Page 28 of The Brotherly Shove

"I really, really am, but I think I'd enjoy your touch a lot more. Come back to me?" I whine, and he winks, tossing a packet onto the bed next to me and stalking his way back over top of me with all the grace of a jungle cat hunting it's prey. He straddles my thighs and starts to run his hands over my stomach and my hips.

"You're leaking, honey," he says, swiping a finger through the small pool of precum that has begun to gather under my belly button. He takes the same finger and sucks it into his mouth and I grit my teeth.

He is…

So.

Fucking.

Sexy.

He picks up the packet and rips it open with his teeth. I'm too lost in the lust to pay much attention to what he's doing. I hiss when he starts to dribble the cool lubrication over my dick. My eyes fly open when his hand wraps around me, giving me one long, slow pull up.

"You're so beautiful, Len. Can you touch yourself for me? I want to watch." He wets his lips as he stares down at where his hand is wrapped around me.

I groan. I don't want to do it myself. I don't want to lose the pure bliss of his tight grip on my shaft, but I don't want to disappoint him, either. I take my cock from his hold and squeeze it hard, hoping to stave off the orgasm that has been building in my bones for what feels like hours, days, fucking years. Breaker's eyes glaze over as he watches me slowly and deliberately work my hand up and down my length.

"You have such nice hands, honey. They're so big and strong. They feel rough and soft at the same time. Do you think they can handle more?" He leans over so that he is hovering me again, his chest a mere inches from mine. I nearly jump out of my skin when I feel the head of his cock nudge at the place where my hand is wrapped around myself.

"Open up your grip a little bit. Take me with you, Len. Make us feel so good," He whispers against my neck, and I loosen the hold I have on myself, allowing his dick to slide in against mine. The first feel of his velvety skin, slick with lube and precum rubbing against my own dick is so intense, my eyes snap shut and I bite my tongue, desperate for the pain to offset some of the overwhelming pleasure shooting through my every nerve. He starts to fuck and grind against me and I grip us tight, tight, so fucking tight. The pressure of my hand, his hips and his smooth, silky cock fucking into my fist against my own has my head spinning.

"God, baby," I grit out through clenched teeth. "You feel so fucking amazing. Not gonna last. Holy shit I'm not gonna last." He bucks his hips and drops his lips to the shell of my ear.

"Jack us fast, honey. Hot and fast. Make us come. I want it all over you. I want you to drench my cock in your cum." He sucks my earlobe into his mouth, and it's my undoing.

My orgasm hits me like a tractor trailer, slamming into me with the force of a thousand suns. My balls draw up tight and my toes grind into the bed as I coat my hand and our stomachsin rope after rope of thick cum. Fireworks explode behind my eyes, and I can't see. I'm blinded by the pleasure. I can't move. I can't think. Somewhere in the distance I can hear myself panting and groaning, but it's like my head is under water, right at that blissful rush of breathlessness. I'm lost to sensation in a way I've never been before.

Thank god Breaker has the sense to take over, pistoning his hips and fucking my fist faster and faster as I come down from my own high. I'm still riding out the waves of intensity when Breaker's swollen crown passes over my own and an almost painful aftershock of pleasure courses through me. It bolts down my body through my too-sensitive dick as Breaker shudders above me, finding his own release. His warm release coats my skin, our shared pleasure mixing together between us. Breaker doesn't hesitate to drop himself onto my chest and grab at my face with both hands, pulling my lips into desperate, thankful kisses. The kind of kisses that feel like prayers and whispered promises, my name a symphony of praise on his tongue.

I bask in it, lying back and taking every bit of affection he is so willingly offering me. I don't know what just happened. I don't know if it will ever happen again. I just know that if Breaker owned a piece of my soul before, the whole fucking thing belongs to him now.

For now, I'm content to lie here in the afterglow with my best friend—my lover—glued to my skin.

CHAPTER 17

BREAKER

Now

San Francisco, California

The hair on my stomach is stuck to my skin like epoxy.

My sweat has dried, leaving the majority of my body feeling like that gross, overly salty feeling you get after a day at the beach.

The hair on my head…I can't even begin to think about how out of whack it looks. If I had to guess, I probably look something like Robin Williams on the movie poster for Flubber.

I should have insisted that we showered immediately to avoid this feeling, but the moment Lennon came apart beneath me, my mind was a beautiful, empty vessel. Just like he asked of me before I jumped him, I didn't think. Couldn't think. All I could do was feel. It was glorious.

Of course, when Len's eyes drifted close and his little sleepy breaths filled the room like the most beautiful music, I was powerless to wake him. I don't know how long I've been lying here next to him, running my fingers lightly through the thick black curls that paint his muscled chest and round belly. Even in sleep, his arm is holding me tight to his side. If I wanted to move—which I most certainly do not—I wouldn't be able to. Lennon's unconscious self is holding on to me like I'm a life raft and he's adrift at sea.

This isn't technically the first time we've laid like this. Len is a sleep snuggler. There were many times during away games or nights we passed out at each other's places that we've ended up in some sort of cuddling position. Unlike anytime I woke up with one of Lennon's arms or legs—or sometimes all of his appendages—wrapped around me, I don't get that sense of dread and sadness. I don't feel the need to keep my groin area as far away from his as possible, because I don't care if he knows how hard he makes me anymore.

It's the first time I've laid in Lennon's arms and felt some sort of peace.

When I hopped in my car and followed Lennon to this hotel a few miles away from the Adler's mansion, I had no idea what my intentions were. My brain completely melted out of my ears in that pantry when Lennon told me what he had actually meant that night in Houston. That stupid night that I let ruin my life. That goddamned, rotten, cursed, doomed, pestilential night where everything changed for the worst.

The idea of showing up at Lennon's was absolutely treacherous. I was standing on a slippery slope of potential danger with no safety net in sight. Whether I took a step back in fear or propelled myself forward and towards him, the potential collateral damage could have been staggering.

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