Page 63 of The Bartender Special

Jack did. He wanted to push his point home.

“All I’m saying is that you don’t have to always worry so much about what you’re doing. Or at least you don’t have to feel all squirrelly about when something normal—and pretty damn funny, by the way—happens. At least not around⁠—”

Benny moved against Jack so quickly that it took his hand falling from his cheek to realize where Benny’s lips had landed.

The smell of citrus was nothing compared to the taste of Benny De Carlo’s lips.

Mint and summer.

Strong and warm.

They pressed against Jack with such a quickness that it only seemed polite to try and hold on.

Jack grabbed one of the man’s hips in his hand while securing his face again in the other.

All descriptors of what was happening soon went out the window.

Benny De Carlo’s tongue had just entered the experience.

It only seemed on theme for the day to return the favor.

ELEVEN

Benny hadn't meant to kiss Jack.

Nope.

Not one bit.

Sure, he'd thought about it before—it wasn’t their first time, after all—but thinking about something didn’t make that something suddenly in your mouth.

But that’s where Jack was now.

In his mouth.

And while Benny had been the one to kiss him, it was now Jack who made him gasp.

One hand slid to the back of his head, fingers combing into his hair, while the other pulled him in, waist to waist.

Space between them didn’t exist anymore.

My goodness, what a ride.

Their kiss deepened and went from a singular instance of exploration to a committed masterclass on the craft.

Jack Knox was kissing him and it seemed a shame not to try and add his own flair to the performance.

Benny decided it was time to play with his own hand placement.

One went to Jack’s shoulder.

The other went to his pants.

This was what couples did, right? Since they were already playing pretend…

“Jesus Christ, Benny!”

Benny gasped, this time not with pleasure.