“I do…along with my Killinger jersey signed by you, and the poster—and your hockey card.”
He watched Harrison’s lips slightly part in shock.
“I never got the card signed,” Jett added. “If you could do that for me when we go to Dad’s tomorrow, that would be great. Then my shrine will be complete.”
He wasn’t prepared for the feeling of Harrison’s fingers digging into his ribs: his one weak spot.
Jett shrieked and tried to escape the brutal tickling, but he was trapped in a reclining chair with no way out. He smacked a hand on Harrison’s face like that would be the move to save him from the torture, but he overbalanced, and in one fell swoop, the chair tipped backward and toppled to the floor with a crash.
Harrison grunted under him when he scrambled to safety, moving too fast to be caught by flailing hands. They were laughing and trying to stand up, but Harrison was tangled in the cord from his heating pad, effectively stuck.
“Don’t tickle me and I’ll help you up,” said Jett.
Harrison groaned, his face red from where Jett had smacked him in his panicky state. “If you don’t help me up, then you’re not getting sex.”
Fuck. Okay, he hadtwoweak spots.
“Fraser, the blood is rushing to my headhere—”
“Hold on, you big baby.” Jett grabbed the back of the chair, and even though there was 230 pounds of muscled man sitting in it, he easily flipped it up, nearly sending Harrison careening out of it.
“Christ, Jett.”
“Sorry!” Jett pushed the chair out of recline and helped Harrison stand, checking him to make sure he wasn’t hurt. “I didn’t mean to shoot you out of it like a cannon.”
Harrison scooped him into his arms and kissed him, stalling all further thoughts racing inside his head. He clung to Harrison’s large frame, moaning loudly into the sudden kiss, attacking his boyfriend’s mouth like he was starving for it.
Jett tugged on silky black hair, and a thrill of delight swept through him when Harrison groaned against his lips. Curious, he tugged harder and was rewarded with a feral sound bordering on a growl.
Harrison drew away from the kiss and looked at him with dark, hungry eyes. “Bed. Now.”
Jett hurried to comply, tearing his shirt off on the way to their room and tossing it in the hamper so he wouldn’t get in trouble later. He rolled his eyes when he heard the sound of Harrison tidying their plates and turning the TV off like the neat-freak he was, but he knew if he complained, he would be forced to wait even longer.
Jett hooked his thumbs under his waistband and was about to pull them down when movement outside the window made him pause. His eyes weren’t properly adjusted to the darkness in the room or outside, but he could have sworn…
There was another small flicker of movement in the shadows, and then nothing.
Scowling, Jett stomped over to the window and yanked the curtains closed so he didn’t have to look at the forest and its creepy shadows.
“Stupid haunted house,” he muttered, returning to the task of getting naked as fast as possible.
“It’s not haunted,” said Harrison’s voice behind him, and Jett cursed and spun around to glare in his direction.
“Not haunted, myass,” Jett countered.
Harrison folded his arms, leaning on the doorframe arrogantly. “You and yourassbetter get on the bed unless you want it spanked.”
Arousal overtook the rest of his system, and Jett forgot all about the shadow lurking in the woods.
“Is that a threat, Grumbles?”
The corner of Harrison’s mouth kicked up. “No, Sunshine. That’s apromise.”
Harrison
Harrison smirked over the rim of his coffee cup at Jett, who was grimacing in his seat from across the table. He didn’t know why his pretty boyfriend was so irritated with him. Harrison’s hand was stinging just as much as Jett’s ass was from the spanking the night before.
Equivalent exchange and all.
