Page 51 of Into the Fire

After planting a series of kisses down the trail, I took his cock in my mouth and he swore. I went slowly. He was hard and hot against my tongue while the rest of his body tried hard to hold still.

One hand dug into the comforter, and I pulled off and licked the length of him. “You can move,” I said. “It’s allowed.”

“If I move, this is over.”

“Then we’ll start again. We’ve got all night.” I’d said it out loud.

When he was close, I saw it coming—breath gone ragged, control hanging by a thread. Then he caught my arm, hauled me up for a hard kiss, and rolled me under him. I was no longer running things.

He reached for the nightstand and pulled out a condom package.

“You have condoms.”

“Yes.”

“In your nightstand.”

“That’s generally where people keep them.”

I grabbed the packet. “How old are they?”

He took it back. “Last month.”

I stared at him as I did the math. He bought them for me.

“I’m tested,” I said. “Negative, June, Casper. Nothing since.”

“Spring physical for me.”

He pulled out a small bottle of lube next and slicked up his fingers. One finger slipped inside and then the second. He went slow until I told him to stop going slow.

He eased his cock into me with one long thrust. He stopped once, and I pulled him closer. I kissed him once. “You good?” he asked.

“Better than that.”

Then it was work, the good kind, his weight on me and my heels against the backs of his thighs, the two of us finding the rhythm like we’d been at it for years. I said his name once, and he moaned. “Boone.” He moaned again.

I laughed, which earned me a look. He shifted the angle of his thrust, and it nearly took me apart. “Interesting,” he said and kissed me before I could say anything.

He came first. Boone Hatcher, undone, face pressed into my neck, hips shuddering.

He wrapped his lube-slicked fingers around my cock and stroked me with his face against my shoulder. I came hard less than a minute later.

His body was heavy when he collapsed onto me. I didn’t want him to move.

Eventually Boone dealt with the condom and came back with a warm washcloth. I submitted to being wiped down like equipment coming off a fire.

“You staying?”

“Yeah,” I said.

***

I woke at five-forty. I lay there and waited for the impulse to exit before my partner woke. I’d gotten good at it. I’d be gone in my head before my feet hit the floor.

It didn’t come.

I was in Boone’s bed with his arm heavy over my ribs and his breath slow against my neck. I didn’t want to leave.