enough drinks,” I grumbled. “Or that’s all you’d remember.”
Perry laughed, which made me giddy. The sound was one part puddle-jumping, one part dancing in the rain, and one part smoky whisky hot. Unable to help myself, I took his face in my hands and planted a searing kiss on his mouth.
In seconds, he’d not just kissed me back, but locked one strong hand behind my head and shoved the other one up under my coat, sweater, and shirt to flatten it against my chest and push me into the wall.
I moaned as he probed his tongue into my mouth and pressed his entire body against mine, grinding his hips and owning me completely. God, I fucking loved when he did this.
Fast, he had my coat and hoodie off, my belt unbuckled, and my jeans open. His palm, hot against my dick, pulled another animalistic sound out of me.
As quickly as he’d dishevelled me and scrambled my brain, he backed off, leaving me panting and muddled, watching him as he stripped his own shirt over his head. He didn’t leave me hanging long, but reached and grabbed my arm, propelling me to the couch.
“Knees,” he said, voice like dark glass, as he guided me around the front while he climbed over the back.
I did what I was told, as I always did, and sank to kneeling between his legs as he landed with a little bounce on the cushion in front of me.
“This what you were after?” He held my gaze as he fished out his cock.
Perry knew it was exactly what I wanted, but I nodded anyway.
“In your mouth?”
I nodded again.
“Rules,” he said, still soft, still smooth, still unbending.
I couldn’t help a crooked grin, but I nodded and said, “Yes, please. I’d like your cock in my mouth.”
He sighed, an utterly contented sound. “I do love your voice, baby.”
He said it all the time. I had no idea what was so special about the way I sounded. It wasn’t like I had that same deep, sweet and salty flow to my voice as he had. I didn’t sound like a muppet, either. Maybe it was the words he loved. Hearing them, hearing me give him those permissions.
I tilted my head at him, wondering, but he only smoothed a hand down the side of my face and guided my chin forward to meet his cock. Cool with me. I was absolutely on board with this idea, and took him in as deep as I could.
Perry chuckled. “Pace yourself there, champ.”
