Page 76 of The Play

They shouldn’t do this here.

It was one thing to give in because it was time and it was another to do it recklessly and without a single care in the world.

Even if they were doing this now, Grant had every intention of keeping the truth of it under wraps, for now.

“Am I distracting you?” Deacon joked, looking like twenty years were dropping off his face, and Grant was drunk on the sight.

He nodded.

It almost felt like this had happened back then—even as he knew it hadn’t.

It’s even better.

They were the same people they’d been in college, but different too. Older. Having had experienced enough of life and love and loss to know just how much they both wanted this.

Having waited for it for all these years and rediscovered each other all over again . . .Grant felt breathless as Deacon’s arms loosely encircled him. Not pushing him. But not letting him go, either.

Lots of people, especially after he’d become rich and successful, had wanted to pick Grant.

But never the man he’d always, secretly, desperately wanted.

Not until now.

He leaned over and enjoyed Deacon’s sharp intake of breath as his mouth passed close by Deacon’s. But instead he pressed a button on the control panel and tried to keep his voice level. “Richard? Can you take me back to my building, please?”

“Absolutely, sir,” Richard said, and there was only barest hint of amusement in his tone.

Richard wasn’t just his driver, though. He was also a friend. And he was most definitely aware that while Deacon had gotten into this car, he hadn’t gotten out, yet.

“So this is the billionaire experience, huh?” Deacon asked.

Grant rolled his eyes. “It’s convenient to have a driver. I conduct a lot of business in this car.”

“And sex, too.” Deacon’s voice was gravelly. “Just not tonight.”

It was too easy to lean in and catch Deacon’s bottom lip between his teeth and tug, falling right back into the kiss.

Deacon could get used to traveling like this.

Not just quickly and easily in this long black car driven by someone else.

But going places with Grant in his lap and his mouth glued to Deacon’s.

Of course, when the car stopped, then they had a problem.

By the time they made it to Grant’s penthouse, they’d gotten hot and heavy again. It wasn’t shocking, considering they both knew what was about to happen. When Grant pulled back from Deacon, his lips were red and wet and his bottom lip was swollen—probably because Deacon couldn’t stop sucking on it.

Probably because of the way Grant made this deep, desperate sound in the back of his throat every time Deacon did it.

“We’re going to have to get out of this car not looking like we were doing what we’ve been doing,” Grant said, and to Deacon’s disappointment, slid off his lap.

Deacon glanced down pointedly and Grant laughed, a hysterical little giggle that was absolutely fucking adorable.

“Believe me, I know,” Grant said. “I’ve got a similar problem.”

He sure did.

Deacon couldn’t stop looking at the hard line of Grant’s cock in his jeans as he tried to fix his hair, catastrophically messed up by Deacon’s own hands.

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