“All right, all right.” Monty seemed to be building up his own resolve as much as he was trying to reassure Hilliard.
He leaned over in a rush to set the ramekin on the bedside table. In his hurry, Monty misjudged how far he would have to stretch. His muscled stomach pressed against Hilliard’s soft one, squishing the dollop of mousse between them. Hilliard gasped as Monty sat up again, revealing the thick chocolate streak his mistake left behind. Somehow, it looked even worse than it had before.
Their eyes met for half a second before they both fell apart into laughter.
“Come here,” Hilliard managed before another peal of giggles left him too breathless to speak. Monty settled on top of him, fully committing to their ruined experiment as he tucked his face into Hilliard’s neck with a helpless groan. Hilliard wrapped him up in his arms, one hand cradling the back of his head.
Once they’d regained their composure, Hilliard felt the press of Monty’s lips against his throat.
“Love you, Hilliard,” he murmured.
His heart could’ve burst.
“I love you too, sugar.”
Monty lifted his head and they came together for a slow, sweet kiss. Before long, slow and sweet became lingering and heavy, which became using one corner of the quilt to wipe the chocolate from their stomachs so they could move forward with what they’d started.
“I’m sorry that didn’t go the way you imagined,” Hilliard said, head tilted back as Monty teased his clavicle with more delicate kisses. His hand had slipped beneath the waistband of Hilliard’s underwear, providing Monty with an ample handful of his backside.
“I’m not,” Monty said between kisses, his voice throaty and distant. Hilliard had worked a hand between them and was doing some teasing of his own.
“At least the mousse turned out.”
A short hum of agreement came from Monty.
Hilliard was smug that he’d gratified the man into temporarily losing his words. There was a damp spot aligned with where the tip of his middle finger was circling the head of Monty’s erection through the fabric of his shorts.
“There’s more of it in the Frigidaire,” Hilliard continued nonchalantly.
Monty grunted on an exhale. His kisses had slowed, along with the hand cupping Hilliard’s behind. He still gave it a few kneading squeezes when he seemed to remember that’s what he’d been doing before. Hilliard brushed all four of his fingertips along Monty’s length, fondling the tight base with care before returning to his previous ministrations. This time, he used a little more pressure.
“Okay,” Monty breathed.
“Hmm?” Hilliard kept his pace steady now.
“O–okay,” Monty choked out, hips bucking once into Hilliard’s touch. “Fuck,” he hissed, pulling his hand from Hilliard’s underwear and burying it down the front of his own.
He jerked himself until the wet patch grew significantly under Hilliard’s fingertips. It was nearly enough to send Hilliard over the edge himself. He wrapped his arm around Monty’s waist and held him close, pressing a kiss to his temple. Monty relaxed into the embrace until he’d recovered enough to find his words again.
“Your turn,” he panted.
Hilliard arched a brow. “You sure you’re up for it?”
“Is my name Montgomery Kincaid?”
For some reason, the question made Hilliard blush.
“It is.”
“Good,” Monty said. “I want to hear you shout it in about…” he rolled away slightly, looking between them at what Hilliard was sporting. “Three minutes?”
Hilliard smiled against the lazy kiss Monty pressed to his lips.
“Make it two and I’ll moan it in your ear,” he promised.
“Deal.”
Chapter 23
