Brantley nearly fell over when Reese slid his back down the door, going to his knees. He took Brantley’s cock in his mouth without hesitation, sucking him to the root.
Brantley planted his hands on the door and pumped his hips, taking everything the man was willing to give him and then some. Each minute felt like a millennium, and when he came, it was with a muted grunt.
His legs were weak as the adrenaline waned, but he didn’t back off, pulling Reese to his feet and kissing him again. He wanted to return the favor, but Reese stopped him, gripping his wrist.
Brantley pulled back to meet his gaze, confused.
“Later,” Reese whispered, cupping the back of Brantley’s neck and pulling him closer. “Let me ride this edge for a little while.”
“You sure?”
Reese took Brantley’s hand and pressed against the hard ridge that was getting intimate with his zipper. Brantley ground his palm along Reese’s shaft, watching his honey-gold eyes glitter as he rode the wave of pleasure.
“Yeah,” Reese breathed. “You can spend the rest of the day buildin’ me up.”
Ah. That made perfect sense. Brantley had noticed that Reese was doing that more lately. He was putting off the satisfaction, urging Brantley to tease him more often, letting it build over the course of a few hours.
“I can definitely do that,” Brantley whispered as more tension drained from his body. “I happen to like when you’re primed.”
And he did. The few times they’d done this, Reese had fucked him within an inch of his life. To be honest, there was nothing hotter than Reese Tavoularis untethered.
Chapter Eleven
“If I never eat again, it’ll betoo soon,” Z said as he leaned back in his chair and put his hand on his stomach.
Reese laughed at his brother.
Today had been a damn good day. Not only the activities but the time he spent with the people he was closest to. What was even better was how well they all meshed. Brantley’s brothers got along with RT and Z as though they’d known each other their entire lives. They joked and laughed and gave each other shit like brothers did.
Reese knew from experience that Cal and Griffin could get annoying after a time, but even Atticus was capable of taking their shit and dishing it right back.
“So what’s next?” Killian asked, leaning back in his chair like his belly was too large to fit in front of the table. The guy was possibly in better shape than him. The only difference was Reese had to watch every damn thing he ate. Unlike Brantley, who seemed to have an obedient metabolism.
Then again, Killian raced in marathons with his wife, and they’d been doing it since before they were married.
“I think it comes down to a vote,” Baz stated, knocking back what was left of his Mexican martini.
“What are we votin’ on?” Z asked.
“We’re not far from Sixth Street,” Baz explained. “We could head that way, check out the scene.”
“Or?” Brantley asked. Reese could hear the hope in his voice. They weren’t much for bar crawls, so hopefully, the second option would be better.
“There’s a bar in the hotel. We could head there.”
“Option two sounds better than option one,” Brantley said, glancing from one face to another.
“I agree,” Reese said.
“Or we could pick up some booze and take it back to the room,” RT suggested.
Atticus frowned, peering at each person. “How fuckin’ old are you people?”
That got a round of laughs.
“Old enough to know better,” Cal answered for the group.
Reese honestly didn’t care what they did. He would prefer not to go to 6th Street, but that was just him. If everyone else wanted to go, he would gladly go with them and enjoy it the same as if they took the party back to the hotel room. Which technically wasn’t one room; they had three enormous suites, two of which were adjoining.
