Donovan chuckled, then slid his hand across Tate’s cheek, his expression sobering. “I want to take you home. I want to keep you there. Can I take you home?”
“Yes.”
“Will you stay?”
Tate wasn’t sure whether he was referring to one night or the rest of his life. Either way, the answer was the same. “Yes.”
“Good.” Donovan stepped back, causing Tate’s hands to fall from under his coat. “Now come on. Let’s warm you up.”
“I’m not cold,” Tate said as he slid down from the tailgate.
“Tell that to your fuckin’ hands,” Donovan grumbled.
On the short drive to Donovan’s house, Tate stared out the window, grinning to himself. When they passed Brady’s house, he noticed Reilly’s truck was parked out front. He almost mentioned it to Donovan, then swallowed the words before they could escape. The last thing he wanted was to bring Reilly into this. He would certainly be texting her later, but for now, he figured they could both enjoy spending Christmas Eve with the men they’d been pining for for so long.
Tate had been to Donovan’s house numerous times over the years. Birthdays, holidays, Sunday night football. However, he’d never been here without Reilly, and he realized it felt different.
Not worse, not better. Just different.
They walked in through the garage. When they were in the kitchen, Donovan emptied his pockets, tossing his wallet, keys, and phone on the counter before shrugging out of his coat. As soon as he did, he grabbed Tate’s hand and dragged him through the living room and down the hallway to his bedroom.
Tate didn’t have time to wonder what was going to happen now that they were here. He was grateful for that because he’d been nervous enough for most of the night. He figured if he kept it up, he might give Donovan a complex.
As soon as they were in the bedroom, Donovan released him to flip on the wall sconces, which provided enough ambient light to see the enormous king-sized bed, plush black comforter, and variety of patterned throw pillows on top. Tate was taking it all in when Donovan stepped in front of him, filling his view with his big muscular body. Tate tipped his head back. Donovan was watching him, his green eyes churning with heat.
They came together in a spark of passion that blazed through him as Donovan stripped them both, moving closer and closer to the bed while leaving a trail of clothes behind them on the floor. All Tate could do was hold on as Donovan wrapped one big arm around him, kissing him roughly while he jerked the bedding off the bed, sending it toppling to the floor.
Then they were horizontal, Donovan pinning him to the bed with his weight. Tate didn’t let him go, wanting him to stay just like that so he could feel the heat of his body and the steady rise and fall of his chest as he panted while kissing him with devastating urgency.
“Last night was about foreplay,” Donovan whispered. “Right now, I just need to be inside you.”
“What was earlier for?” Tate asked, smiling. “At the store?”
“My sanity.”
Tate laughed.
“I need to be inside you,” Donovan whispered roughly.
Tate nodded because he needed the same thing. It was all he could do not to writhe and plead when Donovan sat on his haunches, producing a condom out of thin air and rolling it on. He was eternally grateful that the man had the ability to think about lube because Tate was so worked up he couldn’t remember his own freaking name, and as eager as he was, dry was going to hurt.
“Keep your eyes open,” Donovan said when he loomed above him once more. “Put your legs around me.”
Tate did, pulling his knees back and cradling his hips while the head of Donovan’s cock probed his hole.
Donovan grunted, his lips twisting as he slowly pushed inside him, stretching him to the point of pain. Tate breathed through it because it was nothing compared to the complete euphoria that consumed him as they became one.
Despite the urgency that fizzed in the air, Donovan took his time, fucking him deep and slow, sending shards of ecstasy bursting through his bloodstream as he succumbed to the intensity. The way Donovan’s shoulders and arm muscles flexed as he rocked forward and back was more than enough to have Tate gasping. When his eyes closed of their own volition, Donovan barked for him to open them. And when he whimpered Donovan’s name, a smirk would form as he watched him.
It was better than anything Tate had ever felt, and he knew without a doubt that he was forever ruined.
“Let me love you, Tate,” Donovan whispered, shifting so he could continue pumping his hips at a different angle, taking them both to the inevitable breaking point.
“Yes,” he rasped, sliding his fingers into Donovan’s silky hair. “Love me. Please.”
Donovan’s eyes flashed with fire as he began rolling his hips faster, grunting with every delicious thrust.
“I want you to come,” Donovan groaned, propping himself on one arm so he could stroke Tate’s cock.
