Page 35 of Peacocks

If Jay wouldn’t listen to my words, maybe I could tell him how I felt with my actions.

I removed his hand from my mouth, then leaned down and pressed my lips to his.

He made a muffled sound of surprise and appreciation that quickly turned into a low groan as he deepened the kiss. Jay’s hands moved to my hips, pulling me down until I was straddled over his legs on the metal stool. I arched into him, pressing my thickening cock against the bulge in his pants.

“Come upstairs with me,” I murmured against his mouth. “I want you more than you could ever know.”

Jay pulled back and studied me. “You sure about this?”

I cupped his face and met his eyes. “As sure as you are that Partridge Pit’s barbecue is better than Susie Dupree’s.”

He frowned again. “Well, but… that’s just afact, Lane.”

I nodded. Jay had once talked for twenty minutes straight about the Pit’s secret-recipe sauce. “I know.”

“And their commitment to offering vegan options?—”

“I know, baby.”

“And they make their own pickles, which?—”

I kissed him again because I couldn’t help it.

“Jaybird,” I said, laughing. “Do you want to stand here talking about barbecue all night, or do you want to go upstairs and… rattle your train for me?”

Jay didn’t hesitate. He jumped up, turned off the lights, and shut the garage door behind us.

After leading him up to my place, I took my time undressing him, dropping open-mouthed kisses on every newly exposed inch of him as I went. By the time I had Jay naked on my bed, I was short of breath from wanting him.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I said, eating him up with my eyes.

Jay’s body was lean but strong, thanks to a lifetime of physical jobs. I was obsessed with those arms he displayed on a daily basis, with his broad shoulders and his taut stomach. I wanted to lick every inch of him, connect the dots across his freckled chest with my tongue and turn them into pictures, to kiss him until he couldn’t see straight.

But more than any of that, I wanted to make Jaybird feel as seen and as loved as he made me feel every day. “What would make you feel good tonight?”

He huffed out a laugh. “This. All of this. What you’re already doing.”

I pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “What else?”

His eyes darkened. “I want to fuck you, Lane.”

My stomach tightened with need and desire. We’d talked about it before, but for the past few months, we’d been too eager to get off with quick handjobs and blowjobs to need anything more.

“Yes,” I breathed.

Jay shifted us quickly until I was flat on my back and all of those muscles were pinning me down. My heart rate picked up as I imagined him thrusting inside me. Fuck, I wanted that.

“You going to relax?” he asked with a teasing glint in his eyes. “You’re practically vibrating.” He moved his hand down to run a finger over my hole.

I groaned.

The room was warm, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting Jay’s shoulders in golden light as he leaned over me. His weight pressed against me, grounding me, and I couldn’t look away from the way he was watching me—like I was the only thing that mattered in the world.

“Lane,” he murmured, his voice rough, reverent. He brushed his thumb across my cheek, his other hand settling on my hip. “Are you sure?”

I nodded, my throat tight. I tried to cut the tension with a joke. “Sure I want you at least half as much as Disco Dave did when he first arrived.”

Jay’s gaze softened, and he kissed me again, slow and deliberate. His lips were warm, his beard rough against my skin as he trailed kisses down my neck, over my collarbone, and lower still. Each touch left a trail of heat in its wake, every flick of his tongue pulling quiet gasps from my lips.

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