Page 16 of Set Fire to This Cardhouse

He shoves both hands under Mike’s T-shirt, running them up Mike’s back, fingertips tripping over the ripples of Mike’s spine. When he lifts his hips, Mike settles down more heavily, leaving Toby with no room to move. Their bodies are locked together, one of Mike’s thighs hard between Toby’s legs.

“What do you want?” Toby asks, thinks, what do you need. His voice isn’t as steady as he’d like, but he’s past the point where he really cares. Under the bright glow of the ceiling light, Mike’s face is clear, his eyes a lovely shade of hazel, and that’s not something Toby should notice because they’re not about that. It’s just sex, mutual relief, the fading of adrenaline. A way to keep the memories at bay.

That’s all.

“What I want?” Mike pauses for a low, serious chuckle. “Lube and condoms. And then I want to fuck you.”

Jesus, trust Mike to do this right. Toby’s heart is off to the races, his mouth dry, but not too dry to croak, “My suitcase. Check the small inside pocket.”

Mike rolls to his feet without comment, shucking off his T-shirt as he crosses the room. The overhead light bounces off the relief of his back. With Mike’s pants hanging low on his hips, Toby gets a clear view of Mike’s slender waist and the strong line of his spine, of the twin arches of his shoulder blades, several interwoven tattoos hugging one bicep. Toby presses the edge of his hand against his stiffening cock.

“Take your clothes off,” Mike orders over his shoulder. He adds, “Please,” a second later, and it’s such a small thing, but it cuts through the haze of arousal and makes Toby smile.

Toby gives himself a second to watch Mike bend down to root through the suitcase—Christ, his ass. Sucking in a breath, Toby jerks his shirt over his head, undoes his pants and pushes them down his legs along with his boxers. He swipes it all off the bed along with the miniature bottles that started it all.

Mike returns, bare feet soundless on the carpet. There’s an obvious bulge denting his pants, and why is he still wearing clothes when Toby could bet that he’s gorgeous all over?

Just sex.

“Too many clothes,” Toby tells him.

The bed creaks when Mike climbs back on, settling on top of Toby. The fabric of Mike’s pants feels a little rough on Toby’s skin, and some grains of sand have found their way onto the sheets, scraping against Toby’s back. He welcomes the immediate, grounding reality of it.

Arching off the bed, Toby delights in the naked glide of their chests. Mike pushes him back down, and Toby could protest—would protest, but Mike’s fingers wrap around his biceps, anchoring Toby to the bed with soft, but insistent control that makes something inside Toby’s chest come undone.

For a brief, endless moment, Mike’s face hovers above Toby’s. His breath ghosts over Toby’s chin, and Toby stares up at him, feeling oddly weightless, untethered in spite of the mattress underneath, Mike strong and firm on top.

Shifting in Mike’s grip, Toby opens his mouth to say something, and can’t find the words. He inhales.

Mike closes the gap between them.

It’s no-holds-barred, Mike pressing Toby down into the bed, his tongue in Toby’s mouth like he’s laying claim. Toby tests Mike’s grip as he tries to twist closer, only closer. Mike doesn’t give an inch.

Toby can’t swallow a groan when Mike’s clothed thigh rubs against his groin, a delicious, dragging weight that makes Toby spread his legs, hips rolling up against Mike’s. It earns him a half-mumbled curse, then Mike sinks his teeth into Toby’s bottom lip. The pinprick of pain is no deterrent, does in fact prompt Toby to repeat the motion. Mike gasps into Toby’s mouth, his hold slackening for just a moment before it tightens again.

It’s heady, knowing that Toby can affect him like that. He wants more, wants to see Mike undone—one small taste, and he’s already addicted.

Just sex.

Their mouths come back together just as Mike releases his hold on Toby’s biceps, immediately moving to trap Toby against the headboard instead, both of Toby’s wrists secured by one of Mike’s hands. The metal is cool against Toby’s knuckles, and he shifts to accommodate the change in position, sinks further into the bed as the tip of Mike’s tongue traces the line of his teeth. Mike smells like grease and gunpowder, like sand and leather and, underneath, a hint of soap and cologne.

Their breathing is loud in the silent room, the bed squeaking with each sudden movement. Toby spares an errant thought for Paul and Nathan, hopes they’re fast asleep.

Mike pulls back just enough to murmur, “Lift your hips”—no ‘please’ this time, and Toby doesn’t want ‘please;’ he wants Mike to get on with it, wants Mike’s fingers and his cock, wants everything, and now. As he lifts his hips, his stomach brushes against the bulge in Mike’s pants. Mike stills, eyes sliding shut before he opens them again and stares down at Toby, drinking him in. Toby holds Mike’s eyes and slowly, deliberately, lets his legs fall open. Smiles.

“Fuck.” It’s heartfelt, and then Mike unscrews the lube with one hand. Toby rolls his head to the side to watch as Mike coats his fingers, some of the liquid dripping onto the covers. When Mike reaches down, his fingers are glistening, the harsh light showing everything in stark, obscene detail.

Even though Toby expects it, he flinches at the first wet brush of Mike’s finger against his ass. Spreading his legs wider, he uses what little leeway Mike’s hold allows to tilt his hips in a way that will make the angle better, easier.

“Fuck,” Mike repeats, like a prayer.

Simple instinct has Toby tense up when the very tip of Mike’s finger probes inside. He consciously relaxes his muscles and waits for Mike to move.

He’s not prepared for Mike to lean over him, not prepared for the way Mike’s grip on Toby’s wrists tightens with the strain of Mike holding himself up as he sucks on a nipple and twists his finger. Jesus. Toby arches his back to get closer, and Mike’s finger slips in to the knuckle.

Mike stops moving.

Toby snaps his eyes open. “Hey,” he protests, and the word comes out a little rough. “Did I ask you to stop? Not gonna break, here.”

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