“Shit, I gotta be older than that. Look at you.”
His eyes crossed when he tried. “How old are you?”
“Thirty-nine.” Coke chuckled, pulled into the La Quinta.
“Well, see? I’m all of thirty-five. So not old enough to call me son!”
“You’ve heard of the whole mileage thing, huh?”
“I knew you’d try that one.” He gave Coke a smug grin. “I log about five miles a night.”
Coke chuckled, shook his head. “You look good, huh? Real good.”
“Okay, so we agree that we both look good. My legs are all healed. Do you have any nagging injuries that will require Doc in the middle of things?” He just wanted to be sure.
“Not yet. Tomorrow’s a crap shoot.” Coke was grinning like a kid let loose in a toy store.
“Then we’d better get busy tonight.” He grinned back, starting to really get into the play.
“You think?” Coke opened the truck door, staring over at him, eyes lit up. “You sure that won’t wear your ass out?”
“You might, but I am strong. My strength is the strength of ten men, because my heart is pure.” He did his best King Arthur impression. Errol Flynn. Whatever.
He could watch that beautiful son of a bitch laugh forever. Forever.
“Well, come on, then. We can leave the suitcases.” Dillon paused. “Unless you have lube in your bag?”
Coke looked like he’d swallowed a frog.
A big, slimy frog.
Like one of the ones from Australia.
“In my ditty bag.”
“Then we need your bag.” He would grab his, too. So much for unencumbered. Eh, they had to check in, anyway.
It didn’t take long—especially with Coke growling about having to wait—and they had two keys, coupons for ten percent off at the Denny’s, and a third floor room. They hustled to the elevator, and Dillon knew better than to start there, because there would be no time to finish. That didn’t stop him from teasing. Coke stared at him, the heat pouring off the solid body. Dillon moved close, letting his hip bump Coke’s, breathing deep to catch Coke’s scent. Oh, God. He was going to explode. He’d wanted for so long.
“You be good, now.” Coke leaned in, those eyes green and gray and brown.
“Why? I thought we were going to misbehave. A lot.” Please, God.
“Uh-huh. Not in the elevator. Where we ain’t got to stop.”
“I know. I’m being good.” Good, damn it. He really was. Mostly. The elevator opened and they dragged their gear in down the hall, Coke hanging back a little.
He popped the key into the lock, glancing over his shoulder. “Everything okay?”
Those eyes were on his ass, and when they popped to his face, Coke turned almost purple.Oh.
Woo. Possibly hoo. The door resisted just long enough that he got frustrated, but Dillon finally got it open, grumbling a little. Then he pushed in and held the door for Coke, dropping his bag. Coke put his duffle down, then took the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign and hung it on the handle.Score. He waited, hands hanging at his sides, not sure what to do next. Except stare at Coke.
“This is a little weird, huh?” Coke asked. It would be more weird if they both weren’t hard as nails.
“A little, yeah. I’m just afraid if I touch you, something horrible will happen and we’ll have to stop.d
“I ain’t much on being afraid, Dillon.” One of those square hands reached out and snagged him, dragging him right into Coke’s strength.
