Page 3 of Play Hard

“Och, what are you doing?” Not that Liam was complaining—he quite fancied having someone who could manhandle him. He was a big guy, but Robert matched him in size and exceeded him in strength.

“Putting us sideways on the bed,” Robert said, “so your head won’t hit the wall.”

Ooh. Liam wriggled in anticipation. He was about to get rammed within an inch of his life.

First Robert bent over and took Liam’s cock in his mouth, none too gently but still masterfully. Liam held his face as he sucked, caressing his soft stubble. He still marveled that this was really happening: Robert McKenzie, Liam’s own sweet Rabbie, was no longer just his lifelong best mate but also his lover—his attentive, passionate, brilliantly improvisational lover, who had the sort of skills no one who’d spent scarcely a year sleeping with men should possess.

Then again, Robert had a good teacher.

Liam closed his eyes when he felt a slick, probing finger at the edge of his hole. He bore down, greedy for everything.

Though Liam no longer feared losing him as a friend—if Robert was going to outgrow him, he’d have done it while at university—a lifetime of popping in and out of poverty had taught Liam that nothing was permanent.

But this soul-deep understanding just made each moment with Robert more precious. Liam savored every kiss and caress like a fine glass of whisky, the sort he could never afford on his own but would sample at work so he could recommend it to customers.

Robert got into position, knees spread, urging Liam’s hips to tilt up. “Put your feet here.” He placed one on his broad, smooth chest, and Liam followed suit with the other, admiring how his arches fit over the curves of Robert’s pecs.

Then Robert tucked his hands inside Liam’s thighs and spread them wider. Now Liam’s body was locked into his, utterly under his control.

“Nice,” Liam said.

“Saw it in a porno clip. Bookmarked it to show you, but in person is better.”

“Oh aye, it’s—ohhhh.” Liam’s words twisted into a moan as Robert entered him, slowly but confidently. “Fuck, I fucking love you so fucking much.” He punched the mattress beside him to emphasize his point.

“Do you?” Robert rocked his hips, insinuating his thickness another inch, then another.

“Yeahhhurghohmyguh…” And then Liam was out of words as Robert leaned forward, bearing down on him, forcing Liam’s knees to his shoulders and spreading his arse wider.

“Okay?” Robert gasped. At Liam’s shaky nod, he began, first with short, shallow strokes to gain his rhythm and open Liam down below.

“Yeah…more…now,” Liam managed to say, but Robert had already sensed it. His thrusts went deeper, and faster still.

Electric pleasure hummed beneath Liam’s skin. He threw back his head, relishing the feeling of fullness within him, the warmth of Robert’s chest against the soles of his feet, and the bruising grip of Robert’s fingers on his inner thighs. He could already feel the edge of the bed beneath his skull as their bodies shifted over the sheets.

Robert leaned back, looping Liam’s legs over his elbows. Then he lifted Liam’s hips and held him in place at the perfect angle.

Liam couldn’t stifle his cries as Robert began to fuck him hard and fast, just the way he needed it. His feet flailed and his body buckled, shuddering with the orgasm approaching at full speed. His hands found Robert’s thighs and held on tight.

Through it all, Liam’s bed remained steady, and he was more grateful than ever that Robert had bought him a new one for Christmas. The old bed, which had squeaked and squealed like a train pulling into a station, had broken during a particularly wild November night.

Robert increased his pace, at jackhammer speed now. It was almost too intense, this journey too head-swimmingly fast. But Liam kept begging without words for this to never stop, never stop until—

A long, rising wail burst from him as he came. Robert groaned and pushed deeper, his body jerking with each throb of his cock.

Liam fell limp, his neck now bending back over the edge of the mattress. Robert had been right: If they’d been at the head of the bed, there would’ve been serious risk of concussion.

Robert slumped over and pressed his forehead to Liam’s chin. “God,” he gasped. “How do you always know what I need?”

Liam fought for enough breath to speak. “I live to serve. It’s why I’m such a good barman.”

Robert’s chest rumbled with a low laugh. “And why you’ll be an even better massage therapist,” he said as he rolled off and sat up.

Liam made a pouty noise. The last thing he wanted to think about now was further education. Robert had already reminded him twice this month that applications for massage college opened the first of February, now less than two weeks away. He’d been putting it off for nearly a year, claiming indecision over which of three Glasgow colleges to attend.

But Liam knew Robert saw through him. They both knew Liam’s reluctance to change his life went a lot deeper than convenience of location or schedule.

He got up and went to the loo, aware that if he lay down on his pillow for even a second, he’d fall fast asleep and wake up far stickier than he preferred.

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