Home Plate (Easton U Pirates 2)

I drew back, then pressed our foreheads together as I inhaled some needed air.

“Damn, Mason. You’ve been holding out on me. I didn’t know you could kiss like that.” Girard nipped at my lips, dragging a groan from me. I released his wrists to clutch his hair and kiss along his jaw and down his throat. He smelled like mint and beer and masculine as fuck, and the feel of my cheek rubbing along his stubble made my cock stir to life.

Girard’s fingers connected with my neck, and he hauled me against him, our stiff shafts rubbing together. I moaned against his ear, and an instant later, he was licking into my mouth and tangling his tongue with mine again.

Everything around us blurred like the outer edges of a photo, the focal point becoming Girard, with his plump lips and amber eyes that turned dark and hooded. I was completely lost to his soft sounds and deep, bruising kisses as we continued pressing our mouths and tongues together for several long minutes.

“I want you,” he said against my ear as he pulled back to draw some air. “You make me so fucking hard.”

My breath hitched. “I want you too. I want—” The words got stuck, but the image remained right there, front and center.

“What?” he rasped, and I shivered from the desperation in his tone. “Tell me.”

I didn’t know where the bravery came from, but I looked him dead center in the eye. “I want you to fuck me.”

“Jesus, Mason.” He groaned and leaned his forehead against mine, breathing the same air in the small pocket of sanctuary we’d created in a bustling bar. “I want that too. I’m just afraid I don’t know enough about—”

“It wouldn’t matter. Just us, remember?” I replied, throwing his words back at him.

“When you put it like that.” He pecked at my lips, then fused our mouths together, the mutual exploration turning slow and sensual.

As I gripped the back of his neck to create a tighter connection, he sighed against my lips and murmured my name.

We continued that way, barely coming up for air, for a couple of blissful minutes until someone knocked into us, nearly spilling his beer on our heads.

“For what it’s worth, you guys look good together,” someone said in my ear as they brushed past us, and I stiffened. When I looked back, it was Kellan, and all at once it dawned on me that we were openly making out in a gay bar. Holy shit. That certainly was never on this season’s Bingo card.

“Well, now that I’ve got you loosened up,” Girard said with a laugh. “Let’s go make fools of ourselves on the dance floor.”

22

Girard

The tension in the car became tangible after our night out, thick and nearly suffocating, and my thoughts were all over the place.

It had been so fun. And hot. And brave.

Maclain had set my skin on fire with his kisses and his proclamation.

Hell, he’d even danced with me. What world was this?

I felt like we were on the brink of something big, important. It was the exact reason I’d turned down that man who’d approached us. I only had eyes for Maclain, and I wasn’t sure if after tonight he’d ruin me for other guys. Or girls, for that matter.

And just picturing him with anybody else tore me up inside.

Once he pulled into the lot, I certainly didn’t want the night to end, and given the longing looks we’d been sharing the entire ride back, I didn’t think he wanted it to end either. “You can come up if you want…even to just hang out. No pressure.”

He closed his eyes and groaned softly, as if I’d offered the thing he was dying to hear, but also the thing he was fighting against the hardest.

I slid out of the car without waiting for his reply, and when I heard him cut the engine and follow me up the stairs, my heart started beating wildly.

The second we got inside, we were mashing our lips together again, tongues exploring deeply, wildly, and, damn, kissing him made everything more… Just more.

It was as if he’d opened the floodgates of all my longing and I couldn’t contain it any longer. And apparently neither could Maclain because his lips probed and his fingers searched as he pinned me against the wall much like he’d done at the club.

“Bed,” he rasped as we kicked out of shoes and jeans and flung shirts across the room until we were finally bare. Then he was on me again kissing, licking, sucking my throat and jaw and ear. My cock was hard in an instant, my nuts already aching.

“Mason.” I grabbed his hips to steady myself. “Remember, we can pace ourselves. We don’t have to—”

“I want this. I want you,” he murmured. “I know the first time might hurt, but I need to feel you, really feel you. I wanna feel alive, and you make me feel that way, like I’m burning from the inside. And I just…I need that right now.”