Lincoln’s smile brushed Carter’s lips. “I actually got better with age. All that practice singing Elena to sleep.”
Carter froze, then put enough distance between them to look Lincoln in the eyes, to let him know that he understood and respected the place Elena held in Lincoln’s life. “When you’re ready, I’d like to meet her.”
Lincoln’s smile grew wider. “Good, because I told her we’d all have dinner together tomorrow. Or rather, today, now. Trina’s coming too. They’ll embarrass us both, fair warning.”
“I can’t wait.”
Any lingering doubts Lincoln had about upsetting the balance of his family vanished at the eager smile that stretched across Carter’s face. He was telling the truth. He wanted to meet Elena, Trina, Gabby too eventually, and Lincoln was sure he’d fit in perfectly with them. Probably to Lincoln’s own disadvantage—the gang-up would be epic—and he couldn’t wait.
“Thank you,” Lincoln said, infusing all the appreciation and happiness he felt into those two words.
“God, you’re beautiful,” Carter whispered, the adoration and awe in his voice sending heat rushing to Lincoln’s cheeks. He didn’t bother to hide it, letting Carter see the emotions he stoked in him. And stoked higher as he skated a thumb over Lincoln’s cheek.
To the point of breaking.
Lincoln groaned and brought his mouth down on Carter’s, hard and desperate. Carter moaned in answer, needy to match, and drove a hand into Lincoln’s hair, angling his mouth for more. Lincoln gave him everything he had, likewise wanting everything he’d missed over the past three months, wanting everything ahead of them still. Including the arousal that was nudging the underside of his balls. He broke the kiss, reached behind him to push the chair out of the way, and tipped backward.
“I’m counting on that arm to be healed and to catch me before I splat on the floor.”
“It’s carpeted, and you are not exactly at splat distance.”
“Technicalities.”
Laughing and kissing, they inclined backward, Carter bracing a hand on the floor and using the other to lower Lincoln onto his back. “There. Splat avoided.”
“My savior.” Lincoln yanked Carter’s shirt off in thanks, wrestled out of his own, then, hands on Carter’s impressively ripped flanks, drew Carter down on top of him. He hissed at the solid warmth pinning him to the floor, at the enticing friction of Carter’s thick, dark chest curls against his nipples. Torture and ecstasy at being skin to skin, at how much better it was than any of his fantasies. Than even their last, chaste night together in Apex. It was what they’d needed then; this was what they needed now.
Carter braced a forearm on either side of his head, sinking more fully against him and purring.
“Did you forget which of us is the cat in this relationship?” Lincoln teased.
Carter threaded his fingers through Lincoln’s hair, and Lincoln nudged against the gentle touches, chasing after them. “Oh, I remember,” Carter said. “And you are a gorgeous house cat, even when pissy. Which I promise you won’t be when I’m done with you tonight.”
Lincoln hooked his legs over his hips and rocked up against him. “You’re still insufferably cocky.”
Carter’s top teeth dug into his bottom lip, half grimace, half grin. He let a slow breath out, then slid his erection against Lincoln’s, teasing them both. “Well, if we’re being literal.”
Lincoln smiled wide, basking in their banter, the physical and verbal. “Future librarian.”
“I have a better demonstration in mind.” Carter lifted enough to work their zippers open, their erections free, and held them in his fist together, Carter’s hot, hard length trapped against his own. “Cocky would be me, taking our cocks in my hand . . .” He stroked them once, twice, and Lincoln bowed off the floor. Hot breath, hot words next to his ear. “And promising to get you off in less than five minutes.”
Lincoln keened, riding the wild edge of desire. Hanging on as long as he could, hands tangled in Carter’s hair, as the cocky asshole nipped down the column of his throat, teased the divot at the base of his neck, then flattened his tongue over one then the other nipple. Taking the left one between his teeth, worrying it, as he increased the speed of his hand shuttling up and down their cocks, Carter’s hard length trapped against his own. Bringing Lincoln right to the edge, then sending him toppling over when he released the worried nipple to drop a tender kiss over his heart, next to their rings.
Carter’s trembling body drew him out of the post-coital haze. Laughter. “I think you made it to four, Professor.”
Using his hands still in Carter’s hair, Lincoln yanked him up, kissed him hard, and pushed off with his left foot, flipping their positions. He broke the kiss, smiling victorious. “I’ll get you off in three.”
It took a half minute to get them fully undressed, a minute to get the condom on Carter and work himself open, sitting astride Carter’s thigh, spreading the lube he’d brought around and in his hole, watching Carter’s flush grow deeper, his breaths shorter, his cock harder. Another ninety seconds to sink onto Carter’s cock, to groan out the satisfaction with him, to lean forward and seal their lips, to press back into Carter’s hands that grabbed his ass, to ride him until he came with a shout that was sure to wake the neighbors.
Sweaty and spent, Lincoln fell forward, face in the crook of Carter’s neck. “Three, baby.”
“Maybe we’ll make it to ten next time.” Laughing, Carter rolled them onto their sides, his cock slipping out and his back to the fire, Lincoln against his front. After another minute of their contented purring, Carter drew back, his gaze drifting over Lincoln’s shoulder toward the kitchen. “Did I smell biscuits when I walked in?”
“Barry’s recipe.”
Green eyes shot back to his. “He gave it to you? Wait!” Aghast, he drew back farther. “You can bake?” Lincoln waggled his brows, and Carter laughed out loud. “Now who’s cocky?”
Lincoln trailed a line of kisses across his chest. “You’re going to have to get up and get them, though. I’m forty-two and just had sex on the floor. I need recovery time, and I don’t just mean my dick.”
