Page 54 of A Box of Wishes
“And I’ve realised you’re a little tease,” Ben growled. Then he flattened his palm across Ryan’s lower back and yanked their bodies together. “Or not so little.”
They were both hard, and a moment later they were kissing as if it was the only thing keeping them alive. Ben’s hands were on Ryan’s arse, kneading and rubbing, and Ryan was about to lose his mind. He’d thought their New Year’s Eve kisses had been hot. But they’d been tepid nonsense compared to Ben’s tongue in his mouth, Ben’s teeth tugging at his lower lip, Ben’s hot mouth on his neck, and Ben’s firm grip holding him in place.
Ben Hobart pushed all his buttons. At once.
The only way this could be better was if they were naked.
If he was writhing under Ben.
The very idea almost sent him over the edge.
“Ben. Do. Something.” He babbled without knowing what he was saying, and clutched at Ben’s skin, his body burning. He couldn’t catch his breath. All he knew was that he… wanted. And that Ben was careful.
He mauled one side of Ryan’s jaw and brushed butterfly kisses over the other. And while his grip on Ryan’s hip might leave marks, his touch on Ryan’s midriff was gentleness itself.
As if he sensed Ryan’s growing desperation, Ben rolled onto his back and pulled Ryan on top of him. “I want you so much,” he whispered against Ryan’s neck. “But I don’t want you hurting.”
Ryan smashed their mouths back together. On a sob or a moan, he couldn’t say. How had he found a man as perfect as Ben? What had he done to deserve such a boon?
He pushed himself up far enough to let him slide his hands under Ben’s T-shirt, rubbed his palms over hard abs and pebbled nipples, and raked his fingers through the smattering of hair. He wanted to see what his hands discovered, but he was too far gone, rubbing against Ben, mindless and wanting. Until Ben found enough coordination to reach between them and gather both their cocks in his fist.
They groaned in unison at the sensation, and Ryan rocked his hips, pushing into Ben’s hold. Hot, silk, salt, blue… his mind disconnected. Ben, stretched out beneath him, panting and moaning, commanded all his focus. Their mouths, together. Ryan’s hands in Ben’s hair. Ben’s hand stroking them both.
It wasn’t the sweet, languid lovemaking Ryan liked to indulge in. This was hot, and messy, and all kinds of wonderful until it ended—far too soon—in white-hot bliss.
Insights
A wet nose on his cheek and a paw on his chin woke Ryan before Ben’s alarm could. He rubbed his jaw against the cat’s and stretched, glad when his midriff issued only minor complaints. He turned his head, caught sight of the clock on Ben’s bedside table, and shot upright so fast, he had to grab Morris before he sent him flying.
“What?” Ben stirred.
“Your cat really is better than an alarm clock,” Ryan said. “Unfortunately, he’s calibrated for your workday not mine. I’m late!” He slid out of bed and set the cat back on the quilt. “Can I grab a quick shower?”
“Of course.” Ben turned on the bedside light, and Ryan’s lips curved into a smile. Hair sticking up every which way, sleep-shadowed eyes, and a delicious shadow along Ben’s jawline tempted Ryan back to bed. A second look at the clock sent him racing for the bathroom.
“Gods! I’m late!”
There was no time for sleepy kisses let alone anything more vigorous. Ryan minded that. A lot.
He reviewed the contents of his freezer while he took the fastest shower ever, and brushed his teeth wondering which of his regulars would be happy with iced buns and a panini while the bread baked.
The bedroom was empty when he returned, the bed made.
“Ben?”
“With you in a minute.” Ben’s voice carried over the sound of water, and Ryan hustled into his clothes. It wasn’t the way he’d wanted to start his morning. Not after the way Ben had taken care of him the previous night. And not after getting off together so sweetly.
“Opening the cafe and feeding the caffeine-deprived masses is an important job,” he reminded himself.
“I’m not arguing. Much.” Ben dropped a kiss on Ryan’s cheek as he slipped past in a cloud of aftershave. “Sorry about the alarm. Didn’t occur to me last night that your day starts before mine does.”
It wasn’t until they were in the car that the aches and pains of the previous night’s attack made themselves known. Ryan’s sore jaw and bruised cheek had spawned a nasty headache, and the muscles in his torso protested every time he moved.
“I didn’t even check if I’m presentable,” he muttered. “And I didn’t mean to drag you out of the house like this.”
Ben’s fingers were warm on his, comforting and reassuring. “Feeding the caffeine-deprived masses is an important job, remember?” He pulled into the courtyard and turned off the engine. “I’ve brought painkillers. And to make up for making you late, you can put me to work.”
“Put you to work?”
