Page 58 of It's Complicated

His groan was answer enough.

I was about to ask if there were any rules I needed to know about when he kissed me, sweeping his tongue between my parted lips.

I forgot all about rules and kissed him back, squeezing his ass hard enough I had to be leaving marks.

He fumbled with my belt. I moved my hips back enough I could grab at his too. All we managed to do was bump hands and get in each other’s way.

“This isn’t going to work,” he said with a soft laugh. “How about we put a pause on the bet so we can get our dicks out.”

“Yeah, sounds good.” I dropped my hands from his belt. “Go ahead.”

I stood still, my remaining senses zeroed in on Isaac as he pulled open my belt, then undid my fly.

My breathing hitched when he reached into my briefs, and I nearly stopped breathing altogether when he gripped my shaft. He gave me a gentle stroke, then pulled my cock free.

“So hot,” he said in that sexy burr that was going to be my undoing.

“Z,” I said with a reedy moan.

“Get my dick out, Jamie.”

His raspy command broke through my lust-induced haze. I fumbled with his belt like I’d never seen one before, thankfully getting his pants open after only a few clumsy attempts.

“God, Z,” I rasped, my throat tight and my body buzzing. “I can barely think straight.”

“Well, that’s not such a bad thing since there’s nothingstraightabout what we’re doing.” His teasing tone slid into my ear as he gently circled my cock with his hand.

Not wanting to leave him behind, I fisted his, squeezing his thick shaft the way I knew he liked.

His groan was subdued, like he was actively holding back. As much as I wanted to hear him, that was a good thing. We were in a pantry with dozens of people milling about. I needed to remember that before I let everyone in on our secret because I couldn’t keep my voice down.

“You feel good.” He pumped his cock through my fist. “Taste good too.”

“Your dirty talk is going to kill me,” I whispered.

“Good.” He chuckled darkly and stroked me slowly, his grip too loose to give me any sort of relief.

“I thought this was a test of speed?” I taunted, jacking him hard and fast.

“It is,” he said, his voice strained and broken. “I’m going for skill over speed.”

“Wasn’t that your problem in hockey too? All about the skill and no speed?” I teased.

“My speed was off the charts, thank you very much.” He moved his hand faster. “Skills, speed, and…something else that starts with anS. It’s hard to be witty when you’re doing that.”

“Doing what?” I asked innocently. “This?” I added a little twist to my hand, tightening my grip around his head and loosening it on the downstroke.

After two weeks of getting each other off, I knew what Isaac liked.

“Cheater,” he said with a groan, adjusting his grip on me and stroking faster. “Two can play that game.”

“What game—oh fuck.” I bit my lip so I wouldn’t cry out.

His strokes were perfect, his grip exactly what I needed.

“That’s it, Jamie,” he rasped, his lips hovering so close I could feel them brushing against mine with every word. “God, you feel good.”

Rather than answer, I sealed my mouth over his, kissing him with everything I had.

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