Page 131 of The Fire Line

Jay squeezed. “I want you inside me.” His face was flushed, his pupils dark, his hair spread across the white hotel pillow. The usual humor had disappeared from his expression.

Harris eased his fingers back out and reached for the condom. His slick hands made the wrapper immediately hostile, and after failing at one edge, then the other, he glared at it.

“This packaging is bullshit.”

Jay started laughing.

Harris glared at him, tried again, and finally tore it with his teeth. “Jesus Christ.”

“You do this often?”

Jay was still smiling when Harris caught him firmly by the hip.

“Hands and knees, Navarro.”

The amusement vanished. For one charged second, Jay only looked at him. Then he rolled over and pushed himself onto his hands and knees.

Every useful thought left Harris’s head.

Jay spread his thighs as he settled into position, then looked back over one shoulder. His hair fell across one side of his face.

And his ass—

Christ.

Round, muscular, lifted toward Harris now in a way that made every fantasy he’d had feel laughably inadequate.

Harris put both hands on his hips. The shape of Jay filled his palms. Solid muscle beneath warm skin. Strong thighs braced against the mattress.

Nothing about Jay’s posture was hesitant. He shifted backward until Harris was pressed against him.

Harris’s grip tightened. This was actually happening.

“Tell me if you need me to stop.”

“I will.”

Harris lined himself up and pressed forward.

The first resistance was tighter than he expected.

He stopped immediately. “Jay.”

“I’m fine.”

“That ain’t what I asked.”

Jay looked back at him, breathing harder now. “I want you to keep going.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

Then Jay pushed backward deliberately, taking Harris a little deeper.

“Very fucking sure.”

Harris tightened his grip and moved again, slowly. He slid one hand across the arch of Jay’s lower back and kept the other firmly at his hip, pressing deeper in increments, watching until Jay’s head lowered between his shoulders.