Page 9 of Good Pucking Luck

“Come on. Let’s hurry.” I take his hand and drag him toward the back of the bar, to where the office is, and unlock the door. My nerves are hiding behind my excitement for him. No, not for him specifically, but for this moment. To do this wild, sexy, completely unfamiliar thing. Just the thought of it makes me feel like I’m not the kind of guy who would propose to some asshole who was dating me along with half the country. I’m…well, tonight I’mHarry, apparently, but I’m also a hot piece of ass Rylan wants to blow.

We stumble into the office, and the second we do, Rylan’s mouth is on mine. He pushes his tongue past my lips, tasting minty as he presses his hard body against me.

I stumble into the desk, my ass pressed against it, cock throbbing and hard as stone now. He nibbles my lip and feeds me greedy sounds, rutting our dicks together in a way that makes my skin buzz.

Malcolm never kissed me like this. The truth is, he didn’t kiss me a lot at all, now that I think about it. But there was never a hunger to it, never a neediness that I feel in the way Rylan’s tongue invades my mouth and in the press of his palm against my shaft when he slips his hand between our bodies to stroke me through my jeans.

I don’t think it means anything other than what it does, of course. This is about sex and hunger and getting off, but damn, couldn’t Malcolm have pretended to want me a little more thanhe had? Couldn’t he at least have played the part better? And why hadn’t I noticed something was off?

“We still good?” Rylan asks, mouth journeying down my throat.

“Yeah, just thinking about my ex.”

He freezes. “Hmm. Can’t say a guy wants the man he’s with to be thinking about his ex.”

I chuckle, realizing how that sounded. “Not like that. I was just thinking about how much better this is already. No-strings-attached sex is the best.”

He nibbles at my neck. “And I haven’t even started yet.”

I reach for him when he pulls back, but Rylan isn’t going far. He pushes my suit jacket off, then lifts the hem of my shirt, and considering I’m all for getting naked, I help him along by lifting my arms.

Rylan drops it to the floor, and I immediately go for his tee, getting it tangled on his head, which he laughs at before he tosses it away and… “Holy Mother of God…how the fuck do you look like that?” How does anyone look like that? All firm, cut muscles and golden skin. He’s got a light dusting of hair between his pecs, and abs for days. Aren’t we only supposed to have six of those? It looks like he has more. And the happy trail… I’ve never wanted to explore a trail so bad in my whole life, let it lead me all the way to the bulge beneath his joggers.

“Like what you see?”

“Stop sounding so cocky. How can someone not like what they see? Oh my God. You look like a painting…or a sculpture. Definitely not real. Am I dreaming? Fuck my life. I’m dreaming.”

Rylan gives me that rich, throaty laugh of his. “You’re fucking fun is what you are.”

“You’re the first person to tell me that, but I guess it’s a good thing I have that going for me since you’re clearly not with me because of my body.” It’s not something I’ve ever been insecureabout, and I’m not sure I’m insecure now either, but it’s not like I don’t notice the difference. I’m a slender guy mostly, my belly a little soft, and I’m not muscular and… “Your muscles have muscles.”

“You’re exaggerating. And you’re hot.” He leans forward and swipes his tongue over my left nipple, making pleasure shoot to my balls.

“Yes. More of that, please,” I tell him, and Rylan obeys, lashing my right nipple, sucking, then traveling to my left again. I drop my head back, will myself not to wake up if this really is a dream. Hope and pray that I don’t bust my nut the second I’m in his mouth because damn, we haven’t even done anything yet and I already know this will be the best sex of my life.

So far, I remind myself. Because I’m turning over a new leaf to be Slutty Hayes…or Harry.

He laves one nipple, working the other with his fingers, swapping, and then he begins to work his way down, to my non-six-pack abs, and my happy trail, before nuzzling my cock through my jeans.

“This is what I’ve been looking for,” Rylan says, looking up at me as I stare down at him. We don’t turn away from each other, and I think he’s checking for permission before he keeps going, so I nod, and then he’s unbuttoning and unzipping me. He tugs my jeans down, and I’m trying not to die on the spot.

When my underwear follows, cock springing free, he wraps his mouth around my crown, and I nearly combust. I’m not proud of the loud, “Oh God!” that slips past my lips, but we’re past pretending I’m smooth when it comes to sex. All I want is to come and then taste Rylan’s cock.

He fumbles with my shoes to take them off so I can get out of my jeans, but I just say, “Leave it. Suck me.”

It takes me a moment to realize the words came from me, which sounds silly, but it’s true. I’ve never been vocal duringsex, just kinda wait and see what the guy is going to do, but something about Rylan, about this night, gives me a courage I never had. And damned if it doesn’t feel good.

“Fuck.” Rylan moves forward to take me into his mouth.

“Wait!” I rush out, and he immediately stops.

“You want to stop?”

“Oh God no. I just want to see you too.” When he grins, I test out the words. “Take your pants off. I wanna see your cock.” Having sex with someone you’ll never see again is exhilarating as fuck. Plus, he doesn’t know me as the Rockwell heir. I’m Harry the random bartender, and there’s freedom in that.

“You’re enjoying this,” he says. “I can play this game with you. At least for a little while, and then I might want to be the bossy one too.” He smirks, and I just nod like an idiot. Clearly, idiot works for Rylan, so I don’t need to pretend I’m anything else.

He pushes onto his knees and tugs his joggers and underwear down, and…

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