Finally, they reached the doorway to Mason’s room, and Colt spun him around. Colt’s hands snaked up under his shirt, slid over his bare skin with hot, open palms, and Mason thrilled at the thought he’d just been branded with those confident hands.
Colt broke the kiss and gave Mason a little shove. He fell back onto the bed and then propped himself up on his elbows. He grinned up at Colt. Light danced in Colt’s eyes—teasing, imploring—and goose bumps broke out over Mason’s skin. A wave of excited apprehension arced through him.
Though they’d fooled around as kids—a lot, they’d been typical horny teens, after all—they’d never done more than blow jobs and hand jobs. They’d teased each other’s holes with shaky fingers, but that was as far as they’d gone. Mason had dreamed of this moment back then, of taking Colt inside his body, being one with him in the most profound and intimate way. Colt should have been his first, and he Colt’s, and a part of him, the teenager that still lived somewhere inside him, mourned for that precious lost experience.
But right now, this moment, would betheirfirst time, and he would relish every second of their joining bodies. He would cherish every breath and taste and caress. He didn’t know what would happen after tonight, after Colt’s job was over. He didn’t know if there’d be more for them, a future for them, but he would store this magical time in a golden box inside his mind. Forever safely tucked away.
Just in case.
“How do you want me?” Colt asked, his voice rough with need, and pulled Mason from his thoughts.
“I don’t care as long as we’re naked.” Mason sat up to undo the buttons of his shirt and then slipped it off over his shoulders. He tossed it to the floor without taking his eyes off Colt.
“I prefer topping,” Colt said, his breath reedy.
Oh yes, please. Rendered temporarily mute, Mason nodded enthusiastically.
With a hand to Mason’s shoulder, Colt gently eased him down, flat on his back, and then crawled up onto the bed and straddled him. Mason sighed at Colt’s comforting weight trapping his legs.
“Let me,” Colt said gruffly.
He slid his hand down Mason’s bare chest, and Mason’s skin, hypersensitive to Colt’s touch, prickled in its wake. Colt licked his lips as he reached for the top button of Mason’s jeans and then lifted his gaze. Mason watched, trapped in the bright blue oceans of Colt’s gaze, as Colt deftly popped each button open. The corner of Colt’s mouth lifted in a crooked grin as he palmed Mason’s cock through his underwear. Butterflies took flight in Mason’s chest, and his abdominals tightened with anticipation. His breath sped up, sounding too loud and raspy in the quiet of his room.
“Up,” Colt breathed. He, too, sounded like he was on the edge of his control, and Mason smiled at the thought of cool and collected Colt losing it. He wanted to see that. Wanted to experience that. Wanted to be the cause of it.
Mason lifted his hips as Colt hooked his fingers under the band of Mason’s jeans and briefs and pulled them both down his body as one. Mason’s cock sprang free, and he sighed in relief. Finally, he was free of those tight confines. Colt rose and stood at the end of the bed so he could pull Mason’s jeans over his feet and then let the clothing fall to the floor without a glance.
Colt’s gaze raked over him as he lay there, fully exposed and on display, but instead of feeling vulnerable or self-conscious, he felt powerful, wanted . . . desired. He slid a hand down his chest, took hold of himself, and gave a few lazy strokes while Colt watched with rapt attention.
“You are so beautiful,” Colt whispered reverently.
Warmth filled Mason from the inside out, emotion threatened to overwhelm him, and his throat clicked when he swallowed.
Colt knelt back onto the bed and knee-walked up Mason’s body. He enclosed his hand over Mason’s, and together, they stroked him. Mason sucked in a deep breath, and then a low, keening sound drifted from his lungs as he exhaled. His belly quivered.
“I meant both of us naked,” Mason teased, his voice strained.
“Demanding,” Colt chided affectionately.
He let go of Mason’s hand and cock and then leaned down and kissed and licked at the skin below his navel, up his abdomen, swirled his tongue around one hard, peaking nipple and then the other, kissed into the hollow of his throat, over his Adam’s apple, and then gently bit his chin.
“Colt . . .” Mason pleaded. Words were getting harder to form as his blood rushed south. He’d been reduced to sensation, to Colt wrangling him like he was some sort of body whisperer.
Colt sat up, the expression on his face intense. He didn’t even bother with buttons, simply yanked his shirt over his head and tossed it on the floor in one graceful motion. Then he dropped back down to claim Mason’s lips.
It was as though he couldn’t stop kissing Mason, couldn’t get enough of him, and Mason was so on board with that. He couldn’t get enough of Colt either. He felt like he’d been wandering lost in the desert all these years, so thirsty, throat so dry, and every promise of relief in the distance only a mirage. Until now. Until Colt. He feared he’d never get enough to drink.
“Get these off.” He shoved at the waistband of Colt’s jeans, pushing them as far as he could—which wasn’t far enough. He gave a little buck of his hips to get his point across.
Colt growled. “God, Mason. What you’re doing to me . . .”
“Please.” Mason didn’t care one shred that he whined. “You’re the one still half-dressed.”
Colt huffed and slid to the end of the bed again, where he rolled to his feet. He already looked debauched, with his kissed-red lips, eyes alight with desire, and short hair mussed and spiky from Mason’s fingers. He made a show of slowly shucking off his jeans, rotating his hips provocatively until gravity took hold and the material unceremoniously hit the floor.
“Dayum,” Mason mumbled as Colt stood before him in his full glory, letting Mason drink him in. His mouth watered at the tantalizing sight.
Colt’s shoulders were broad, muscles thick and defined, and an image Mason had seen on the internet, of a bare-chested Henry Cavill working out, popped into his mind. Except Colt was like a real-life Superman. A dusting of dark fur fanned out over his pecs, and a finer thatch spread over his lower abdomen to form a thin treasure trail that led to the most gorgeous cock Mason had ever seen. Thick and long and jutting out from between the apex of Colt’s legs like it was reaching for Mason.
