Page 52 of Manhattan Tormentor

“You try to see the good in people, Fierro, where there’s no good. If someone treated me how I’ve treated you, you can bet your sweet as fuck BMW I wouldn’t invite them into my house. That’s your weakness.” I pause but add. “It’s what I also like about you.” The truth. I see color hit his face. “You should be selfish.”

“Like the rest of you?”

“Yeah, we’re all selfish pricks. Be like Lachlan.”

“My brother is the least selfish person there is.”

I smirk at his immediate defense. Seeing the good in people again. “To the few allowed into his inner sanctum, to everyone else, Lachlan is someone to avoid.”

Sage half grins. “That’s true. Okay, you got me there. So according to you, not being selfish and seeing the good in people is my flaw? Fine, I’ll take that over being a dick.”

I laugh and cross the room; he kicks his head back on the seat when I’m almost towering down over him. This close, it’s easy to see the banked lust in his blue eyes. It makes him appear drowsy even as he tips his head to stare at me. At every turn, this guy has surprised the hell out of me. And continues when I can’t get a word out of my mouth as he grabs my hips and yanks me forward, almost putting his face in line with my crotch.

My whole body shudders.

I want him so badly it’s not even funny now. I can’t put it off as being drunk and high. I’m stone cold sober and going out of my mind with the desire to get every part of me all over him. Maul the fuck out of him so I can hear his grunts.

“Before that mouth of yours blurts more shit. Why don’t you get your dick out, it’s what you’re here for isn’t it, to get it sucked?”

As conversation stoppers go, that is the best one of all. My jaw slacks and my body is hot as it’s ever been, aching and hard as steel.

I want his goddamn mouth wrapped around me so tight until I die.

Sage has the same idea when he uses the front of my shirt to yank me down to his mouth. He forces mine open in a kiss so electric that my spine is pure static energy.

My breath stops when he opens my jeans.

C H A P T E R 14

Sage

“You sure you want this?”

His fast inhaling is doing a number on me as I roll his thick cock through my licked palm. The back of my throat aches, wanting to know how tight he feels back there. But the look on his strained face… he’s either ready to slam me on his cock or bolt for the door.

I scrape my blunt nail over his dripping crown. He groans, pushing his neck back to expose his protruding veins. “Shit,” he hisses. I spread my legs so he can get between and still have room to use the headrest of the chair as leverage. “Put my fucking dick in your mouth,” he sounds tortured, and that puts a laugh in my mouth as I go on stroking him until he grasps the back of my neck. “Fierro.Fuck.”

“You’ll fucking wait,” I am no pushover to be told what to do, not when I finally have his pleasure in my hands.

It’s a head rush to hear the noises of need he lets go of. The louder he gets, the slower I go. He twitches and curses. Snapping his fingers around my neck, he rocks his hips forward when I lick the drop of come from the tip. It’s game over for me. He might be desperate, but so am I.

His length jumps against the roof of my mouth when I take him in, and my heart gallops. He’s so expressive, more than I thought he’d be. I assume I’d get my mouth on him and he’d realize he isn’tgayenoughto let a guy suck him off. But he has two hands in my hair now, tugging hard enough that my scalp tingles. Driving me on to give him something mind-blowing.

As sure as I am that he wants me now, there’s a definite guarantee he will chalk this up to a curious mistake. He’ll never think about this summer again where he went queer.

The thought of the impending rejection has me manic to push him to a place no one else has ever taken him before. Lust coils tighter in my gut.

He’s grunting and cursing. Twisting my hair into knots as he pulls me into his groin, the clipped hair scraping against my cheek. “Fucking hell, that’s good.Just like that, Fierro.”

At least he acknowledges that it’s me sucking him off.

“Shit. I’m so close.” I know that because he’s grown harder against my working tongue. I get daring, putting my hand down into his opened jeans, finding the sensitive spot behind his sac. One press of my thumb on his taint and he shudders, cursing the air. I laugh around his length and go on when he urges my head to move. There’s no chance this queer virgin has played with his prostate gland, he has no idea how good sex can feel. And as I continue with my mouth/thumb combo, he’s a swearing wreck, all but fucking my face off. He grabs the headrest behind me. Arching over my mouth, I grab his hip with my free hand and roll it up his waist under his shirt. He trembles and thrusts.

He loses it before I’m ready to see him crash and burn.

Finn loses it so spectacularly, I stop breathing to take him in. His pleasure is mine and about the best thing I’ve experienced without my dick being involved.

“What…” he pants when I set him free and let my heavy head crash on the chair behind me, my lungs churning. “What did you do to me, Fierro?” He looks drunk with his lids heavily dragging over his opaque eyes. I grab the bottle of soda on the desk. It’s been sitting out for hours, warm now, but I take a big gulp.

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