Page 182 of The Fire Line

Harris knew his reactions well enough that he no longer needed much guidance. He saw the slight tightening around Jay’s eyes when something pulled, the way his shoulders dropped when the pressure became pleasure, the parting of his lips when Harris found the angle that made thought briefly inaccessible.

Jay pulled him closer by the back of the neck. “Come here.”

Harris positioned himself between his thighs. The first pressure made Jay inhale sharply, and Harris stayed still until the tension left his body. When Jay tipped his hips toward him, Harris pushed farther in, slowly enough to feel Jay yielding around him a little at a time.

By the time Harris was fully inside, their faces were only inches apart.

He didn’t move.

Jay opened his eyes, and for several breaths they simply looked at each other.

Harris had been inside him before. He knew the heat and tightness of his body, knew how easily Jay could turn sex playful or filthy or competitive when that was what he wanted. Tonight none of that seemed necessary.

Jay touched the back of his neck and drew him forward until their foreheads met.

Harris began to move.

Slowly at first, withdrawing almost completely before pressing back in with the same measured depth. Jay’s legs tightened around him. Harris kissed him between strokes, sometimes his mouth, sometimes the corner of it or his cheek when neither bothered correcting the angle.

Every adjustment carried knowledge they had not possessed a week earlier. When Harris’s ribs protested, Jay shifted without being asked and took some of his weight. When Jay’s shoulder tightened, Harris changed the angle immediately. Neither commented on it.

Tenderness had always made Harris feel exposed. Tonight he stopped trying to protect himself from it.

Jay’s hands moved slowly over his back as though memorizing him. Harris felt the intention in the touch and drove deeper before he could think too much about why.

Jay’s breath broke against his mouth.

“Harris.”

Harris kissed him.

Jay said his name again, softer this time, and something inside Harris gave way.

He slowed instead of speeding up, unwilling to let urgency steal any part of it. Jay seemed to understand. He held Harris closer, one hand buried at the nape of his neck while their bodies moved together with a rhythm that felt less like chasing pleasure than resisting the end of it.

Harris knew what tomorrow meant. The equipment would disappear, Jay’s room would empty, and the production van would turn down the ranch road and keep going.

He kept his attention on the body beneath him instead. Jay tightening around him. Jay’s mouth against his. Jay alive and warm and here.

Harris’s control finally began to break. Jay felt it and pulled him closer rather than letting him hide his face. Their foreheads touched again as Harris’s rhythm roughened, the careful pauses disappearing until Jay was breathing hard beneath him.

Harris reached between them, and Jay’s hand closed over his, holding it there while Harris stroked him in time with the movement of his hips.

Jay came first, his body tightening around Harris as his name left him on a broken breath. The sensation pulled Harris after him almost immediately. He drove deep and stayed there, Jay’s arms wrapped around him while the tension moved through both of them.

Neither let go when it was over.

* * *

After Harris dealt with the condom, he came back and lay facing Jay.

Their legs remained tangled beneath the sheet. Harris’s bandaged hand rested between them, and Jay traced one finger along the edge of the dressing before leaving his hand there.

Usually one of them would have said something by now. Tonight they simply looked at each other.

Harris’s expression changed.

Jay saw it happen in the small tightening of his fingers and the way his eyes held Jay’s without retreating.