Page 110 of Hot Streak

“Talk to me,” Connor murmured. “Please.”

He couldn’t say all the thoughts swirling through him. But he could say something.

“I’m sorry, I should have gone out with you guys, when Deke invited me—”

“Yeah,” Connor agreed. “But if you didn’t want to, you didn’t have to just . . .run away like that.”

I was scared.

But the problem was hiding away didn’t change the way Jackson felt.

“I know,” Jackson said. He turned around, and it was hard—impossible, almost—to look at Connor’s gorgeous face, to meet his eyes with the same blunt honesty. But he did it, because it had been cowardly before. And because it wasn’t like running away had made any of this easier.

“I want you,” Connor said, and when he leaned down, kissing Jackson, it felt like he was saying a different set of three words.

I love you, too.

Maybe neither of them said it, but the kisses they shared were just as hot as always, just as passionate, but there was an extra desperate edge to them.

A wildness in Connor’s eyes, as he sank to his knees, pinning Jackson against the kitchen counter and pulling Jackson’s shorts down with trembling fingers.

Jackson was torn between squeezing his eyes shut, trying to make the pleasure last longer, as Connor showed him every trick he’d learned over the last week, sucking his cock. Lovingly, but with an undeniable determination that it was going to be as good as Jackson had ever had.

He took every bit of education Jackson had given him and somehow it was even better than that. When Connor slipped a finger back, circling his hole, Jackson cried out, unable to keep quiet any longer.

“Yeah, let me hear you, baby,” Connor said, his throat already sounding rough and wrecked. But he went deep again, and Jackson thought, fleetingly, that he’d never feel this way again. That he’d never, ever get this lucky again. This man was as good as he was ever going to get, and every single moment of his life, he’d be trying to find this again—but he never would.

“Connor,” he murmured, reaching down and cupping his head with his hand. Connor groaned in appreciation and sucked him harder, and that was all it took to send him over the edge.

His orgasm felt like it went on and on and on, but finally it ended, and he came back to reality to see Connor sitting back on his heels in front of him, gold hair glinting in the dim lighting, fisting his own cock—like sucking Jackson had turned him on so much he just couldn’t help it any longer.

“Shit,” Jackson exhaled sharply. “Baby—come ’ere.” Jackson reached out and lifted him to his feet, his knees unsteady. It was easy enough, with the unhinged look on Connor’s face, to lead him to the bed.

“Fuck me, you gotta just do it,” Connor said as he sat down on the edge. “Fingers or your cock, whatever. I don’t care. I just need it.”

It wasn’t like Connor hadn’t begged for it before. He’d certainly been unapologetic in his desire for Jackson’s cock since the first time Jackson had fingered him.

Jackson wasn’t stupid enough to think if he did stick his dick in him, it would change anything. They wouldn’t become more metaphysically connected than they already were. But there was a small, very fanciful part of him that wanted to do it anyway, that wanted to be the first one to do it. The only one, his uncooperative brain added.

Or maybe it wasn’t his brain at all.

“I’m ready for it, I swear. And I won’t start again for days, so it’s not gonna affect me. I just . . .” Connor bit his lip. “I want it so goddamn bad, Jackson. I’m dreaming about it. I came here tonight because I want it. I want you.”

“Just . . .” Jackson swallowed hard. “Lie back, okay?”

“Are you gonna?”

“Just trust me, I’m gonna make you feel good.” Jackson wanted to resist the urge. He should resist the urge. But he didn’t know if he was going to be able to.

It was overwhelming, just watching Connor spread his legs without a hint of shame, desire written across every line of his body, etched on his gorgeous features.

He grabbed the lube from the dresser, warming it between his fingers as he leaned down, gave Connor’s hard cock a little suck, warming it up too. But Connor didn’t seem to need any warmup. He was as hard as Jackson had ever seen, twitching against his tongue, the man underneath him thrashing as he felt his finger begin to enter him.

They’d done this a few times since the first time, and it went easier every time, Connor relaxing into the stretch of it, begging for more. The last time, Jackson had been three fingers deep, firmly massaging his prostate and he’d barely needed to even touch Connor’s cock before he’d gone off like a rocket.

The second finger slid in next to the first and Jackson gave an experimental thrust, working him open at what he hoped was a reasonable enough speed. It was hard to even think of caution now, even though the last thing he wanted was to hurt Connor. He was just so eager, and his eagerness turned Jackson on so goddamned much.

Even though he’d just come, less than ten minutes ago, he could already feel his cock trying to get hard again.

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