Page 15

“Oh, God, don’t remind me. I chased my tail and ended up down almost two grand. I learned my lesson about why Las Vegas has those monstrosities of resorts and hotels. I think I should consider my loss an investment in their economy,” he snickered, shaking his head.

My phone rang from the building’s buzzer, informing me our pizza was there. I let the delivery person in and pulled out my wallet.

“Let me get this,” Craig said, reaching for his wallet.

“Okay, but it’s for the tip. I already paid for the pizza.”

“Then they’ll get a nice tip,” he said, walking to the door as the doorbell rang.

Once we had served ourselves pizza and salad, we sat in the living room and turned on the game. We were both baseball fans, and every year we hoped our San Francisco team would make it to the playoffs, which hadn’t happened in five years. I preferred football to baseball, but Craig played baseball in high school and received a recruitment scholarship for his first year in college. Baseball was taking too much from his studies, and as much as he loved the game, he quit playing after his first year to focus on school.

“This umpire is as blind as a fucking bat!” Craig hollered. “That was so in the strike zone.”

After an hour watching our team get destroyed and Craig’s blood pressure spike, I figured it was time to turn off the TV and create some of our own sweaty action.

“Hey!” he said, gesturing to the TV.

“Sorry, babe…but this game isn’t going anywhere in our favor,” I replied, scooting closer to pull him into me.

He threw his head back. “So, what did you have in mind?”

“Well…you were a pitcher when you played, so I want to play catcher tonight for you,” I said, before giving him a chaste kiss to emphasize my point.

“If that’s the case, we’d better head onto the field,” he teased, taking my hand and pulling me up from the sofa.

“Lead the way, Bannon,” I said as he pulled me toward the bedroom.

I wanted him to give it to me hard and fast—just like I liked it.

8

CRAIG

Pizza and sex on a Friday night were exactly what I needed. As I entered his bedroom, I noticed he’d already turned down the bed and set the nightstand lights low, giving the room a sexy, warm glow. The lube and a set of wristbands were already next to the bed.

“I see you anticipated what we’d be doing tonight,” I teased as I pulled him across the room.

“All except for who’s doing who,” he replied with a waggling brow.

“Well, it’s a fifty-fifty chance I’d make the correct guess. And I’d put money on you wanting me to fuck you into that mattress tonight.”

Craig let out a raucous laugh. “You’d definitely win that bet.”

From all our suggestive banter, I was already painfully hard in my jeans. I ran a hand down the front of his lounge pants to cup his impressive length growing under my touch. As much as I loved having his nine inches deep inside me, I knew what turned him on when I had the chance to plow his ass. Our versatility and flexibility made flip-flopping a fun game.

Not wasting time, I took hold of his waistband and pulled his lounge pants down so he could step out of them. His cock had already begun leaking pre-cum, and I immediately bent down to lap at the slick offering. Jonesy’s hands went to my head, and I took that as an invitation to sit back on the bed, pulling him toward me. I gazed up at his heated eyes before enveloping his crown with my mouth.

My hands found his ass cheeks, and I slowly caressed them. He let out a pleased moan as I took his cock to the back of my throat, humming in response.

“Ahhh, fuck, babe…Jesus. You know how to use that talented mouth of yours,” he said, running his fingers through my hair.

I pulled back, coating his dick with spit so he could face-fuck me. I wasn’t going to swallow his load, and I knew instinctively when to pull off before he came. I took a firm grip of his ass cheeks and pulled his hips to my face, urging him to have his way with my mouth. He didn’t hesitate.

He slowly pumped his hips as I gripped his ass, encouraging him to fuck my mouth as hard and fast as he wanted. “Damn, Howler, you’re gonna make me come before I’m ready,” he warned.

The nickname Howler was one he’d given me when we started dating, as he fucked me doggy-style. I’d buried my face into the pillow and howled like a bitch in heat as my orgasm hit. It was a nickname I told him he could only use in private. I didn’t want to have to explain it to anyone. Unfortunately, he’d let it slip once in front of Wynn’s now-husband, Eli.

“Okay. Too much,” Jonesy said, pulling out. “As talented as that mouth of yours is, I wanna come when you fuck me, not before.”