Page 16 of The Wounded Mountain Man

Before I know it, we're kissing. It's urgent, hungry, desperate. The need he's stirred up in me since returning, and since our kiss a few nights ago, has left my body blazing. I'm not usually a sex-driven person, but these last few days, I've been busting out a load daily.

Mindful of Wade's restricted mobility, I step around him and walk backward, our mouths connected the whole time. His hands have found their way under my shirt, and it tickles in a good way as his fingers skim across my abs.

I nudge him so that he leans against the counter, then I drop to my knees and slide my fingers over the latch over his belt buckle. Once I get it undone, I peer up to find Wade's eyes darting around, like he's expecting someone to waltz in.

"Who are you looking for?" I ask.

"Rufus."

With a chuckle, I reply, "He's curled himself up in a jacket in the mudroom and is fast asleep." Turns out he has a moderate respiratory infection. The antibiotics are making him lethargic, but he should be back to his usual self in another week or so. "He won't cockblock us again. Promise."

Wade's hand lands on my chin, and he gently tilts my head up so that our eyes meet. "Are you sure about this?"

"I am. I want you."

He breathes out through his nose. "I want this, too. Believe me. I just don't want to mess anything up."

I slide his belt free from the belt loops and drop it onto the floor. "We won't."

He fixes me with an unwavering stare for what feels like forever and eventually nods. "Okay. Let's do this."

9

Wade

Logan peels off my pants and underwear and helps me step out of them, conscious of my physical limitations.

"You comfortable?" he asks, curling his fingers along my rigid cock and looking up at me, letting out an adorable series of blinks.

I'm leaning against the counter and am steady on my feet, so this is about as comfortable as I can be. "I am."

"Good."

And with that, my best friend opens his mouth and takes me in. The sight of my cock disappearing into him makes my knees wobble, and I grip the bench tighter to not lose my balance. "Holy fucking shit."

For some reason, I always thought Logan would be a quiet sex person. Don't know where that idea came from, but it turns out, I'm wrong. Very wrong. The sounds of Logan's slurps fill the entire house as he slobbers messily all over my cock, riding it up and down, using his mouth, his tongue, his fingers to get me off. And that's in addition to the moaning. Fuck, his moaning. It's almost pornographic…and so fucking hot.

Logan stops using his mouth and treats me to a double-handed handjob, working his palms back and forth over my saliva-slicked cock. Goodbye, Hattie, hello, indescribable pleasure.

"Fuck," I hiss, charging my hands through his hair. "Feels so good."

He looks up at me, grinning, as he rubs his palms together with my dick the only thing separating them. Pleasure rolls through my entire body.

"You like?"

"More than like. I love it," I grit out, silently urging myself not to come too soon. I don't want this to be over yet. There's a bit of spit running down his chin. I scoop it away and stare into his eyes. "Can I fuck you?"

He smiles, and it's the sexiest, dirtiest smile I've ever seen in my life. I can't get enough of this new confident, sexual side of Logan. He stands up. "Thought you'd never ask. How can we make that happen?"

Hmm. Good question. I haven't been with anyone since the accident, so I haven't had to figure out the logistics of fucking with a limited range of motion. And now I'm hard and horny, my brain isn't all that useful.

"I have an idea," Logan says, saving me from coming up empty-handed. He takes my hand in his and leads me into the living room. "Don't move," he says, racing down the hallway. When he returns, he flings a bottle of lube and some condoms over the couch. "Miss me?" he murmurs, pressing his lips against mine.

"Like you wouldn't believe," I growl.

He giggles and takes a few steps back. With his eyes locked on mine, he takes off his clothes, first his long-sleeved heather-gray T-shirt, then his jeans, then his socks, then his square-cut black trunks.

My eyes roam over his naked body. It's even better than I imagined it would be. A lean frame with defined muscles, each line visible but not overly bulky, toned chest and arms, a faint outline of abs. His skin is smooth and pale, but not sickly so, more like translucent. A faint trail leads to a neatly trimmed patch just above his cock.

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