Reaching for the bottle again, Remington takes a sip, his eyes wide and his body pressed against mine, and leans in, tilting his head and kissing me, letting the bourbon follow. It’s warm and sweet, burning as it spreads across my mouth, slipping between us with the slow caress of his lips. A groan rumbles from my chest before I can stop it, and his grip at the back of my neck tightens.
“Mm, that’s right,” he murmurs. “Take it, daddy.”
My hand comes to his waist, while the other smooths up his chest. His breath hitches, his heartbeat a steady drum against my palm, and it’s not until right now that I notice how rosy his cheeks are. He looks exactly how I feel, and that’s oddly comforting.
“Think it’s about time we take this somewhere more comfortable,” he rasps. Holding my hand and grabbing the bottle, he doesn’t give me a chance to respond before leading me out of the kitchen.
Whatever happens tonight is going to change everything. If I were a better man, I’d end this right now before things get any more complicated.
But this was my idea, and I never did claim to be a better man.
Twenty-Two
Remi
I’m drunk on so much more than liquor.
Throwing my leg over Gentry, I straddle him and grab onto the headboard. Our lips meet in a flurry of need and unbridled desire. I groan as his tongue sweeps inside and rolls against mine. His mouth tastes like bourbon, the smooth smoke lingering in the back of my throat. Gentry deepens the kiss, taking his time, like he knows I’ve got nowhere to be but here.
My lips part, and he pulls a soft moan from me when he sucks on the tip of my tongue. Heat travels down my spine, settling low in my belly like a sinful promise. I can’t breathe, my head is dizzy, and I can’t seem to get close enough to him. I’m out of my mind, needing everything Gentry can give me.
Just this once.
Those three words have been playing on a loop in my mind since he sent that text. One time, that’s what I agreed to. But if being with him feelsthisgood, and it’s only the beginning, I already know with damn certainty, walking away in the morning is going to be the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
I grab the bottle and take another sip, but don’t swallow. Bringing my hand up to his face, I grip Gentry’s jaw, and when he relaxes and parts his lips, I lean over him and let the liquor spill into his mouth. He groans, his eyelids fluttering as he swallows. I lick into his mouth, tasting the bourbon fresh on his tongue. His hands come to my waist, slipping just beneath my t-shirt. Nails biting into my flesh, he grinds against me and kisses me back.
Gentry’s mouth is demanding. His hands are everywhere—squeezing, kneading, claiming—like he’s starving, and I’m the first real thing he’s tasted in years. It’s messy in the best way, sticky and sweet. A slow burn that quickly turns into a deep throb everywhere he touches.
My lips leaving his, I pepper kisses along his scruffy jaw. Gentry’s body shudders when my tongue dips out, licking a hot path up the column of his neck, the salty taste of his sweat, heady and intoxicating. I roll my hips, grinding against his thick, meaty erection, my cock already stiff and eager behind my jeans.
“I can’t take it,” Gentry breathes into my mouth as he holds me close. “I need you. I needmore, Remington.”
Never in a million years did I think I’d hear Gentry Moore utter those words to me. It’s a shot of lust straight to my core. It lights me up.
Hungry lips find mine again as his fingers work my belt open, then my jeans. As soon as my zipper’s down, he’s undoing his own. My gaze drops, and I fist my hands to keep from touching him while I watch with lust-drunk eyes as he pulls us out, taking both our dicks in his hand. The feel of his hard, thick cock pressed up against my own is unreal.
My need for Gentry isn’t just a thought anymore. It’s physical. It’s buzzing under my skin, an inferno raging in my gut, sending goosebumps and tingles all over. Visceral, and sofucking overwhelming. It steals my breath away and silences my mind, thinking about nothing but him. Only him.
Rocking my hips, my cock thrusting into his tight grip, pleasure soars through my body. We’re both so turned on, pre-cum spills from both of us. Gentry swipes his thumb over the tips, gathering the sticky liquid and using it as lube as he jacks us as one. I reach for his muscular bicep, holding on as I let my head fall forward. His eyes lift, dark and heavy, meeting mine.
This feels surreal.
Gentry Moore.
My best friend’s dad, and the man I’ve longed to be with for years.
This is happening, and I never thought it would. It steals my breath away.
Remembering what he admitted to me earlier, how inexperienced and rusty he is, I’m overcome with an intense desire to make this special. I want to spend the night taking care of him—his needs, his wants, his desires. Show him how good it can really be. Show him how goodIcan be for him.
Not that it really matters, in the grand scheme of things, since it’s only for tonight.
I place my hand over his, halting the movement. When his gaze lifts to mine, confusion furrowing his brow, I say, “I wanna taste you again. Wanna make you feel good.”
Climbing off his lap, I settle between his strong thighs before ridding him of his jeans, and then his shirt. I groan before I can stop myself as I unabashedly drag my gaze over Gentry. He’s naked and absolutely breathtaking.
His body is a masterpiece, built like the very ranch he’s dedicated his whole life to; strong at the foundation, and shaped by time, work, and sun. His broad shoulders look even wider without his clothes on, and his chest is thick and solid. The type of strength built not in a gym, but under the open sky and rough,unforgiving seasons. My eyes take in the marks on his body, a faint scatter of scars that each tell a different story. Stories I’d love to trace with my tongue and listen to for hours.
