Wyatt's sucking was excruciatingly slow, matching the pumping of his fingers as each one went in. The stretching felt so good. Sam was ready to lose it.
Indistinctly, Sam heard his own voice as he begged, "Wyatt, please. Please."
Wyatt stopped sucking and pulled off his cock. At the same time, he withdrew his fingers and took in a deep, ragged breath. "I guess you're ready," he said huskily while Sam panted and whimpered with need. He was so ready.
Shivering with unbearable arousal, he watched Wyatt roll on a condom. He used more lube and then got into position while Sam writhed.
Poised to enter him, Wyatt stopped and looked deep into his eyes. "I get to fuck perfection," he said and he grinned at Sam wickedly.
Sam had to laugh but then he gasped as he felt the head of Wyatt's cock at his hole. No, Sam was the furthest thing from perfection. Perfection was Wyatt and what he was doing to him, entering him slowly, filling him up, making him want to say his name loud enough for the whole town to hear.
While Wyatt held his legs out of the way, Sam clutched his muscular ass as he felt him go deep. Sam gasped for breath, so full, so good. As Wyatt pulled back, Sam groaned and rolled his head on the mattress, waiting for the thrust that was to follow.
Wyatt fucked him slowly until Sam couldn't take it any more. He didn't dare touch his cock, or he would be done. He was going out of his mind, clawing at Wyatt's back, his ass. Wyatt kept kissing him, his tongue thrusting, and Sam tasted heaven.
When Wyatt started to speed up, Sam whimpered and shook all over. He looked up at Wyatt, his gaze hot and naked as he moaned shamelessly. Driving inside him harder, faster, calling his name in a guttural voice, Wyatt was getting close.
Sam got there first though. Every muscle tight, holding Wyatt in his grip as ecstasy consumed him, Sam shot over Wyatt's chest and his own, screaming his name.
Growling, hunched over him, Wyatt hammered wildly inside him. He came with a hoarse, low cry of release and grazed Sam's shoulder with his bared teeth.
He collapsed, dropping heavy and hot on top of Sam, who clutched at him, tugged at his hair then pulled him into a kiss. Satisfied and exhausted, Sam didn't know when he fell asleep, only that he did and that Wyatt was right there with him.
Waking up in his narrow bed, wrapped in Wyatt's strong arms, Sam didn't want to move, not ever. But looking at the time, Sam knew he had to. Reaching over to turn off his alarm, he dislodged Wyatt's arms from around him at the same time and heard him groan.
He wanted his hands in Wyatt's hair unruly from sleep. He wanted to wrap himself up in that man, never let him get away, but there he was swinging his legs out of bed.
Though it was early, Sam had to get up and get ready. Last night, he made sure not to leave a mess at the cafe, but there was still a little clean up to be done.
The hard part was tearing himself away from Wyatt in his bed. He hated to wake him, but it couldn't be helped. Sitting on the edge of the mattress, Sam lowered his face to Wyatt's and kissed him gently.
After placing several kisses along his jaw and his throat, he felt Wyatt start to stir and moan, reaching for him. Too bad Sam didn't have time to fall back into bed with him. To get himself away from temptation, Sam stood up so he could gaze at him from a safe distance.
Sighing with regret, he watched Wyatt's muscles flex as he reached up his arms for a stretch. God, Wyatt was beautiful. His dark blond hair was messy, falling over his forehead. His sleepy, blue eyes were half closed.
Every one of Wyatt's muscles was outlined as he turned toward Sam and smiled. He said good morning in a deep voice, husky from sleep. His arm reached out and beckoned Sam to him.
"Time to get up," Sam told him as he evaded his groping hands.
"What are you talking about? It's not even light out," Wyatt complained as he waved his hand in the general direction of the small window.
He was right. There was only the faintest blush of dawn out the window, but that didn't mean that either of them could afford to keep sleeping. "I have to go to work and clean up, and you have to pick up the kids soon," Sam reminded him.
Wyatt sat up and rubbed his face. "I'll help you clean up."
"I'll do it faster if you're not there to distract me," Sam said to him with a smile. "Now I have to go and take a quick shower."
"You need to stop showering without me. And we have to do this again soon," Wyatt told him, his smile wicked, his eyes filled with lust. "Don't make me wait too long."
Holding a towel and a change of clothes, Sam looked back at him from the doorway of his room and groaned. He hated to leave him. All he wanted was to throw himself into Wyatt's arms.
He had to satisfy himself with jerking off in the shower. With his body unsatisfied since last night and his head full of Wyatt, it was quick and dirty. Coming hard left Sam panting and smiling to himself. He felt so stupid and happy, and he had so much to look forward to. Dancing, fucking, whatever they did felt wonderful with Wyatt. Sam never knew things could be so good.
Could this really be his life and not some crazy, rose-colored, impossible dream?
Chapter 19
Every morning Wyatt woke up from some dream of Sam and then groaned in frustration not to find him in the bed beside him. Dreams would have to satisfy him until they could spend the night together again.
