He swallowed and clenched at the same time. Sure, he’d seen all of Colt when they were teenagers, but fully grown, after all the awkwardness of youth and puberty had given way to experience and maturity, Colt was a thing of beauty. There should be a marble statue of him in the Louvre.
“I think you like what you see.” Colt’s voice was husky and sent a fresh wave of shivers over Mason’s skin.
“Was there ever any doubt?” Mason held his hand out, beckoning.
Colt flashed a shy smile before joining him on the bed and lying down beside him. Mason marveled for a second at how natural and right it felt to be with him again. Like this. As though all the years apart, after learning what his dad had done to divide them, the hurt and anger and pain they’d carried for it, had faded into decades-old memory and there was only the here and the now and the reclaiming.
Mason leaned forward and pressed his mouth lightly to Colt’s lips. A soft caress that saidI’ve missed you. His body hummed as Colt slid a hand to the back of Mason’s neck and deepened the kiss. Mason opened for Colt, who wasted no time diving in and claiming him. And he eagerly gave in to it.
Mason rocked his hips forward, hard flesh grinding over hard flesh, and then reached down between their undulating bodies and took Colt in hand. The velvet heat of that heavy, mouthwateringly hard cock burned in his palm. He felt power-high when a soft moan rumbled up from deep within Colt’s chest, followed by a full-body shudder. It was a heady thought, knowing he’d done that. He smiled against Colt’s mouth.
Colt pulled back, breath reedy, and looked at him with equal parts wonder and lust in his eyes.
“We need—”
“There.” Mason waved his free hand in the general direction of the night table on the far side of his bed. “Supplies.”
“Reduced to one-word sentences already?” Colt grinned as he draped himself over Mason to reach for the drawer. Mason ignored him and bit at Colt’s shoulder, his biceps, the tender area on the side of his rib cage. Anywhere he could reach from his pinned position.
Colt straightened up and sat back on Mason’s thighs, out of reach from his nips. Colt’s gaze didn’t waver as he ripped the foil packet open with his teeth.
“Let me.” Mason took the condom from Colt and, with shaking hands, rolled it down Colt’s length. He gave Colt’s balls a caress and squeeze, earning a groan and a toothy nip on his chin, and then Colt used his knees to spread Mason’s legs wider.
With skilled, lube-slick fingers, Colt worked Mason open with a care and tenderness that made Mason’s throat tighten and the backs of his eyes sting. A long-forgotten dream coming true threatened to overwhelm him.
“Ready?”
I’ve always been ready. But Mason didn’t say that out loud. Couldn’t. Instead, he nodded.
He sucked in his breath as Colt guided himself into him. He was thick, thicker than Mason was expecting, even though he’d just seen him, had him in his hand, in his mouth, and his eyes watered as he accepted the glorious pleasure-pain burn of the first breach. And then Colt was fully seated inside him. He paused, his gaze intense, arms trembling as he held himself above Mason, and Mason’s heart ricocheted in his chest like an electrified pinball.
He’d never thought he’d see Colt again, and when he did, he’d never thought they’d end up here. But now, with Colt’s body staking claim on his, all he could think wasyou’re mineandI’m never letting you go.
He shivered. Coltwashis. Always had been, always would be, no matter what happened when this was over and they came to their senses.
“Move,” he gasped. He didn’t want to think anymore. Just feel. “Fuck me like you mean it.”
“I’ll always mean it with you,” Colt whispered, and his eyes widened slightly. As if he hadn’t meant to say that.
Colt broke eye contact and began to rock in and out in slow, short strokes. His hand on Mason’s throbbing cock mimicked the motion—up and down, slow and firm—until Mason was a writhing mass of nerves and sensations and felt like he was going to explode.
Together, they moved as one. Bodies undulating in perfect unison, glistening with sweat. Breaths rapid and shallow but still reaching into the corners of Mason’s bedroom and echoing back. Grunting with exertion. It was everything Mason had dreamed of and more than he could have ever imagined.
Colt drove him higher and higher, racing to the edge of a cliff like a stampeding herd of buffalo, until he came with such blinding force he swore he couldn’t see for a full minute after. Sweat dripped from Colt’s nose onto his cheek, his gaze hot and intense, as if he could see into the depths of Mason’s mind, his heart. And then Colt’s eyes rolled back, the veins in his neck pulsed in stark relief over strained, corded muscle, and Mason swore Colt’s shout as he came carried all the way to Havenridge.
Colt collapsed beside him and rolled to his back, their bodies slick where they touched, shoulder to hip to feet. When Mason could breathe again, he turned his head toward Colt.
“I swear. If you start going on about this being a mistake again . . .”
Colt ran a finger over Mason’s jaw, his eyes soft and dazed. “Might not have been the smartest thing to do.” He paused when Mason frowned and furrowed his brows. “You’re a client, which makes this a complication. But definitely not a mistake.”
Mason searched his eyes and saw only truth. Satisfied, he smiled and tucked into Colt’s side. He meant to say more, to talk about where they went from here, but Colt’s chest was far too comfortable a pillow. Sleep took him before he could shuffle the words around into a coherent sentence.
Colt woke the next morning pressed against Mason’s lithe body. For a second, panic laced through him. He shouldn’t have let his emotions take over, or his dick, rather, but there was no way he’d regret it. He’d never been able to fully excise Mason from his heart, where a tiny kernel had always lain in wait. But opening that up again, falling in too deep with Mason now, could cloud his judgment and put Mason in unnecessary danger. He closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of the man he’d never been able to truly get out of his system. And never should have had to try to in the first place. No . . . This was right.
Last’s night revelations had rocked him, and regret poked at him for how he’d ever believed Grant Hayes’s lies to begin with. Well, he hadn’t, not at first. The second-guessing had come after Mason had gone radio silent and Colt questioned himself, wondering if he’d been remembering their history through rose-colored glasses. He would never have believed Grant otherwise.
His brothers though, they were going to kill him for getting involved like this. On a professional level, he knew he should step back now. That his brothers and Nick would demand it, but there was no way he could. Not now. Mason was too important to him. Always had been if he was being honest with himself. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust his brothers or Nick to keep Mason safe, but thathecouldn’t leave Mason’s safety to anyone but himself.
