Page 117 of Melting the Ice

But treasured.

They’d done their share of making out, but they’d never kissed like this before, over and over again, like they couldn’t get enough of just their lips colliding together, hot and wet, tongues slipping into each other’s mouths.

Dean’s hands were rough and sweet along his back, stroking and touching him everywhere. Then he dug his fingertips into the meat of Brody’s ass, and Brody groaned.

But it was loud enough—Brody’s mind stuttered over the realization thatactually, that wasn’tjusthim groaning. It was Dean, too.

He pulled back, panting, barely resisting the urge to thrust his hard cock against Dean’s big meaty thigh.

It would feel so good and he’d lose himself in it.

But he stopped himself, with the last remnants of his self-control.

“God,you,” Dean murmured roughly.

Brody curled his fingers into Dean’s biceps. Loving the way they flexed and tightened. Dean liked to callhimpretty boy, but Dean was a hot as fuck man, with a body that just didn’t quit. It was a weapon and a tool. Maybe he normally used it for sheer destruction on the football field, but it was just as effective here, in bed.

“You want me?” Brody teased, fluttering his eyelashes.

Dean thrust up, and yeah, he was just as hard as Brody was. “Yeah, I sure do, pretty boy,” he said, voice gravelly.

Brody pinned him with the most earnest, bossiest look in his arsenal. “Then fuck me, okay? I want it. I know you’ll take good care of me—”

But he didn’t get the rest out. Because Dean was covering his mouth with his own again, kissing him hard and relentless, but sweet, too.

He was such a bundle of those contradictions. Intense and determined, maybe the most stubborn man Brody had ever met, with the hardest will, entirely unrelenting. But he was sweet and soft, too, thoughtful in ways Brody never would’ve imagined could be possible if he hadn’t witnessed them for himself over and over again.

Dean flipped them, in a move so effortless Brody’s cock grew impossibly harder. His hand was still cupping his ass and he squeezed. “God.” Dean’s voice had gone from gruff to guttural.

Reaching up, Brody dug his fingers into Dean’s hair, tugging him down. “Yeah, you gonna get on with it? I’mdyinghere.”

“Like I’m not? You ask me for that, and I’mweak.”

His confession wasn’t wrenched out of him, like he’d never wanted to admit it. It was confided, instead, soft and so intimate, like Dean believed that weakness made him strong.

Stronger than he’d ever been before.

Is it any wonder you’re in love with him?

Brody pushed that thought away, the voice that sounded just like Ramsey’s.

“I want you,” Brody repeated,pleaded. If he said it enough times like that, maybe he’d stop mentally substituting another word forwant.

“I’ve got you,” Dean said, and then he was rising to his knees, rummaging in the drawer, pulling out the lube bottle that now seemingly shifted from bedroom to bedroom to living room once they’d figured out how much Brody enjoyed being fingered.

Then he was kneeling between Brody’s knees, and Brody cried out as Dean leaned down, mouth burning hot as it brushed across his aching cock. His fingertips, wet with lube, slid lower.

It wasn’t the first time Dean had sucked his cock, but it didn’t matter how many times it had happened, Brody didn’t think he’d ever get used to it. This big strong man, brought to his knees, more powerful on them than he was standing up.

He definitely hadn’t expected the hot suction of his mouth along with the inevitable push of his fingers. Brody clenched around the first one and moaned when the second joined the first.

He shouldn’t have been surprised at how slow Dean was, how sweet him dragging it out was.

Pleasure kept cresting through him in one hypnotizing wave after another. Just when he thought he’d taken as much as he could, Dean would pull back and then he’d lean in and give him a little more.

More than Brody thought he could take and then more still.

“Come on,” Brody groaned.

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