Page 27 of The Last Guy On Earth
It takes Clay a moment to absorb this. And then horror blooms inside his heart. “Christ. I’m so sorry. I had no idea. That’s… that’s not how I think of you.”
Jethro scrubs at his face. “But you’re kinda right. The Jack is, like, part of a story I tell myself. Two lonely guys having some ‘whisky and frisky.’”
Clay barks out a laugh. “That’s an expression?”
Jethro shrugs. “I heard it once. Sounded familiar.”
Clay’s heart sinks a little more. “So, like, it’s something you do when there aren’t better options.”
“Hell.” Jethro’s expression turns uncomfortable. “That’s not what I meant, okay? But that’s how it started.”
Relief washes over Clay. It’s not exactly a declaration of love, but he can work with this. “Fair enough,” he says. Then he calmly takes off his shirt and tosses it onto his open suitcase. It’s satisfying to watch Jethro’s green eyes sweep over his body. “SoI guess it’s your call,” Clay says. “If you can handle thefriskywithout thewhisky. Just let me know.”
Having said his piece, he gets up and heads for the bathroom to brush his teeth. He avoids looking in the mirror, so he won’t have to lock eyes with his own desperation.
Pretty soon he runs out of things to do in the bathroom, so he turns off the light and emerges into darkness.
His heart leaps when he sees that Jethro is lying onClay’sbed. And he’s buck naked, stroking his erection with lazy fingers.
God, the sight of him. All tight pecs and long legs. His shaggy hair on the pillow. It makes Clay bold. Instead of just sliding onto the bed beside him, he kicks off his clothes. All of them. Then he puts a knee on the mattress and swings his body onto Jethro’s, straddling him.
Jethro goes perfectly still as Clay seats himself carefully, his cock already full mast and lining up with Jethro’s. Clay can’t help but admire their two lengths lined up together. What a sight.
Nobody says a word, and Clay is barely even breathing, until Jethro’s hand closes around their cocks, making Clay hiss.
“Do you know,” Clay asks in a husky voice, “that you’re really fucking hot?”
Jethro’s eyes widen. Because this is new, too. Theyneverspeak when they’re together. But now he gazes up at Clay with heavy-lidded hunger, and slowly drags his palm over their cockheads.
Enchanted, Clay bends down and bites Jethro’s nipple, causing him to gasp. He’s already cottoned on to how sensitive Jethro is there. So he laves the puckered skin with his tongue, and Jethro groans.
Clay is on fire. His own nipples are tight, and his balls are already starting to ache as Jethro strokes them with his long fingers. Clay plants his fists on the bed, thrusting into Jethro’s hand, and staring down at his pouty lips.
It’s just too much. Too perfect. That must be why Clay throws caution to the wind, leans down, and kisses Jethro hotly on the mouth.
Jethro makes a shocked noise, and Clay would worry he’d fucked things up again, except Jethro gets over his surprise in the span of a heartbeat. He licks into Clay’s mouth and pulls him down onto his chest.
Clay can’t even believe his good fortune. Jethro’s hands are everywhere, and Jethro’s tongue is in his mouth.God, the taste of him. Clay is drowning in the glory of it all.
Until Jethro breaks their kiss, which makes Clay whine. But the goalie has a plan. He licks his palm and slides it back onto their cocks. Then he pushes his feet down on the bed and grinds his hips upward.
The next couple minutes are a little rough and a whole lot sexy. It’s a hot, dirty grind that leaves Clay panting and nearing the limits of his patience. He gives Jethro the wettest, dirtiest kiss he can manage, because he’s going to come. Right now, actually. He holds back a moan as he shoots into Jethro’s hand and all over his cock.
“Fuck,” Jethro groans into his mouth. Then he shudders, and Clay feels the heat of his seed as it joins the party. It’s the dirtiest, best thing he’s ever felt.
With a gasp, Clay shoves his face into Jethro’s neck, enjoying the scrape of whiskers on his forehead. Jethro smells like shower soap and heated skin. Clay plants a single, sweet kiss on his neck while their hearts pound in perfect time with one another.
Not wanting to push his luck, he lies very still. And he wonders how long he can stay right here before Jethro comes to his senses and leaves him alone in his bed again.
THIRTEEN
Jethro
Christmas Eve arrivesat the Four Seasons in Denver. There’s an impressive tree in the lobby, with soft white lights and shiny ornaments. There’s also a special menu in the hotel restaurant, featuring a choice of Lobster Thermidor or filet mignon with a king crab crust and a roasted beef demi glaze.
“What the heck isthat?” Toby demands.
“It’s a steak,” I say quickly. “You’ll love it. It probably comes with mashed potatoes, right?” I prompt the server.
