Page 72 of The Best Men
I do as I’m told. Suddenly, a cool hand wanders up my inner thigh. A muscular knee presses between my legs. It’s almost rude, the way he’s spreading me open.
Yup. There should be a spreadsheet cell for nudging my knees apart like he owns them. Hell, I might need a whole new tab for the way he’s manhandling me right now.
I wait for the snick of the lube bottle, but it never comes. Has he lost it? I lift my head to look around when suddenly his thumbs spread my ass cheeks apart, and a hungry tongue traces my rim.
My head falls forward as a hot gasp escapes my chest.
But I lose his tongue immediately. And then one of his hands reaches around to clamp over my mouth as his chest covers my back. “Quiet,” he snarls into my ear.
I nearly come on the spot.
He’s braced me with strong arms against his body. My dick is as hard as a telephone pole. And the hiss of his voice in my ear is the sexiest part of all. “Banks. If you make any more noise, I’ll have to take you inside.”
I nod in agreement.
Releasing his hold, he kisses a slow path down my back. I’m vibrating with anticipation as he spreads me apart slowly again. And I stop breathing when his hot mouth finds my hole.
It’s . . . outrageous how good that feels. Slick and dirty. I press my face against my arms and try to breathe instead of moaning. But when he snakes a naughty hand between my thighs to tease my balls, I have to bite my own wrist.
And it doesn’t stop. He licks and teases and tortures me until I’m a damn mess. Until I’m so hard it hurts. But the moment I reach down to try to rub my aching cock, he gives me a single, sharp slap on the ass.
Then he grabs my arm and pulls me up off the chair. “We’re going in,” he whispers. Or maybe I only hear it in my head as he grabs our clothing off the deck and shoves it into my arms, along with my glasses.
I follow him at a fast clip into the house, where he closes the door behind us and orders me onto his bed.
Asher disappears for a moment. I hear water running as I haul the comforter off the king-sized bed and lie spreadeagled on the sheet. My heart is pounding like I’ve run a half marathon, and my cock is heavy like an anvil between my legs.
I’ve never felt more alive than I do right this second.
“Roll onto your side, baby,” he rasps as he returns to the room. “Bend your knee.”
I look up, and there he is in all his muscular glory, and he looks voracious. God, I’m a lucky man. Loopy with desire, I arrange my body the way he’s asked as he sinks onto the bed in front of me. He opens the lube bottle and pours some into his hand. My eyes practically roll back in my head as he reaches around to press the pad of one thick finger against my hole.
“Breathe,” he says.
And I do. But I’m so willing it doesn’t even matter. I bear down on that slick finger and groan with pleasure. The invasion is unfamiliar and it stings a little. And it’s still exactly what I crave.
“Jesus, Banks.” Asher makes a low noise of approval. “You’re magic.”
“More,” I growl, as I shift to my back.
“Patience,” he whispers. Then he leans down and kisses the place where my thigh meets my body. It’s unexpectedly tender, and I shiver from head to toe.
That’s when he swallows my dick in one shocking, well-practiced motion.
My back bows, and I let fly a string of curses. My skin breaks out in a sheen of sweat as Asher gives me a sturdy suck. And when he releases me a few moments later, I practically howl from the loss of his mouth.
“Easy, Banks,” he murmurs. “I’m not done with you yet.”
And he isn’t. As I sprawl on the bed, spread open and panting, he teases my crown and then takes me into his mouth again. His tongue is wicked and weighty against my shaft.
I press my shoulder into the mattress and groan. All my nerves are jumping with electric anticipation. And when I glance down to see Asher’s blond head bobbing between my legs, it’s almost more than I can stand.
Tonight, I’m living someone else’s life—some fun guy’s dream. A secret hookup in balmy Miami. With a guy whose sense of humor I’ve come to appreciate as much as I enjoy his sculpted shoulder muscles and the too-long golden hair at the back of his neck.
I reach down and run my fingers through it, and Asher moans.
That’s another thing my spreadsheet could never capture—this strange bubble of intimacy we’ve created in the tiny guest house. There’s no cell for the way his soft hair sifts between my fingers. Or the wickedly hot view I get next as he tilts up his chin to look me in the eyes.
