Page 104 of The Gaybor War

"Hm?"

"Kiss me."

My heart immediately attempts to leave my body. There’s no demand in it. No pressure. Just invitation. An invitation I can’t resist.

I roll on my side, telling him yes with my eyes. His hand comes up, light at my jaw, thumb brushing my cheek. His nose bumps mine, and then our mouths meet.

The kiss is slow. Careful. Testing.

And then it isn’t.

It deepens, warm and unhurried, a slide and press and sigh that feels like months of tension finally exhaling. He tastes faintly of mint and margarita and something purely Benji. His fingers curl into my shirt, not pulling, just holding, as though he’s anchoring us both.

When we finally part, our noses brush. His uneven breaths puff across my parted lips. We’re both wearing matching smiles.

"Well," he murmurs. "That seems… promising."

I huff a shaky laugh. "You’re impossible."

"Correct. Isn’t that why you wanted to kiss me so badly?"

I shift closer without thinking. The bed dips. The world narrows to just the two of us. To our shared breaths, the static charge in the air, and my unrelenting hard on.

I need him. I need Benji Stewart as I’ve never needed any man before.

The realization is sobering, but also not terrifying. Just a quiet acceptance that I swallow when our lips touch again. In seconds, I’m lost in him, in the feel and heat of his mouth, his taste, and the tiny moans coming from him when I pull him impossibly closer and suckle his tongue.

"Let’s get you as naked as I am."

Benji wrestles my shirt up and over my head. His warm, solid weight settles over me, his smile softening as his hands skim my chest in a way that feels reverent rather than possessive.

"It’s a shame you keep all this hidden. If I looked like this, I’d never bother with buttons."

"You don’t. Ever."

"Exactly." His mouth curves.

I don’t let him keep talking. I shift forward, catching his lips with mine, silencing him the only way I know how. The kiss turns slower, deeper, less about teasing and more about connection. His answering sigh vibrates against my mouth, his fingers curling into my hair as if he’s anchoring himself there.

"Less talking, more kissing," I murmur against his lips.

Benji seems totally on board with that plan. He works my body over with his mouth, sucking my nipples and bathing them with his tongue. Peppering kisses over my chest and stomach. When he reaches the waistband of my boxers, he glances up with a wicked grin before tugging them down my hips.

A relieved sigh gusts out of him. "Oh sweet Jesus. Thank God your balls aren’t saggy."

"Excuse me?"

"Never mind."

Over his head, I can see his perfect ass wiggling, wrapped enticingly in that dark, sexy underwear. I can’t wait to strip him bare and worship him with my mouth.

His tongue licks over my sac, pulling my attention back to his face. His eyes are closed as if he’s savoring the feel of my balls in his mouth. The sight of him between my legs makes my dick kick in his hand. Benji opens his eyes and locks his gaze with mine. He smiles and gives my shaft a teasing lick. The swipe of his soft pink tongue along my dick makes it hard as steel.

Or maybe it’s that knowing smirk teasing his wet lips.

Benji loves the power he has over me right now. Loves the way my breath stutters when he leans in, the way my hands tighten on his shoulders, how the world seems to narrow until there’s nothing left but the space between us. And I fully believe I’m about to experience the ride of my life.

He dips his head, brushing a slow kiss along my skin, down the inside of my thigh, not rushing, not claiming—just exploring. Every careful touch feels deliberate, as if he’s mapping something he intends to remember.