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I grab his hand. He looks down at our linked fingers with an awestruck expression like he’s just witnessed something incredible in real time.
I squeeze his hand, and he squeezes mine back.
On the corner of the street, he jumps on my back and wraps his arms around my neck. His breath moves over my ear while he murmurs into my ear, describing all the dirty things he’s going to do to me once we get back to the hotel.
The receptionist sends us a startled look when we burst through the door. Lake’s hands slide down my back at the elevator banks, and he kisses me again.
Once we’re inside the elevator, he leans against the wall and pulls me toward him by hooking his fingers into the waistband of my jeans. He doesn’t kiss me, though. He just looks at me as the floor numbers change one after the other.
The elevator dings, and he takes my hand and pulls me into the hallway, then to our room. Once inside, he leans against the door and smiles at me.
“Thank you,” he says softly.
“For what?”
“For today. For saying you’d take me to New York and for keeping your promise.”
There’s that overwhelming tenderness again. I want to be the one who banishes that surprise from his face. That bewildered look he gets every time somebody actually keeps their promises to him.
He reaches up his hand and slides the pad of his thumb over my lower lip. Then lower. Down the center of my throat and chest. Heat pools in my belly as his thumb skates downward until he reaches my cock. He palms it through the fabric of my jeans and rubs and squeezes the hard length until I can’t think clearly anymore.
I slam my mouth down on his. My tongue swipes over his lower lip, and he opens for me. I moan into his mouth, our tongues battling in a hazy, needy battle for dominance. My heart beats wildly in my chest, and my breath gets stuck somewhere in my throat when I look at him.
It’s like somebody’s taken a flamethrower and lit me up from the inside.
And again, I think we can make it work. Everything else? It’s background noise. It doesn’t matter. But Lake does.
My hand goes to the back of his head, my mouth comes down on his again in a hungry, desperate, greedy kiss. His hands slide underneath my shirt, palms moving over my skin. He moans and pushes his hips forward in a fluid, forceful movement that lines his cock up with mine until we’re rocking against each other in search of more friction.
His hands work my jacket off my shoulders and my T-shirt over my head. We stumble across the room, mouths fused together, discarding clothes right and left. There’s an inferno of hunger in his gaze when he looks at me. It’s a heady feeling being wanted this much.
He sends me a devious grin and pops the button of my jeans open. I suck in a breath when his fingers brush over the front. The zipper drags against my dick, and I close my eyes for a moment while he pushes my pants down to the floor.
He gets back up and takes his sweet-ass time rubbing my cock through my underwear until it’s tenting the front of my boxer briefs obscenely, a wet spot forming where precum is leaking out of the tip.
I’m impossibly hard, and when he flicks one of my nipples, I swear to God, I’m one squeeze of his fist around my cock away from coming.
It’s a predicament that only gets more challenging when he drops to his knees in front of me. I have to squeeze my eyes shut the moment he starts to suck me, because the visuals combined with the sounds he makes are a bit too much after grinding against him for hours at the bar. Plus, there’s nobody quite as skilled at giving head as Lake is.
He slides my cock along his tongue, eyes locked on mine, until the head bumps against the back of his throat. And then he just keeps going. He swallows around me, and my hips hunch forward involuntarily.
“Shit!” I gasp. “Sor?—”
My words are cut off by the groan that escapes my throat. He inhales and my cock slides another inch.
“Oh, fuck!” The words fly out and echo off the sterile walls of the hotel room. He pulls almost all the way off and sucks just the tip. I anchor my fingers in his hair because I’m not sure I’ll stay upright otherwise.
He fucks me with his mouth. That’s the only way I can describe it. My cock hits the back of his throat over and over again until I’m reduced to moans, shots of ecstatic pleasure hovering somewhere in my peripheral.
Another swipe of his tongue.
Another long suck.
I’m close.
I’m so fucking close.
He pulls off and then he’s up on his feet.
