“Nope. Didn’t get my shorts in a wad, neither.” He touched the stitches on his face. “You reckon Doc’ll notice if I take the stitches out before ten days is up?”
“I bet he will.” Suddenly right there, Dillon stroked his cheek, under the cut. “He did a good job.”
He couldn’t ignore the little flutter in the pit of his belly. “You don’t think it’s gonna be Frankensteiny?”
“No. I think it’s going to be one of those hot scars. You know, like Raul has on his chin?” Dillon went up on tiptoe and kissed his face.
“Yeah?” He found his hands a home on Dillon’s waist, fingers tracing the scars that were along one side from where Dillon’s barrel’d broke.
“Uh-huh. Sexy. A little badge of honor.” Their mouths came together, Dillon pressing against him, loving on him.
His cock filled right up, almost hurting where it pushed against his zipper, trying to get to Dillon. The man was like a furnace against him, setting him on fire.
“Mmm. Oh, man. Coke. Babe.” Dillon all but crawled up his body, holding on, trying not to hit his bruised shoulder, which he did appreciate.
He couldn’t help the little shiver, the soft groan. That was something, that name. “Yeah.”
“Come on, babe. Let’s get horizontal.” Crowding him back, Dillon pushed him to the bed, working away at his clothes.
“I thought you were hungry.” He grabbed Dillon’s ass, moaning low. So fucking fine.
“Oh, I want some chocolate. Some coffee. Some Coke, first, though.” Dillon crawled on top of him, still dressed to his mostly naked.
“You can have whatever you want, honey. The door’s locked, and I ain’t answering the phone.” He spread his legs, cradling Dillon and rocking a little.
“Good. I’m greedy.” Yeah. Lord, that mouth. It could talk a mile a minute, and it could latch onto his skin, just like that, Dillon sucking hard on his collarbone.
Oh, sweet Jesus. He felt his eyes rolling as his throat worked. Oh, God. Him and Dan’d loved on each other some, but he’d not ever been with someone so hungry for him. Laughing, Dillon moved up to kiss his mouth, lips and tongue working him over but good. He moaned, one hand sliding up to cup the back of Dillon’s head, just hanging on. Dillon bounced on him, jeans rough against his skin, sweet nothings pushing into his mouth. Hot as a two dollar pistol.
Jeans. Off. They should, but. Damn. He pushed his tongue against Dillon’s, tongue fucking those hot lips.
They finally broke to breathe, Dillon staring down at him, chest rising and falling hard. “Wow.”
“Uh-huh. Jesus, honey, you…” He didn’t have any words. Not any good ones.
“Want you.”
Now, Dillon’s words and actions didn’t seem to match up, because he hopped up like his ass was on fire. He was only going to get the stuff from the store, though.
“You got too many clothes on, honey.” Way too many. He wanted to see.
“Oh. Here, hold this.” The little bag landed on the bed, and Dillon started stripping off like there was no tomorrow.
He’d have unloaded the little bag, but he got to watching. Dillon shaved his legs and had a smooth, flat little belly, not all fuzzy like him. It was that belly that got him every time. Well, and the ass. Dillon had a nice, solid dick, too.
“I want you.” He found himself scooting, reaching for Dillon, for that hard cock.
“Well, that’s good.” Dillon moved close enough for him to reach, moaning when his fingers made contact.
His hand slipped up and down, fingers sliding on the thin skin, trying to imagine the length of it inside him, filling him up.
“Mnh.” Dillon didn’t seem like he was thinking at all, just feeling, loving Coke’s hand on him.
Coke hummed softly, thumb rubbing the ridge around the swollen tip, nudging the slit a little.
“Coke!” Grunting, Dillon moved up on the bed, crawling up on him, skin on skin.
“Yeah. Yeah, c’mere.” He dragged Dillon closer, moaning as they started rubbing.
