Page 88 of Hot Streak

Connor didn’t need to be goddamned coaxed. He needed fucking relief.

“I’m not . . .I don’t have abs like you.”

“Not many people do. They’re the product of way too much denial and self-imposed sexual celibacy.”

“Not anymore,” Connor said, suddenly aware of how hard he was grinning.

Jackson raised his eyes, and his gaze was scorching as it met Connor’s. “Not anymore,” he agreed. And then his whole hand was closing around Connor’s cock, gentle and yet not, pulling with strong, even strokes, and Connor lost himself to the pleasure of it, letting it drag him under.

He wasn’t going to last, and he didn’t even care. He just wanted to wallow in this, in Jackson’s touch, until it crested and sent him right into ecstasy.

“Oh God, yeah,” Jackson muttered, like it was turning him on to do this to Connor. “Oh yeah, darlin’, just like that, give it to me.”

Then his lips landed on the sensitive ridge of muscle right above his crotch and he bit down, teeth sinking into Connor’s skin. He couldn’t help the shout that escaped him, as his fists sank into the coverlet and he came in long, hot pulses across his stomach.

“Shit yeah, that was hot, baby. So fucking hot,” Jackson growled.

Connor could one hundred percent agree on that.

For a moment, he just lay back and enjoyed the way Jackson was looking at him, like he was just as irresistibly attractive as he’d always hoped he might be.

Like he was the precise key for Jackson’s lock.

If he hadn’t just come his brains out, he probably would’ve gotten hard again, just at the worshipful look in Jackson’s eyes.

It was so arousing—and so distracting—that Connor didn’t even get nervous until he’d manhandled Jackson back onto the bed and hovered above him, looking down at the bulge in Jackson’s shorts.

“You don’t have to—” Jackson started to say.

But that was complete bullshit. He was not afraid of a cock. He had one, didn’t he? How difficult could it be?

“Of course I do. I want to,” Connor interrupted, brushing Jackson’s concern aside. It was definitely not a question of desire. It was more a question of logistics. Of course, he’d been so goddamned horny and turned on that it probably wouldn’t have taken anything special to get him off, but Jackson had given him so much more than just a regular orgasm. He’d made it special; he’d made it extraordinary.

“Okay,” Jackson said. It was annoying how level his voice sounded. How in control he was, suddenly.

And Connor wanted nothing more than to strip it from him completely—but could he? Was he capable of it?

You don’t know if you don’t try.

Determination coalesced in a tight, hot ball inside him. Goddamn, he was going to work him, if it killed him in the process.

Maybe Jackson had just used his hand, but he could . . .well, he was gonna try, anyway.

Tugging Jackson’s sweatpants down, he got his first eyeful of Jackson’s cock.

It was big. And it was already there, since apparently Jackson wanted to give him a heart attack and had been going commando this whole fucking time.

Jackson opened his mouth—no doubt to convince him he didn’t need to do anything again; what the fuck was wrong with this guy? Did he never just want something and take it?

Probably not.

In this case, Connor was just going to give it to him before he could even deny himself by refusing to ask.

He dipped his head low, and the first brush of his tongue against the head was like an electric jolt to his own system. He hadn’t thought—he hadn’t even imagined—that doing this would turn him on. He’d imagined it must be some kind of chore that you grinned and bore, but no, no, it was hot as fuck. Feeling Jackson’s cock twitch against his mouth, against his tongue, and hearing him swear above him, it was the best thing he’d ever experienced.

“Oh God, just like that, yeah, yeah,” Jackson cried out as he took more into his mouth. Jackson was hardly short, and he was thick, too, and Connor had never done this before. It was a little like riding a bike for the first time.

He didn’t know where his hands were supposed to go, or how to keep his teeth away, but finally, he managed to get a good rhythm going, bobbing his head, trying to take a little bit more of Jackson’s cock every time.

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