Funny thing, considering they’d just beat feet for ten freaking miles. He should’ve been exhausted, ready to sit down, to rest, but oh, no. His body’s natural response to Brantley’s naked form was to stand tall and take notice, which made it impossible to resist the man. And Brantley knew it, too.
Rather than give Brantley what he so obviously wanted, Reese decided to sulk a little more, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the counter openly ogling all that sleek, toned flesh.
Christ, the man looked good wet.
“You can keep watchin’ if you want. But you’re still gonna get in here with me.”
“That so?”
Brantley smiled.
Damn him.
Reese stood his ground, arms crossed, wondering when the hell he’d become so damn easy. At one point in his life, he could’ve resisted any woman on the planet for as long as necessary.
Then again, Brantley wasn’t a woman, and no woman had ever turned him on like this man could.
It shouldn’t have surprised him that Brantley would pull out the big guns, planting one hand on the tiled wall and gripping his cock in his fist, stroking slowly, steam beginning to drift up, molding to his ridiculously nice body.
They were at a standoff, and there was no doubt in Reese’s mind who would win, but for the time being, he was going to hold out for as long as—
Ah, hell, his cock was so hard it hurt. But he was stronger than that damn appendage, damn it. He would just focus on…
Brantley’s big, bulging biceps…
Those thick shoulders…
Rippling pecs…
Washboard abs…
Fuck me, I’m doomed.
As if he could sense Reese’s ongoing mental battle, Brantley turned, relaxing back against the wall, jerking his cock more firmly, his chest and arm muscles flexing.
For fuck’s sake.
“Fine,” Reese bit out as he shoved away from the sink. “You win.”
“I know I do. Now strip and get your fine ass in here.”
It wasn’t the fastest he’d ever disrobed, but it was damn close. And then he was in the shower, beneath the hot spray, chest pressed up against Brantley’s, their mouths fusing together.
And just like that, all was right in the world. The fog from sleep, the exhaustion from their run, even the damn guilt Reese had been battling as of late faded away like mist, and his brain and body came alive. All of that thanks to Brantley’s skilled hands as they traveled urgently over his back, gliding effortlessly down to his ass, gripping firmly, teasingly.
“Do you know how hard it is to resist you?” Brantley mumbled against his mouth.
Oh, he had some idea, but Reese asked the question anyway. “How hard?”
Reese cocked his head to the side when those firm lips went on a sensual journey along his jaw.
“I could fuck you ten times a day,” Brantley growled softly against his skin.
“Could you?”
“Easy.”
“What stops you?”
“Don’t wanna scare you off.”
Reese moaned when Brantley sucked on his neck. “Think we’re long past … can’t scare … fuck.” He leaned in to get closer. “Don’t stop doin’ that.”
His eyes rolled back when Brantley continued to lick and suck the sensitive skin beneath his ear.
“I could do this all damn day. Every. Fucking. Day.”
And Reese could let him because he wasn’t sure anything had ever felt so good, so right. The man had the ability to soothe him in ways he’d never experienced, and he did so simply by being there.
“I want you,” Brantley continued. “Want to taste you, touch you … fuck you…”
Reese groaned, not caring that he was so fucking easy when it came to this, to him. Everything about this man made him feel wanted, desired. Safe.
It was then, as he slid his arms around Brantley’s back, holding tight, that he realized Brantley was his safety net. The one thing he could hold on to and manage to remain upright, both literally and metaphorically. When it had happened, he didn’t know, and whether or not it was a good thing was something he would have to think long and hard on, but not here, not now.
Shifting, he cupped Brantley’s cheek, urged his head back up, so their mouths melded together once more, and he leaned into him, getting lost in him.
“I love you,” he whispered when their lips parted.
It felt good to tell him that.
Brantley pulled back, his hands sliding over the sides of his face and holding his head. Their gazes met, held. “Love you right back.”
Oh, yeah, he could get lost in those blue-gray eyes, that raspy, dark voice, the strong, skilled hands.
And once again, they were leaning in, tongues twining, the pace leisurely.
Hands stroked, wet skin against wet skin.
As much as he wanted this to last all day, they did have to get to work, had things to accomplish. And right now, slow became counterintuitive to what his body needed. Soft moans became louder, more guttural, laced with an eager desperation.
“My turn,” Reese said firmly, sliding his hand into Brantley’s hair and tugging so his head shifted back, their eyes met.
“Your turn,” Brantley whispered, his surrender insanely hot.
All thought ceased, and sensation took over as Reese took control, turning Brantley around, working them both into a frenzy with roaming hands. He teased Brantley with probing fingers until the man was begging for more. Because he demanded so nicely, Reese gave him more, sliding deep inside him.
“Christ…” Brantley planted his palms against the tile, pushing back against him. “Fuck me, Reese. Fuck me hard. You feel so … damn … good.”
Brantley always said shit like that, and in the beginning, Reese had thought they were simply filler words. A plea to get him to hurry up, move things along. But he realized that wasn’t the case because Brantley never tried to rush him. It was as though he was surrendering, something the man did so rarely.
Gripping Brantley’s hips, Reese positioned him for a better angle as he began pumping his hips, sliding into the blistering-hot depths of his body. Slow at first, then faster until the world seemed to have paused and the only thing moving was him as he drove himself to completion, spurred on by Brantley’s deep moans and sexy grunts.
“Fuck … gonna … oh. Fuck. Yes.” Brantley growled low in his throat. “Come.”
The last word and the tight clasp of Brantley’s ass on his cock triggered his release. Reese slammed home as he let out a deep, bellowing roar to signal the orgasm that all but obliterated him.
An hour later, Reese found himself sitting beside JJ at the breakfast bar while she and Brantley razzed one another over who should be allowed to keep Reese in the long run. Like he was a pet to be passed around.
“It’s only fair, Walker,” JJ argued. “You get to keep him Monday through Friday. I should have him on the weekends.” She picked up a piece of crisp bacon, bit off half of it, spoke again. “I deserve someone who’ll cook for me.”
Brantley barked a laugh. “Do you now?”
“Yes.” She smiled over at Reese. “You wouldn’t mind, would you?”
“If I understand correctly, Baz cooks for you,” Reese countered.