Jagged Edge

Never had a proper lay in fact, and… yeah, another thought to shut down ASAP and get on with the show.

And it is a show. He’s paused with the tank top rolled up, looking at me. I’d have whipped it over his tousled head in under a nanosecond, but he’s taking his sweet time, stretching his muscles so that every dip and ridge of his chest is outlined in the faint, golden light of the lamp.

Then he finally gets it off and he’s standing there, the fabric bunched up in one hand, dressed in his low-slung pants and boots, one brow arched at me, like a sexy god of the underworld, his gaze full of dirty promises.

I shake my head slowly, trying to clear it.

It’s not working.

I want him to push down those damn pants, let me see his dick, see if he’s as hard as I am. See what his dick looks like. If it’s pierced, too, oh fuck…

The heat flows like molten lava, pooling between my legs, a heavy, sweet pressure, settling behind my balls, making my cock swell more, so instead of words, I groan.

At this rate, I’m gonna come in my pants just from imagining him naked.

On the heels of that thought, he steps closer, until we’re chest to chest, and his scent hits me, something spicy that isn’t an aftershave but more like pure male sweat and blood and musk, and I grab his face in my hands, unable to stop myself. My mouth is watering like I’m starving and he’s a feast. I wanna run my tongue all over him, taste that sinful mouth.

But when I lean in, he turns his head slightly, as much as my hands will all

ow him, until my fingertips are buried in the soft hair of his nape on one side, touching the soft skin of his throat with the other.

“Gonna suck you,” he whispers, a dark seductive purr to his deep voice, and he goes down on his knees in one movement, leaving my hands empty.

He unzips my pants and tugs them down together with my black briefs. My breath comes out in a gasp when the cool air hits my overheated cock.

Jesus, I…

Can’t think. Not when he produces a condom from somewhere in his pants and snaps it over my dick, then puts his mouth on me.

My hands drop to his dark head, twist in the soft strands, and then it’s a struggle to keep quiet as he goes to town on me, sucking and humming and working my hard-on with his tongue, and oh man…

The pressure increases, and I look down to see he has taken my whole cock into his mouth. My fingers tighten in his hair. He’s deep-throating me, and the last thread of my control snaps.

He does something with his throat that has me crying out and shaking as I come, my dick jerking and my balls pulsing. I’m pretty sure the top of my head has blown off.

Holy fuck… This is the mother of all motherfucking bad ideas, but right now I couldn’t care less.

Chapter Eight

Jason

I can’t fucking believe I’m sucking Raine Storm off.

Here I am, though, on my knees in front of him. It’s just work, I tell myself. I’ve done this a thousand times.

But not with him. Not to him. I wasn’t supposed to. Of all johns in the whole goddamn city, he was the one I never planned on doing, even if I need the money. Hell, I always need the money.

He’s an asshole.

He’s Ocean’s little brother.

And… I’m enjoying this too fucking much, as I feared I would.

Normally when I’m with a customer, my body’s numb. Frozen solid. Can’t get hard if my life depended on it. Oh, I know how to fake it, how to hide the fact my dick’s limp and my balls are trying to crawl up into my body. I can fake it with the best of ’em.

But something weird’s happening to me right now, to my body, as he trembles and gasps and comes hard, his release scorching my tongue through the condom. I’m holding on to his powerful thighs, the fine dusting of hairs there tickling my palms, his scent invading my senses, his voice making all those sexy noises, and heat is rushing down my spine, straight to my balls.

I’m getting hard while giving head to a guy, and I can’t for the life of me figure it out, or remember the last time it happened.