The Best Men (The Best Men 1)

“Breathe,” he says.

And I do. But I’m so willing it doesn’t even matter. I bear down on that slick finger and groan with pleasure. The invasion is unfamiliar and it stings a little. And it’s still exactly what I crave.

“Jesus, Banks.” Asher makes a low noise of approval. “You’re magic.”

“More,” I growl, as I shift to my back.

“Patience,” he whispers. Then he leans down and kisses the place where my thigh meets my body. It’s unexpectedly tender, and I shiver from head to toe.

That’s when he swallows my dick in one shocking, well-practiced motion.

My back bows, and I let fly a string of curses. My skin breaks out in a sheen of sweat as Asher gives me a sturdy suck. And when he releases me a few moments later, I practically howl from the loss of his mouth.

“Easy, Banks,” he murmurs. “I’m not done with you yet.”

And he isn’t. As I sprawl on the bed, spread open and panting, he teases my crown and then takes me into his mouth again. His tongue is wicked and weighty against my shaft.

I press my shoulder into the mattress and groan. All my nerves are jumping with electric anticipation. And when I glance down to see Asher’s blond head bobbing between my legs, it’s almost more than I can stand.

Tonight, I’m living someone else’s life—some fun guy’s dream. A secret hookup in balmy Miami. With a guy whose sense of humor I’ve come to appreciate as much as I enjoy his sculpted shoulder muscles and the too-long golden hair at the back of his neck.

I reach down and run my fingers through it, and Asher moans.

That’s another thing my spreadsheet could never capture—this strange bubble of intimacy we’ve created in the tiny guest house. There’s no cell for the way his soft hair sifts between my fingers. Or the wickedly hot view I get next as he tilts up his chin to look me in the eyes.

“Fuuuck,” I whisper as he gives me another suck. “You’re killing me.”

His naughty finger slides farther into my channel. I can’t even sort out the sensations anymore. There’s the pressure in my ass, and the pleasure on my cock.

Then he strokes a place deep inside me, and I feel a kind of dark, intense pleasure that’s completely unfamiliar. And I hear a low, desperate moan that probably comes from me.

“You like that, Banks?” he murmurs.

My answer is a tangle of curses and gibberish.

With a chuckle, he moves his mouth away from my cock and kisses my stomach instead.

“More,” I beg.

“You’ll get more.” He strokes my prostate again and I arch off the bed with pleasure. “You ever do this to yourself?”

Well I thought I had. I’ve plugged myself while I jerk off. The pressure was nice. “It’s not the same,” I murmur.

His laugh is wicked. “Can you take two fingers?”

“I’ll take whatever you give me.”

Asher groans. “Careful what you wish for, hotshot. Aren’t we taking the list one item at a time?”

“What list?” I grunt. I’m ready to throw the damn thing overboard. Lists aren’t real life.

This is real life—the press of his finger into my body, and the fizz of longing pounding in my veins. I want this beautiful man with the smart mouth and crooked smile. I want this night to never end.

Sadly, his magic finger disappears. I lie boneless on the bed, listening to the sound of the lube bottle opening again while my heart thrums with anticipation.

Next comes the sting as he penetrates me once more. I’m expecting his mouth on my cock again too. Asher is a slick lover. He has all the moves. I don’t like to think too hard about all the men who’ve come before me—all the living he’s done while my life took a long nap.

This is the most fun I’ve had in years while I’m just a notch in his belt.

But those worries fall away as he hitches himself up my body and kisses my chest. That crazy hair of his tickles my chin as well as my nipples. And I clamp a hand around the back of his neck and ask my body to stretch a little farther. The burn is already easing off. He scissors his fingers and I groan as he brushes my spot again.

Yes. This. More, says the drumbeat of my heart. And I’m still waiting for his mouth to torture me again.

And it does—but not in the way I’m expecting. Asher rises up, one strong arm wrapped around my thigh, and then he sinks down onto my chest for a kiss. I moan against the unexpected assault of his tongue against mine. The kiss is an erotic multiplier, heightening every sensation times ten. I’m a forest fire, and I don’t want to be put out.

When I gaze up at Asher in the dark, I’m astonished to see my own wonder mirrored back at me. Those bright eyes bore into me, like he’s never seen anything so interesting in his life.