Page 94 of Sweet Like Whiskey

Ash inhales deeply when I wrap my fingers around his cock. “I think I like your ideas, Jack.”

I manage a hum as Ash tugs my hair, demanding my mouth with gentle persistence. I give in easily, my hand gaining more room to maneuver as Ash pushes his still-open jeans down his hips. He hardens in my fist, soft sounds pouring from his lips as he starts to drive up into my hand.

“Fuck, you always make me so hot,” he breathes.

“Truth,” I mutter against his mouth.

Ash laughs, his hand in my hair almost stinging as his hips punch up off the ground. When he spins, I have no choice but to let go. “Need to feel you, Jack.”

I don’t object as Ash tugs down my boxer briefs. He tucks the band under my balls and picks up the jug of cider. With a smirk, he tips it over the head of my dick.

“Fuck,” I gasp, the cool liquid sliding down my shaft and soaking into my underwear. “That’s gonna be a mess.”

“Worth it,” Ash says, wrapping a hand around me. When his fist glides easily up and down, I have to agree.

“C’mere,” I grunt, giving his arm a tug. “Ride my cock.”

Ash stills. “Jack… I’ve put plenty of weird shit up my ass, but I’m not sure whiskey cider is a good replacement for lu—”

With a huff, I tug Ash forward and wrap a hand around our cocks.

“Oh,” he breathes out, hands landing on my shoulders. “Oh, fuck. Yeah, I get it.”

My head hits the hay bale behind me as Ash starts to move, grinding his cock against mine in the confines of my fist. For the briefest of moments, I remember my demonstration on frotting with Colton in the barn below, but the image of two carrots isquickly replaced by Ash as he drops his head back and moans. His hair is bright in the light of the moon, even as his face is obscured in shadows. It’s all too easy to imagine him fucking himself on my dick with the way he’s moving.

“Hell,” I mutter. “You’d make a damn good cowboy.”

He huffs an amused laugh before leaning forward to catch my lips. For minutes, there’s nothing but this. Ash’s mouth. His hands on my shoulders and in my hair. A tightness in my gut and in my chest, an ache that goes beyond the pleasure we’re both so desperately chasing.

When Ash starts to come, I tighten my fist, jacking the both of us feverishly. He stutters a cry into my mouth, his body jerking, cum spilling over my hand before he collapses against my chest. I follow him not a moment later, adding to the mess on my shirt.

I run a hand through Ash’s hair as his head rests on my shoulder. A few strands curl over his cheek, and I tuck them away behind his ear, that pressure in my chest back in full force.

There’s one very loud truth making its presence known at the edge of my mind. It’s been there all night. When Ash picked me up for our date. When he brought me more donuts to smash against the tree. When he refused to meet my gaze on the carriage ride, so certain our romantic evening had been ruined and not wanting me to see his disappointment. The look in his eye, both joy and desire, when I tackled him atop a hay bale. The way he kissed me so sweetly, tasting of autumn and home.

I never expected this man. Sure didn’t see him coming over the horizon. I wasn’t even looking. But now, I can’t find it in me to look away.

I sift my fingers through Ash’s hair again and whisper the truth that won’t let go. “I think I’m falling for you.”

Ash goes still, motionless apart from the rise and fall of his chest.

I tuck a strand of his hair behind his ear. “Truth or lie?”

His breath hits my neck, his palm unmoving on my chest. For once, he’s utterly silent.

“Truth or lie, Ash?”

He doesn’t even have to lift his head and look at me to suss out the answer. “Truth.”

“It scares the shit out of me,” I admit.

Ash shifts back enough to catch my gaze, his hand moving to the side of my neck, anchoring there. He strokes over my pulse point slowly. “I know.”

“I don’t want either of us to get hurt.”

“I know, Jack.”

“You can’t leave me.”

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