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“Okay, what?”

“Okay, Keeper.I’ll tell you what I like.”

How does that sound so fucking good?

“Good, baby.”I land another slap on his ass because I love the way it looks so much.

Then I look down at my precious fucking Fallon, who’s got his ass offered up to me and spread open.I’m aching to slide inside him.

An awful thought hits me.“I don’t have any lube.”

“The desk,” Fallon breathes.“Over there, under the window.I’m pretty sure Wes, uh, watches porn in here.”

Thank fuck for Wes being a perv.I spend a moment digging through drawers until I find it alongside a Fleshlight, which I definitely will NOT be picturing Wes using, and then I get to work lubing up my fingers.

What I want is to slide my hands all over Fallon’s body, tease his sensitive spots, and make it so I would be able to pick him out of a lineup blindfolded.But we’re in a hurry, so I lube up my fingers and get to work.I mean, I let myself enjoy the sight of Fallon’s hole swallowing one finger and then two, because who wouldn’t?But I try not to linger too long.

“You like that, baby?”

“I love it, Keeper.”

“Tell me what else you love.”

He takes a deep breath.“I love the feeling of your fingers inside me.I love when you put your mouth on me.I love how much you frighten me.”

One hundred percent, I need to ask him about that last part later.But… “We don’t have condoms, baby.”

Most of the guys are on PrEP, but I never saw the need.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you.I got tested.We don’t need them.Unless you…”

“Gonna stop you right there, baby.No sex with anybody but you since my ex, I promise.I got tested after her too.”

“Good.Thank God.”His hair moves when he nods, showing me the long, sexy-ass column of his neck.

I slide my fingers out and line myself up, making sure his hole and my cock are well lubed.I slide into him, slow but steady.“You know what I love?”

His harsh pants fill the room.“What do you love, Keeper?”

You.I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with you.

No, I know I am.

But I can’t say that.Not now.Anything said in the middle of sex, he’d only dismiss as heat-of-the-moment stuff like he did before.That’s not what I want.

When I say it, he needs to see how much I mean it.So, I push myself into him until my body is flush with his and he’s groaning at the fullness.

“What I love,” I tell him in a strange growl I don’t think I’ve heard out of my mouth, “what I love is how fucking perfect you are.I love how you feel around me and against me.I love that your hair is long enough for me to tangle my hands up in it.”

I illustrate by doing exactly that, pulling his head back to expose his throat, which I wrap my fingers around.“I love how much you trust me.I love touching every single part of you.I love knowing that you’re mine.”

His moan is strained and strangled and fucking perfect.

I slide in and out of him a few times.Far too slow for his liking, if his frustrated sounds are anything to go by.I know we need to hurry.I’m probably tempting fate, tempting Wes to walk in here and find us.So I speed up.

As much as I would delight in the horror on Fallon’s brother’s face, the sight of his head exploding over me fucking his brother on his precious leather couch, I want to be able to finish without getting interrupted.

I shift my angle until I’ve found that perfect place where I can hit Fallon’s prostate every time.Where I can pull the sounds from him that I love.Where I can see him grit his teeth and flex his jaw and tighten himself around me in a desperate attempt for more.Then I get an idea.I push myself in, reveling in the way I seem to push a breathy groan out of him.