Page 35 of Mean Machine

Nathaniel stared at him and closed his eyes when Brooklyn rubbed their cocks together. He loved that. Loved Nathaniel trusting him like this and just the sheer sensuality of the man when he was in the mood, and Nathaniel was in the mood at the drop of a hat. No awkward fumbling under the sheets with him. They were both bared, out in the early evening—it would get dark soon, but right now, everything was drenched in liquid gold.

Nathaniel opened his legs wider and hooked his ankles behind Brooklyn’s back, then pushed himself up enough to kiss him. “You’re such a top, aren’t you?”

“If I have the choice?”

Nathaniel grinned and licked his lips. “It’s not like I could hold you down. Even if I wanted.”

“Do you?”

“I like to keep things interesting.” Nathaniel squeezed his nipple, making Brooklyn groan. Half of that sensation set his teeth on edge; the rest went right to his cock. “I’m versatile. I do whatever I’m in the mood for.”

“Hope you’re in the mood to get fucked hard.” Brooklyn ground against him and reached over to the bedside table. Yes, the top drawer had lube. He slapped Nathaniel’s leg. “Open up.” He pushed the knees farther up, uncapped the lube, squeezed enough into his hand to coat his fingers well, and slid two into Nathaniel, working quickly, just as much as necessary.

Nathaniel watched him with hooded eyes, an almost ironic expression around his lips. It was the “make me” or “challenge me” face he wore really well. Nathaniel pulled a pillow closer and placed it under his arse. Yes. Brooklyn put on a condom. He’d planned to thrust in fast, but that didn’t quite work, so he eased himself in, allowing for Nathaniel’s body to relax. Which he did well, in the end, no sign of discomfort on his features.

Brooklyn kissed him again. But hell, Nathaniel was an excellent kisser, passionate and tender at the same time. No reservations, no rush, and the most delicious, soft sound when Brooklyn hilted inside him.

The blissed-out expression told him he’d done something right, and he kept doing it, rolling his hips, trying to keep some of the weight off Nathaniel, but again, he was stronger than a woman. There was a lot more force and strength involved. Part of him wanted to bruise Nathaniel, to remind him—hell, them both—of this.

“Do you know why I prefer you? To Rose, I mean?”

“Because I am very much better dressed?”

“No. I’d have to beat him into submission, at which point I’d be too tired to be a good fuck.”

Nathaniel laughed. “You’re safe with me.” The mirth in his eyes shocked Brooklyn. He slowed, drawing this out for them both, thrusts now less about getting to the end than savouring it, savouring the man and the closeness just as much as the sensations.

Slide of skin on skin, brushing of lips, and the odd sense of peace and fulfilment right there, right now. Part of Brooklyn wanted Nathaniel to look away, because it was damn near too intense to stare at him like this, but another part of him realised the man’s hunger for him wasn’t merely sexual. But he’d known that, right?

One way to break eye contact was to kiss him again, and this time Nathaniel held him tight, seized his neck and hand and held on, grinding against him and arching up until they both came in a sweaty, glorious mess.

“You can let me go now.”

“Don’t want to,” Nathaniel murmured, but still allowed Brooklyn to slip away and untangle himself.

He fell to the side, content in the buzz of adrenaline and endorphins and whatever other hormones were racing through his system. Nathaniel moved next to him and finally placed his head on Brooklyn’s shoulder.

Brooklyn reached out lazily and ran his fingers through the sweat-damp dark hair. And damn him, but he could get used to this. And that was a treacherous thought. Main difference between meeting his future wife and a one-night stand? The thought that he could really get used to her smell, her little sounds, the way she looked early the next morning, all tousled and blurred, with mascara stains under her eyes.

He’d never felt anything like that for a guy, though. Friendship, sure, some kind of loyalty, definitely. But he’d never entertained the possibility it could be different. More. The whole package.

He broke away only briefly to get rid of the condom in the bathroom and wash his hands, then returned to the exact same spot he’d left. “You worked pretty hard to get under my skin.”

Nathaniel breathed laughter, cool against Brooklyn’s chest. “You could say that. Do you feel manipulated?”

“I don’t particularly care.” Brooklyn turned his head and looked into Nathaniel’s face, but the man’s eyes were closed, features relaxed, which made him appear almost innocent. “Wouldn’t change anything.”

Emotions. Possibilities. Except, of course, his only option was to be treated like a convict in public and a lover in private. Could he live like that? Right now, he could. But what about when they returned to London?

“Those are some heavy thoughts,” Nathaniel murmured and pushed himself up on an elbow.

“What?”

“Frowning.” Nathaniel tilted his head quizzically. “I can’t read your mind.”

“Not always so sure about that.”

“You learn to read people in my profession.”

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