“Only I get to touch it tonight. But I’m only gonna do it if you tell me.”
Brady reached again, and she swatted his hand away.
Laughing, he said, “Yes. There was a look, okay?”
She nodded and resumed playing with his dick.
She paused to lift her butt off his legs. “Move back.”
He shifted underneath her until he was stretched across the bed. She moved with him, continuing to stroke when he was where she wanted him.
“And what was the look for?”
“That’s gonna require more persuasion,” he told her.
“Oh, really?”
Brady nodded. “You should try usin’ your mouth.”
Reilly licked her lips, peering down at his long, thick length, which was still tunneling in and out of her fist. She wasn’t sure he even realized he was doing it, but Brady was pumping his hips.
She scooted down his legs, pressing her breasts to his thighs while still holding his cock in her hand. She licked the tip, staring up the length of his torso to watch his face. Brady never stopped looking at her. That was what he always did when she put her mouth on him. As though he was as turned on by the sight as much as the sensation.
She kissed the tip, then circled her tongue around the crest.
He moaned.
“What was the look for?”
Brady lifted his head. “I’ll tell you what. You suck me, then I’ll lick you. After that, you can ride me. Then, if you make me come, I might consider talkin’ about your brother. But as long as your mouth’s close to my dick, I have no desire to talk about him.”
Reilly chuckled. That made sense. She wasn’t all that eager to talk at the moment, either.
“Fine. But if you don’t tell me after…” She let the warning linger in the air around them as she set out to show him exactly how good she was at persuasion.
Eleven
“Do you know how fuckin’ hard itis to keep my hands off you?” Donovan asked Tate when they walked into the house shortly after dropping Reilly and Brady off.
“How hard?” Tate asked, opening the refrigerator.
Since an answer was impossible to put into words, Donovan changed the subject, coming to stand behind Tate, sliding his arms around him. “I know you can’t possibly be hungry.”
Tate leaned into him. “I’m a growin’ boy, don’t you know?”
Donovan leaned down and pressed his nose to the crook of Tate’s neck. “Which part of you is growin’ right this second?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
Oh, yeah. This was where he wanted to be. Home, with Tate in his arms, feeling the warmth of his body against him. The only thing better would’ve been if they were both naked. Based on the banter, he knew it wouldn’t be long before that became a reality.
Tate tilted his head back, looking at Donovan. “Do you know how much Ihatetuna casserole?”
Donovan laughed, releasing him and stepping back. “Seriously?”
Tate’s eyes rounded as though he couldn’t believe he’d admitted it.
“She’s made it at least once a week for—Shit. SinceIwas a kid. And you’re just speakin’ up now?”
