Page 17 of Full Mountie

In practice, I’ve avoided working out with my team since he’s arrived, because this view undoes me every single time.

I still remember the first time I saw him naked—in the only gym in Moose Lake. I’d invited him to workout with me, and when he stripped down afterward and walked into the shower, I’d died a little inside.

He hadn’t been the first guy I’d been attracted to. He wasn’t the first guy I’d fooled around with.

But he was the first man I’d wanted with my entire being.

He was a lot of other firsts, too.

Some onlys.

Now as his eight-pack ripples in front of me, decorated with a few new tattoos, I die all over again.

Thinking time is definitely over.

Whatever Hugh wants, Hugh is going to get, at least for tonight. I lick my lips.

“Tell me what to do.”

7

Hugh

Oh, that’s tempting. If anyone needs a firm hand, it’s Lachlan. He’s wound so fucking tight. But we’re not in a good place for that kind of strict power exchange right now. Probably not any kind, but I’m not a play-it-safe kind of guy.

I kick his feet wide, making space for me to get closer.

The groan I get in return is magical.

I give him a dirty half-grin. “Take off your shirt. Let me see you shiver for me.”

He grabs the hem and peels it up his body, tossing it to the side. He’s beautiful. Big and broad, hard planes of muscle running flat across his body. A familiar line of hair running down his lower abs, thicker now than a decade ago. His muscles are different, too. He’s bulkier, harder, but not as cut as he once was. Not as lean through the chest, but those narrow hips are still carved from granite.

My cock flexes, thickening in reaction to a sight I’ve been deprived of for far too long.

Lachlan’s gaze drops, and I know he can see the bulge in the front of my dress pants.

“Touch me,” I tell him, my voice low. Smooth.

He’s so fucking eager. His hands shoot out, one landing on my thigh, the other going straight for the goods. Ah, fuck yeah. I grow against his fingers, throbbing under his touch. He traces my length through my pants, up and then down again. He cups my balls and I rock up onto my toes, flexing my thighs to give him more space.

We need more space. More skin. More than however long he’ll give me until he kicks me out because he regrets this.

Fuck, we shouldn’t be doing this if he’ll regret it.

But I won’t.

And maybe I can make it good enough that he won’t, either.

His hands go to my belt, then he pauses. I die a little inside, but his fingers tighten as he glances up at me. “Do we need a condom for this?”

Relief pulses through me. I shake my head. I wouldn’t put him at risk. “Haven’t been with anyone since I cleared my physical for the transfer.”

The hungry grin he gives me is a dirty promise I have no doubt now that he’ll keep. Deftly, he gets my pants open and they fall down my thighs. I step out of them, then sway my hips toward him again. He leans in, his breath ghosts against my skin. Yes, yes, more. I don’t wait for him to do it. I shove my boxer briefs down my hips, and my dick bobs out, hard and heavy.

His hand wraps around me and his mouth, wet and hungry, covers the tip. Yeah, fucking eager. And perfect.

I growl as he swallows me deep. Not all the way to the root, but right to his fingers and that’s good enough. I tangle my hand in his hair and start to control his movements a little. Force him to slow it down, and hold me at the entrance to his throat when his lips are wide around my base. Ease him off when he’s greedily swallowing more of my flesh, making him moan a little from the denial.

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