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Smooth, Van.
He smiled and sat down beside me. “I tried to be as quiet as I could so I wouldn’t interfere with the muse.”
“You can’t interfere. You’re it.” I smiled back at him, then leaned over for a kiss.
His soft, eager lips met mine, and hell, I could feast on him for days.
Brodie tasted like coffee and mint. I shoved the guitar to the side and took control of the kiss, pushing him down on the sofa and relishing in his husky moan.
“Nice shirt,” I quipped, moving my lips down to tease his neck.
“I figured you wouldn’t mind.”
“Everything I have is yours,” I said as I cupped his face and looked into his luminous eyes.
“That’s a dangerous statement. I might assume that you’re talking about more than clothes.”
“Guess there’s only one way to find out.”
Then, there was no time for talk.
Or music.
Except the pounding rhythm of our heartbeats.
We frantically removed every scrap of material that separated us as fast as we could. Shirts, jeans, and underwear went flying, scattering over the furniture and floor like confetti.
Then Brodie was lying naked underneath me, splayed out like the rock god he was. Black hair disheveled, pink lips glistening, a dappled flush running down his face and chest.
He looked at me like I was the only thing he wanted.
“You are.”
The feverish intensity shifted. Much like the melody in my head, I wanted to touch and taste and savor, to take my time undoing him. To show him that what was happening between us wasn’t just a quick fuck but a long, slow dance.
Brodie licked the palm of one hand provocatively and then slipped it around my dick, around both our dicks, rubbing them together.
God, that felt fucking unreal.
He jacked us off in smooth, practiced strokes as I teased his mouth with soft, languid kisses. Our tongues tangled, exploring, tasting.
I was obsessed with his taste, his kisses, and I wondered how I ever survived without them.
His other hand gripped my ass cheek, then gently slid down the crease. When his finger rubbed over my hole, my entire body jolted.
“Does that feel good?”
I nodded because I was too overcome with my emotions to utter a word.
All I wanted was more. More kisses and touches and, fuck yes, I wanted him to rub my hole like that again.
I’d never played with my ass, even though I was curious about things like rimming. And after having Brodie’s tongue in my ass the other night, I knew I wanted his fingers there too. Maybe even his cock.
But one step at a time.
I rolled over to straddle him and slid my larger hand over his as we jerked off together.
“Fuck, just keep touching me, Van. Don’t stop,” Brodie moaned and bit his lower lip.
