Page 109 of Outcast
His breath caught. “Then keep kissing me.”
“With pleasure.” I took his mouth again, plunging my tongue inside and savoring his moan. Emory arched beneath me, his hard cock grinding against mine.
We fumbled with our clothing, clumsy and awkward as we raced to get naked, and I grabbed the lube from the bedside table. I slicked our cocks, then went back to kissing him, burying my slimy fingers in his hair.
“Now,that’swhat I call a good morning.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE
Emory
Gray invitedme to shower with him since we had the house to ourselves. I was happy he had because I didn’t know when we’d get another chance. I was still nervous about inviting him to my place. Could I explain away his presence if someone noticed? Maybe, but I didn’t want to test the theory.
He led me to the same bathroom on the main floor where he’d blown me before dinner.
“Holden has the only private bathroom. He took our parents’ old bedroom with the en suite. To be honest, I don’t much want to use it, even though it’s probably roomier.” He shuddered. “Seems weird.”
I chuckled. “Good thing I don’t mind being close to you.”
He leaned into the shower to turn the single knob, then sent me a grin. “Very good thing. This shower is tiny.”
There was no need to undress, given we’d come straight from bed. He stepped into the shower, and I followed, letting my gaze wander from the breadth of his shoulders to the dip in his lower back, to the tight, muscular curve of his ass and thighs.
He had more ink on his back that I hadn’t gotten a good look at before. A pair of what looked like doves perched on one shoulder blade with two names across the branch beneath: Liam and Clara Marsh. In the middle of his back, a phoenix with rainbow-colored plumage rose from the ashes. There were other tattoos that seemed more like decoration, black-and-white flowers with thorns, a vine that snaked around his ribs, the moon and a sprinkling of stars on his upper left shoulder.
Then I spotted the tattoo just above his left ass cheek and busted out laughing. “Oh my god, what is this?”
Gray turned with a soapy sponge in his hands. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“That tattoo?—”
“I’ve got so many. They kind of blur together.”
He started washing my chest, but I was onto him. He was trying to distract me. The sponge ran over my nipples, and damn, okay, that was almost working.
He leaned in to brush his lips against mine, and I let him play his game because I wasn’t a strong enough man to resist. He worked the sponge down my stomach, then circled around toward my back.
The shower was small enough we had only inches between us, and soon we were plastered together, skin slipping and sliding, kissing until my head spun.
We’d just had sex, or I would have been falling to my knees. I pulled back to catch my breath.
“A naked dude on a motorcycle. Really?”
Gray used the showerhead to rinse away suds. “I don’t suppose you’d forget you saw that?”
“No, and before you try to distract me again, I don’t think it’s possible for me to get off again right now.”
He laughed. “Okay, fine. I was eighteen, and I was feeling rebellious over the whole outing and disowning bullshit with my foster dad and I wanted something that screamed, I’m gay and I don’t give a fuck who knows it.”
“And so you went for a naked guy instead of, like, a Pride flag.”
Gray snorted. “I was young and dumb and?—”
“Full of cum,” I said with him, chuckling. “Fair enough. Your other tattoos are in much better taste.”
“Thankfully,” he said.
“I was wondering about these birds on your shoulder.” I turned him so that I could brush my fingers over the ink. “Liam and Clara are your parents?”
