Which made him wonder why he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.
Chapter Fourteen
Five hours later…
Dallas, Texas
“Are you hungry?”
Brantley dumped his duffel bag on the bed and glanced behind him. “I’m always hungry, so was that a trick question?”
He could feel the tension coming off Reese in waves. It had been there since they’d entered the city limits, and he figured Reese was spending far too much time thinking about the last time they’d been here together. This was their first time back since the shit hit the fan, and he’d known it was going to dredge up old feelings and new concerns. And perhaps trigger Reese’s PTSD since the man had been shot at a restaurant not too far from where they were right now.
Whatever it was that had Reese tied up in knots, Brantley wanted to ease his mind, and he knew just the thing to help.
Reese was leaning over his bag to pull something out, so Brantley moved up behind him, sliding his hand over Reese’s stomach, then venturing lower.
“It’s still a little early for dinner,” Reese continued, “but—”
“I’m not interested in food, Reese.”
Reese stood tall, leaned into him. “No?”
“I don’t have low blood sugar,” Brantley reminded him, speaking gruffly in his ear. “And I’m not on a rigid schedule.”
“No?”
“No.” Brantley cupped Reese through his jeans, gliding the heel of his hand along what was quickly becoming a very impressive erection. “Not at all.”
He continued to fondle him until Reese relaxed against him. Brantley easily counterbalanced his weight by leaning forward, sliding his palms beneath Reese’s shirt to caress hot, smooth skin while inhaling his musky scent—a combination of the cologne Reese favored and his body wash. Brantley liked the combination, but more than that, he loved how intoxicated it made him feel.
“What’re you doin’, Navy boy?” There was a definite rough grind to Reese’s voice.
“It was a long drive. I thought I’d relax for a minute.”
“Yeah?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“And you think sex’ll relax either of us?”
Brantley smiled, kissing the side of Reese’s neck. “I don’t know, but I intend to find out. Unbutton your jeans.”
While he continued to grind his palm along the hard ridge of Reese’s cock, Reese began to work loose the button on his jeans.
“I really want to be inside you right now,” Brantley whispered, nipping Reese’s shoulder. “I want to bend you over that desk and fuck you hard.” His voice dropped an octave as he imagined it. “I want to hear you say my name when I’m deep inside you. To feel your ass grip me like a fist as you groan and beg for more.”
A soft groan was Reese’s response.
“Yeah.” Brantley smiled against his neck. “That’s the sound. You like that idea, my cock buried to the hilt in your tight, hot ass.”
Reese’s hands fumbled as he pushed his jeans down his lean hips, a sound resembling agreement coming from his throat.
Brantley gripped Reese’s cock in his fist and lightly stroked him, maintaining a leisurely pace. While he wanted nothing more than to bend him over that desk or, better yet, throw Reese to the bed and fuck him like a wild animal, he knew the only way to keep Reese’s mind in the present was to go slow. And since this was as much a distraction as it was to sate their baser urges, Brantley relied on his tight-leashed control to keep himself from doing just that.
“But I’m not goin’ to. Not yet, anyway.”
“Why not?” Reese rasped, his hips pumping gently as he rocked his cock into Brantley’s fist.
