Good boys don’t tease their daddies.
He reached for the sheet covering his semi-hard on and began stroking it to life, looking at the image of Wyatt in that sexy fucking hat. Deciding to bait back, he snapped a picture of his hand over the sheet and sent it.
A second later, Wyatt was calling him on video. John nearly laughed and answered it.
Wyatt’s voice was clipped and low, “Don’t say anything.”
He watched as Wyatt walked through Reyes’s garage and out onto a driveway, his beautiful face illuminated by the sun, his skin sweaty from moving boxes all morning. “Reyes, where’s your bathroom?”
“Yeah, man, straight through the dining room and down the hall on the left.”
“Thanks.”
Wyatt, without looking at the screen, moved quickly through the garage and into the house. John, smiling like an idiot, scrubbed a hand at the back of his neck as Wyatt made it to the bathroom, closing and locking it behind him.
Panting, Wyatt finally looked at the screen—at him, their eyes locked. “Fuck. You kept the glasses on. Thank God.”
John, pulse racing, watched as Wyatt set the camera down on the bathroom sink and began unbuckling his jeans. Was he really about to…?
“Seriously?” he asked, astounded, watching Wyatt’s fumbling hands over his own jeans, eagerly reaching for himself.
“Seriously,” Wyatt husked. “You started this.”
“Oh, absolutely not,youstarted this.”
“Yeah,” Wyatt let out a tight, suppressed groan, hand fisting around his cock. “I may have wanted to see what you’d do.”
Oh fuck.
He watched the younger man’s primal, unashamed display as he yanked off his hat, followed quickly by his thin white T-shirt, giving John exactly what he wanted.
“Put the hat back on,” John croaked, causing Wyatt to smirk, eyes heatedly glancing back at the screen before slipping the hat on and rotating it backward.
“Good?” Wyatt asked in his low, timbered tone.
“Good,” he panted, desire trickling down his spine like warm water at how much Wyatt seemed to like—no, need—to please him.
“Let me see you,” Wyatt demanded.
John flipped the screen around, pulling back the sheet and revealing his hardening erection.
“No,” Wyatt said breathlessly. “I want to see all of you.”
He shivered at the sexy drawl in Wyatt’s tone, quickly arranging the pillows and sitting back against the headboard, making sure everything could be seen.
“Good?” he asked, settling into the position, refusing to feel self-conscious about how exposed he felt under Wyatt’s scrutinizing gaze. He liftedhis knee, widening his thighs apart and stroking his thick cock in his hand, already beginning to breathe hard.
“Good…” Wyatt horsed out. “Damned good.”
John dropped his head back, eyes low and on Wyatt’s, as they both stroked themselves, looking at each other.
“Talk to me,” Wyatt murmured. It sounded strained and laced with need.
He realized what he was asking, and he expected to feel that flush of embarrassment, but didn’t. Seeing the stark hunger reflected in Wyatt’s expression inflamed him.
“Show me,” John ordered coolly, indicating with a dip of his chin to his cock. Wyatt obeyed immediately, withdrawing himself from his jeans, revealing his beautiful sex, which was already leaking with precum on that perfect, thick tip.
“Good boy,” he hummed, stroking himself in tandem with Wyatt.
