Page 49 of Unlocked Dive
“An experiment. Did it have the desired effect?”
“One of them.” I bat my eyelashes as he brings his other hand up to cup my jaw, holding my head trapped between his rough fingers.
“Put your hands in my pockets,” he commands, and I try to grin against his grip, slipping my fingers into the layers of denim hugging his ass.
They brush the unmistakable shape of a foil-wrapped ring, and all the strength leaves my body.
“You brought condoms,” I breathe, heat rocketing through me.
He bends his head and runs his scruff along the shell of my ear.
“I think it’s time for you to ride my cock until you paint my chest with your cum.”
There’s that swoon.
“That was only the first half of my fantasy,” I manage to gasp out. His chuckle is a vibration I feel all the way to my toes.
“Don’t press your luck, altar boy.”
“Are you safe to drive?” I ask, fighting sudden panic. “I really don’t want to die in a ditch right before I finally achieve my life’s dream.” I’m also not sure I’ll survive the forty-minute drive back to the cabin without jumping his bones, but he shakes his head, grabbing my hand and tugging me toward the exit.
“I got a room in town.”
Thank fucking god.
21
Byrd
I’m fucking nervous.
Despite a couple of short-lived hookups during my touring days, the last guy I didthiswith was Gabriel, and the last thing I can handle right now is his goddamn ghost in my head, taunting me with all the ways I fucked it up.
It helps that Echo is bouncing on his toes like a kid at Disney World and humming something I think is supposed to be “Hot for Teacher” under his breath while I fumble with the old-fashioned key to our tiny rented cottage. Gabriel was mocking, teasing—he could even be playful as long as he made the rules—but he was neveruninhibitedthe way Echo is.Never so uncomplicated in his eagerness for me.
Giving up on the lock, I trap the man in front of me against the door and kiss him until I’m no longer haunted, drowning myself in the new texture of his shorter hair, the familiar glide of his tongue exploring all the corners of my mouth, and the hard immediacy of his rigid cock grinding rough against mine through two layers of denim.
Echo. More real for a few short months than Gabriel was for a year and a half.
“I’m down to go against the door for the first round,” he teases, lips barely leaving mine, “but we are in the middle of town. It would suck to get arrested before we get off.”
“I think I dropped the key,” I admit, peeling reluctantly away from the eclipse of his body to scan the flower-lined stoop at our feet.
Echo retrieves it from the shadowed sill and lets us into the room. The queen bed, with its dark wood frame and white antique-looking quilt, takes up most of the space, and a couple of high windows look out into the dark garden courtyard.
“We’re gonna tear this place apart,” he says, grinning as he takes in the small, delicate nightstands and matching rocker.
He strips off his clothes and throws himself onto the bed, bouncing a few times and rocking it experimentally against the wall. I shake my head, wondering how drunk he is.
Drunk enough to kiss Josha and think it was a good idea.
But even though the image of his long fingers curled around Josha’s neck stirs the primal, possessive part of me, I mostly feel sorry for the kid. I’m pretty sure awakening my inner caveman was only an added perk for my little brat. Gemiah was the real target. Manipulation with the best intentions, but still…
I toss our small overnight bag onto one of the nightstands but stay standing a few feet from the bed as my creeping demons claw at their flimsy chains. Echo finally goes still, sensing my shifting mood.
He’s kneeling naked in the center of the mattress like an offering from my wildest dreams—ink and parchment and watercolor blue—his erection exquisitely flushed, curved against the cut of his abs. Something fragile flickers in his eyes.
“Am I okay?” he asks, and my heart staggers at the choice of pronoun.
