Page 99 of Make the Play
“Freddie,” Jason tries, but Freddie is already turning around clearly realizing there’s a new human willing to baby him. “Careful, Emmy, he’s gonna try to keep you forever now.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad.” Emerson’s little frown is still in place, but Jason can tell from the relaxed tone of his voice that he’s happy, especially when he closes his eyes to rest his forehead against Freddie’s while petting him. “I always wanted dogs growing up, but my aunt and uncle said no. I love dogs.”
They can be yours, Jason almost blurts, unsure if it’s considered love bombing to all but ask your new boyfriend—who you haven’t technically even gone on one date with yet—to move in. He wants to do anything to make sure Emerson knows he’s wanted, to spend as much time as possible with this perfect person who likes his dogs, his family and makes him laugh and smile, makes him so fucking happy he can’t stop smiling.
“What?” Emerson asks.
Jason has the decency to blush at being caught staring.
“You’re just beautiful, I?—”
Stella howls loudly.
“I think someone else needs you,” Emerson points out.
He doesn’t look annoyed or put out, merely watches Jason, while continuing to pet Freddie.
“I’m going to leave this bed, but only because Stella will be unbearable if she doesn’t eat in the next few minutes.” He turns to look at Stella, who doesn’t look at all abashed by the commotion she’s making. He turns his attention back to Emerson, delighted to notice the blankets have been pushed aside by Freddie, revealing Emerson’s upper body. Jason has never wanted to put something in his mouth more than Emerson’s pretty pale nipples, or the flat of his belly or the cock hidden under the sheets that Jason barely got to look at last night. Enough of a peek, at least, that he knows it’s slimmer and smaller than his own and nestled in dark red hair that Jason would do anything,anythingto get his hands and mouth on again.
“You’re staring,” Emerson points out.
“I know,” Jason groans, wishing he had more than his boxers on. Then again, nothing he owns could hide how hard he is right now. “When I come back from feeding these little menaces, I’m going to have my wicked way with you.”
“I don’t know if that was supposed to be a promise or a threat,” Emerson says, the end of his nose crinkling in clear confusion.
“A promise,” Jason clarifies, leaning over Freddie to kiss Emerson’s nose. Since he’s already there, he kisses his mouth too, greedily swallowing down the soft little sigh of contentment Emerson makes. If he fit, he would crawl into Emerson’s lap and rub off on him like they did last night, might even come in his boxers from how turned on he is already. That is, if Freddie didn’t literally jump up between them demanding kisses of his own and letting out a pitiful howl of jealousy.
“He’s so adorable,” Emerson says, kissing the top of Freddie’s head.
Jason wants to cry, though whether from sexual frustration or cuteness he’s not sure. Maybe both. When Emerson flops back on the bed and stretches, kicking the blanket down far enough to expose his sharp hip bones and the trail of red curls, Jason nearly growls. He’s never hated training his dogs to eat on a schedule to help with his morning routine more than he does at this moment, when the only thing he wants to eat is his boyfriend.
Suddenly, he can’t stop thinking about a conversation he had with his brothers and Theo last year about Alec’s protein shakes tasting like ass. His curiosity about how Emerson might taste, along with his eagerness to explore both his newfound sexuality and his boyfriend, has to wait though. At least, until he can feed the two noisy bosses of the house.
“Come on then,” Jason says, clapping his hands and all but leaping from the bed. “Breakfast.”
Not wanting to waste a second, Jason skips coffee and goes straight for the dog food, filling both their bowls then refreshing their water. He also adds a few treats to Stella’s puzzle feeder and leaves two new rawhide bones in front of the fireplace, not above bribing his babies to get some alone time with Emerson.
Quickening his steps, Jason hurries down the hallway and back into the bedroom, shutting the door as quietly as possible. When he turns to face the bed, it’s to find Emerson’s long arms and legs outstretched across the bed, his face shoved in the pillow and his bedhead standing every which way. Emerson opens his eyes to stare at him, and something possessive and desperate flares in Jason.
Emerson is in his bed, naked, beautiful and so trusting. That’s his boyfriend. Jason essentially vaults into the bed, the mattress bouncing as he climbs over Emerson and kicks the blankets off, eager to get his eyes on all of Emerson’s gorgeous skin. His cock is half-hard, laying against his slim thigh and Jason reaches for it, little shivers of pleasure at how easily it fits in his own large hand. He gives it a cursory stroke and groans at the way it feels to have another man’s dick hardening in his palm.
“So you were serious before,” Emerson gasps.
“I mean everything I say,” Jason reminds him, nuzzling into Emerson’s neck and mouthing at his throat. “Can I have my way with you? I want to see what you like. I want to learn how to make you feel good.”
“Yes,” Emerson shudders, spreading his legs wide. “Oh.”
He’s fully hard now, still smaller than Jason, the perfect size for Jason to jerk off. He gives it a few more lazy strokes, staring between their bodies as he watches the way Emerson’s cock—flushed such a pretty pink and leaking—looks every time it peeks through his fist.
“I wanna do everything with you,” Jason confesses, more turned on than he thought possible from staring at a dick that isn’t his own. If he had any doubts about his own sexuality, the desperation he feels to get his mouth on Emerson’s ass and dick would clear it up. He is absolutely, one-thousand percent bisexual. “I want to taste you, everywhere. I want to blow you and rim you and then one day, when you’re ready, maybe fuck you. If you’d like that. I know not all gay men like penetration so if you don’t, that’s okay. There’s something called intercrural that would be fun and?—”
“Jason,” Emerson groans, his delicate fingers curling tightly in Jason’s hair.
Jason lets Emerson pull his head back, tearing his eyes away from Emerson’s pretty cock to look at his equally pretty face. “Yeah, Emmy?”
“If you keep talking about those things, I’m going to come.”
“I want you to come,” Jason says.
