Page 28 of Brett and Rowdy
Wanna get naked in bed?
“Hell, yes. Where do you want to go, honey? Couch? Or are you ready to go right to bed?”
Oh, they were on the same damn page. That was helpful.
“I’m a huge fan of exploring your bed, if I’m honest.” He nodded, went for a smile that was more sexual than creepy. “Lead the way?”
“You bet. Do I need to close the dogs in the house?”
“Not unless yours will start howling.”
“With his new buddy to play with? Not a chance. Come on.” Brett took his hand and tucked it into the crook of his arm, learning so well already how to take care with him. “Is this the weirdest thing you’ve ever done?”
“No, not even close.” He had to laugh. “It’s totally a good thing, though. I haven’t been naked in bed with a lover for a while. I am a fan of sex, though.”
“I am too. But I got to admit, it’s usually a quick hookup. I use condoms every time, though, just so you know.” He thought Brett was just trying to make him feel comfortable, so he didn’t chuckle.
They moved down a hall, and Brett paused, he would bet to turn on the light. They stepped through the door, and Brett closed the door behind them before leading him to the bed. “Here, honey. The bed is right next to your right hand, and you’re facing the headboard.”
“Thanks.” He reached out to feel, and it was no surprise that Brett was a quilt man, not a comforter guy. At least for the top layer. Brett had a lot of tradition in him.
Not that he minded a bit of that himself.
“Who made the quilt?” He followed the pattern with one finger, the stitches even and straight. They were in a random pattern, like a meandering car.
“My aunt. She was fond.” Brett’s voice took on a tiny bit of sadness, and he remembered something about breast cancer. Which was not the right note for now, so he let it go.
“It feels amazing.” He sat down and toed off his boots. “I bet you feel better.”
That was clear, right?
“I sure hope you think so.” Brett’s smile was right there in his voice, and he stepped close, giving Rowdy plenty of warning before settling those warm hands on his shoulders. “Can I help?”
“Bring it on. I want you, balls to bones.” He let his body language stay open and eager, relaxed. He wanted this—from the top to the bottom.
“Ditto.” Brett reached up to cup his cheeks, then bent to kiss him again, making him moan and rock on the bed. Then the man started on his shirt.
He wasn’t as stacked as Brett was, but he was confident. He had the body of a man who worked for a living, and he hoped that he still looked as good as he felt.
“Damn.” Brett smoothed his shirt off his shoulders and arms, the sound he made admiring. “You are one hot son of a bitch, honey. I used to think you were amazing in high school, but this is… wow.”
“Thanks.” He grinned, running his hand up Brett’s arm. “You’re stacked to the ceiling, I swear to God.”
“Uh-huh.” Brett flexed for him, and damn if that didn’t make his toes curl.
“Let’s get your shirt off, and then we can start on pants,” Rowdy murmured.
“Sure.” Brett worked buttons, and he explored every inch of skin he could reach as it was bared. Hot. A little fuzzy. Muscles for days.
This was so much better than old memories.
He leaned forward to kiss Brett’s belly once it was free of the cloth, and he had to hum at the flavor of heat and musk and man. Salty and good.
This was a much better place to be than in some loud party with a bunch of folks he didn’t really know.
“Mmm.” Brett’s hand sank into his short hair, rifling through it. “Damn, you… I didn’t remember how amazing your mouth was. I need more of that.”
Brett could have as much of it as the son of a bitch wanted, that was for sure. He wasn’t shy, not a bit. “You got it, man. Just tell me where.”
