“Unlock your door.”
“I’m on it.”
He grabbed his key card and headed out, leaving his stuff, his shoes. The booze.
When he got to Beau’s room, the door was open a crack by the hinge lock, waiting for him. Only the little bathroom light was on. He shut the door behind him, locked it.
Beau was on him the moment the lock clicked shut, hands on his arms, twirling him around. His hands landed on Beau’s waist, the hard little body the best thing he’d ever felt.
“Sam.” Beau didn’t say nothin’ else, just reached up to pull him close by the shoulders, kissing him like mad.
Sam moaned low, toes curling into the carpet. Beau tasted like home, like heaven. He opened up, let that hot tongue push into his lips. Everything went away but him and Beau and this. Their mouths together, their bodies rubbing like two sticks to make fire.
Beau shoved his sweats down his legs, even as he got the pajama pants off Beau. Then they slapped together, skin on skin. Their cocks rubbed, their chests moving against each other, his hairy, Beau’s almost as smooth as Joa’s or something. He thought he ought to touch, but the kisses were so good and his hands were holding onto Beau’s waist as if his Boug was a lifesaver and he was a drowning man.
So he held on while Beau kissed him and bit his lower lip and humped him back toward the bed.
He let himself be led, the kisses getting messy, sloppy, damn toothy. Beau moaned for him, reaching down to squeeze Sam’s cock. It felt so good it was almost shocking.
“Boug.” He met Beau’s eyes, then slammed their mouths together to stop all the words from pouring out of his lips.
Grunting, Beau pushed against him until the backs of his knees hit the bed. Then they turned sideways so no one had to beon their backs and sank down on the mattress. He could finally let go, let his hands run up and down Beau’s skin.
Gasping, grunting, Beau pulled him flush against that sturdy body, grabbing his ass. “Missed this butt, Poot.”
“Missed you. Fuck, I cain’t. You’re mine and… I wanna come home.”
“God, yes.” Beau was the one who cut them off this time, mouth latching on to Sam’s throat. He grunted, chin lifted, one hand tangling in Beau’s hair and holding him close. Beau sucked a mark right up on his neck, right where the whole world could see tomorrow. Oh, Lord.
“Yours.” His balls ached, his belly was so fucking tight. “Beau.”
“Mine. Mine, babe.” That hard cock was against his hip, leaving a damp trail. He nodded, his hand wrapping around Beau’s prick and squeezing tight, thumb working the tip, sliding the wet around.
“Fuck!” Beau bucked against him, grunting, panting. So ready so fast.
All he could do was nod, agree. Yes.
They worked around until he was propped up on the pillows, his knees almost to his chest, Beau between his legs. Beau was cussing, hunting something on the little bedside table. “Damn it, where the hell did I put it, Poot?”
“Your shaving kit...” He knew Beau. Knew that the K-Y would be close by.
“That’s it.” Sam missed that hard body when Beau rolled away, but that just made it all the better when he came back. He reached out, fingers trailed up Beau’s spine, legs wrapping around his cowboy’s waist.
“Goddamn, babe. Need.” Beau fumbled, trying to open the lube.
“Uh-huh. Now.” Now worked for him. He got his hands in the act, helping.
“There!” Crowing, Beau squirted, lube going everywhere. Chortling, he spread and arched, shifting away from the dropping goo.
“Sorry, Poot.” Laughing with him, Beau got the worst of it scooped up and on his fingers, pressing them between Sam’s legs.
How had he walked away from this? How could anyone? Beau was the one thing that made sense. The one thing out of everything.
“Love you.” He needed Beau to hear it.
“Oh, babe. I love you so much.” Beau bent and kissed him, fingers pushing deep. He opened up, bore down, taking Beau in. Those fingers pushed and pushed, opening him up. So perfect, the pressure.
He needed and he let himself chill out and fucking feel every second. His legs relaxed, and so did his belly, and suddenly he could breathe. They grinned at each other, eyes meeting dead-on. Okay. He was okay. Fuck, he was better than okay.
