“Like what?” Reece let his hand drop one more inch. “Like one of us is losing his mind thinking of all the ways he’s going to take you apart?”
Grayson’s eyes had gone softer, his gaze on Reece through blond lashes, and the flush on his face had deepened. His chest rose and fell under Reece’s hand with every breath. “Your eyes are pretty,” he said, like a whispered confession. “But tell your empathy it’s wasted on me. There’s nothing to feel.”
Reece leaned in even more, bringing their lips so close together he could imagine the taste of Grayson’s mouth. “How about you let the empath worry about the feelings?”
He felt the ripple in the air as Grayson shivered, and a fresh bolt of desire wove through Reece. He skated his hand down Grayson’s stomach, coming to rest on the waistband of his jeans, and felt Grayson shift again beneath him.
“How about you just focus on letting me make youfeelgood?” he whispered. “Better yet, let me make you feel the best you’ve ever felt in your damn life. Let me burn this truck up finding every little touch that makes your body pant and sweat.”
“I wish I could kiss you.”
Grayson’s breathy words danced over Reece’s lips as Grayson drew back an inch, like he had surprised himself by saying that.
Reece shifted so his mouth was close to Grayson’s ear instead. “I bet your kiss is addictive,” he whispered, moving his hands to the button on Grayson’s jeans. “Bet you’re unbelievable in bed. Bet you show off your strength, give people the night of their lives.”
He popped open the button and Grayson arched, small and constrained so their bodies didn’t touch beyond Reece’s hand. “Bet you know how to use this,” Reece said into his ear, as he inched the zipper down. Grayson grunted in the back of his throat as Reece’s gloved hand dragged over his hard cock on top of the fabric. “And I was right; it’sbig.”
“I’msix-five.” Grayson’s voice was unsteady. “And remember who’s not six-five in this truck.”
“Stop threatening me with good times.” Reece slipped his hand into the open zipper, wrapping gloved fingers around Grayson over whatever briefs or boxers he had on, and the choked-off moan that filled the truck went straight into his bloodstream. “Jesus, the way you’d look with me on your dick. It’d be so fucking tight; I’d make you feel so fucking good you couldn’t talk.”
Grayson’s head fell back against the fogged truck window. “Is this empath dirty talk?”
Reece’s lips curved up. “Damn right it is.”
He lifted his hand just long enough to shove it back down under the elastic band, closing fingers around Grayson’s hard cock. Grayson made the most amazing noise, relief and pleasure and want all wrapped into one.
“This is not a sanctioned use of empath gloves,” Grayson said, his voice cracking.
“I knew something was missing from the owner’s manual.”
Reece ran his fist loosely along his shaft. Grayson made that noise again, and Reece wanted more, more noises, more shivers, more pleasure.
He shifted back on his heels enough that he could watch Grayson’s face, and began to stroke—tighter, slower, tailoring every motion to the symphony of Grayson’s reactions. He didn’t need emotions; he could follow the map in the sounds from Grayson’s mouth, the flush on his cheeks and the fluttering of his lashes, the parting of his lips and the panting of his breath.
He would have given anything to touch him skin-to-skin, to crawl inside him and drink him in. But he wouldn’t have given this up for the world.
Outside the truck, a blue-gray twilight was falling, the impressions of white snow and evergreens beyond the fogged windows fading into the evening. There was the hum of other cars zipping along the highway beyond the trees and the truck’s engine was rumbling still, deep vibrations through the cozy cab, this space they’d carved out for the two of them.
Grayson arched, just an inch, and Reece moved with him, speeding up and watching his eyes squeeze shut, his muscles flex with pleasure.
“You’re close, aren’t you?” Reece whispered, and Grayson groaned. “Fuck, I could come just from watching and listening to you.”
Grayson tilted his head, eyes still tightly closed. “More empath dirty talk.”
“Yeah, but it wasn’t a lie.”
“Maybe not.” Grayson opened his eyes. “But I got another idea.”
And Reece’s world was suddenly spinning as Grayson grabbed him by gloved wrists and tumbled him over. Reece’s back hit the bench seat, hands pinned above his head, and then Grayson was balanced over him, big and warm and close.
“Wha—” Reece started helplessly, his brain still buzzing from the manhandling and the closeness.
Grayson let his hands go, and then a moment later, something stroked firmly over his dick.
Reece sucked in a breath as pleasure ricocheted through him and he arched up automatically into the touch. “Holy shit,” he panted, looking down his body. “How—”
“Your empath gloves are made with heavy metals. And here we got a metal zipper.” Grayson ran his thumb up Reece’s hard length again, tracing the zipper, and Reece groaned. His hands scrabbled uselessly against the backseat as Grayson did it again, and again.
