“Ready?”
“Yep.”
They walked out of the restaurant in silence, crossed the parking lot. The night was humid and scented with cooling car engines and warm rubber. In continuing silence, they stepped into the hotel elevator. But then their rooms were on the same floor, so what was there to say?
The elevator rose, and Kennedy stared bleakly at the closed doors. Jason stared at the ceiling. He was going to have a headache in the morning. In fact, he was probably going to have a headache before he finished brushing his teeth. Assuming he bothered to brush his teeth.
The elevator lurched to a stop, the doors slid open, and they started down the hall.
And seriously. What the hell with that black, red, grape, and lime green swirl-pattern carpeting? Maybe art did represent the best of humanity, but the people who came up with hotel décor belonged on Kennedy’s side of the crimes-against-mankind spectrum.
“So are you married or involved or what?” Kennedy asked suddenly, brusquely.
Jason threw him a quick look. Was Kennedy…? Not possible.
He’d asked though. Was it general curiosity, or was he really, truly about to suggest sex?
Now that would be funny, right? Hard-ass Senior Special Agent Sam Kennedy was so drunk he’d propositioned Jason.
Except Jason didn’t feel like laughing. He was ridiculously nervous, his heart pounding so hard he felt like he was going to smother. There was no way Kennedy would—but why else had they both stopped at Kennedy’s room door?
Why else would Kennedy be watching him—his eyes gleaming in the shadows—waiting for Jason to answer?
“Uh, no,” Jason said. “None of the above.”
“You want to come in?”
Bewilderingly, yes. Jason did. So much so it actually hurt. He wanted Kennedy’s arms around him, Kennedy’s mouth on him, Kennedy’s cock inside him. Or his cock inside Kennedy. Either was almost too exciting to contemplate. In fact, he wanted Kennedy so much he was in danger of saying it aloud.
Instead he managed a terse, “Why not?”
Chapter Twelve
Of course there were plenty of excellent reasons why not.
Jason managed to block them all out as Kennedy unlocked his door and let them both inside his room.
The lights were out. The room smelled like all hotel rooms. The only landmark was Kennedy.
The door swung shut, the deadbolt slid home, Kennedy’s arms closed around Jason.
Jason was conscious of Kennedy’s muscular length backing him into the door, the alcohol-scented heat of Kennedy’s breath on his face, the speedy expertise with which Kennedy’s long fingers unbuckled Jason’s holster—clearly he had plenty of practice in disarming lovers—before turning his attention to Jason’s shirt buttons.
“Good,” Kennedy muttered. “This is good.”
Which…the jury was still out, but yes, it was looking promising so far. Jason arched his neck and found Kennedy’s mouth. Hot and tasting like booze with an undernote of stinging sweetness. Kennedy neither rejected nor reciprocated the kiss, his attention focused on undoing the last buttons of Jason’s shirt.
Jason’s shoulders were wide, and his shirt was tailored, so it took a few seconds, but at last Kennedy laid bare Jason’s chest. He let out a sigh of satisfaction, fingertips skating lightly, slowly, over the flat planes of Jason’s abs, tracing a line between his pecs, and circling round to graze the nipples that pricked to attention at that tingling touch. Jason’s breath caught in his throat.
Kennedy lowered his head, touched a nipple with his tongue, and Jason gasped and jumped, his head hitting the door with a noisy thump.
“Easy,” Kennedy murmured. His voice was unfamiliar in its huskiness, even sexy. “Don’t knock yourself out.” He sounded amused.
Just as well Kennedy hadn’t turned on the light. The darkness was a lot of what made this possible. Jason was uncomfortable with his own intense response to this man. Not like he didn’t have any experience with casual sex, but for some reason the fact it was Kennedy touching him, rasping his hot wet tongue against Jason’s nipple, was exciting almost beyond belief.
There was a little moan trapped deep in his throat, a naked sound he’d have died rather than release, and it was nearly strangling him as Kennedy turned his attention to Jason’s other nipple. He reached out blindly for Kennedy’s belt buckle, and Kennedy leaned into him, offering easier access.
“Yeah, whatever you want,” Kennedy whispered before his lips closed on the sensitive point of Jason’s nipple. Kennedy sucked, and Jason’s entire body seemed to throb with pleasure. It was crazy what this was doing to him. Had anyone touched him like this before? He couldn’t remember another guy spending this much time on his breast—not something Jason would have ever asked for or imagined enjoying—but thrills of sensation shuddered up and down his spine as Kennedy licked and nibbled.