But the man who’d been stressed to the point of snapping was no longer in sight. This guy, the playful one with the wicked smirk and the twinkling blue-gray eyes, had taken his place, and Reese knew he would have to work to get his answers.
He didn’t mind working for it.
Most of the time.
“Tell me,” Reese insisted.
Tesha hopped up on the couch, her feet on the back cushion. Brantley paused to give her a friendly rough rub, which only excited her more.
“Brantley.”
He laughed. “I didn’t hear aplease.”
“And you won’t,” he countered, his frustration bleeding through.
Brantley sidestepped him, moving just out of reach as soon as Reese thought he had the man cornered.
“You’re gonna have to be faster than that,” Brantley taunted.
“I’m not playin’ this game with you,” he said, even as he continued to play the damn game.
“Oh, I think you secretly like this game.” Brantley moved closer, almost within his grasp, but then he darted back.
Before Reese could figure out his next move, Brantley turned the tables on him.
Reese found himself with his back pressed to Brantley’s chest, those rock-solid arms wrapped tightly around him, holding him in place.
“You really wanna know?” Brantley whispered in his ear.
“Yes.”
“Hmm. It’s gonna cost you.”
Those four words had the ability to thicken his cock and increase his blood pressure.
“How much are you gonna charge?” he asked, playing along.
Brantley nudged Reese’s head to the side, his lips lingering near his ear for a second before they slid along his neck.
Reese moaned, unable to resist when Brantley did that.
Tesha, clearly sensing the game was over, flopped down on the couch and ignored them.
“You’re gonna be broke when I’m through with you,” Brantley said, that sexy promise reverberating against his skin.
Reese’s knees wobbled as pleasure tore through him. It was all he could do to put one foot in front of the other as Brantley urged him toward their bedroom while he continued to suck on his neck.
As soon as they reached the door, Brantley was pulling Reese’s shirt over his head, kicking the door closed behind them. Brantley gave him no time to question what he was doing before he was once again behind him, his lips trailing along his shoulder, sucking more insistently.
Reese knew Brantley was going to leave marks, but he was ensuring they weren’t visible. The last time Brantley had done that, he’d left hickeys on Reese’s chest, then spent a solid week marking over them again and again as a constant reminder for Reese.
To say the man had his number was an understatement. Reese loved when he marked him. There was something insanely hot about it, especially when Brantley seemed to get off on seeing those marks.
“Don’t move,” Brantley rasped near his ear.
Reese remained still, aware of Brantley pulling off his own shirt. A second later, the heat of his skin blasted along his back as Brantley’s arms came around him, his palms teasing over his stomach, his chest. Reese tilted his head in the opposite direction to give Brantley’s lips free rein.
It took effort to remain upright as Brantley’s hands roamed over his torso. He didn’t miss an inch, curling his fingers around Reese’s throat, holding him there for a moment while he sucked roughly on the back of his neck. Then he used both hands to pinch Reese’s nipples, plucking them to the point of pain while he nipped Reese’s shoulder.
