Page 109 of The Long Game

“Yes,” Jack admitted.

“I could buy another one. So we could each have a plug,” Grady suggested.

Jack’s entire body spasmed, the slick bottle of lube squirting out of his clenching fingers and bouncing off Grady’s chest. Jesus Christ, Jack would be embarrassed if the damn man hadn’t just melted his brain.

Grady grinned and planted his hands onto the mattress, hovering over him. “I could loosen you up with my fingers and tongue, get you good and ready for that purple one,” he promised. Threatened? Jack wasn’t sure he even understood words anymore.

He shuddered, staring up at Grady while he blindly grabbed for the bottle again. By some miracle, he managed to get it open. He might have been proud of himself if he didn’t then dump far too much of it into his hand.

“Or we could start small. Just open you up a little. Then it would be nice and tight when I pushed into you and…” Grady trailed off, shuddering at his own words.Serves him right.Jack would have laughed at him if it was possible for him to breathe. “Would you like that, Jack? Or would you rather I stretch you nice and wide first, so I could slip in so easy, you’d hardly—”

Grady’s words cut off when Jack spread the lake of lube between his hands and grabbed Grady’s cock. It was too much, messy as hell, and exactly what Grady deserved for getting him this wound up.

“Come here,” he gasped, grabbing at Grady’s shoulder with a slippery hand while the other caught his own cock and wrapped around both.

He rocked his hips, and Grady followed, groaning long and low.

“Fuck, Jack, that’s…”

Hot? Filthy? Ridiculous? It was all that, and fucking magical to boot.

Jack worked his cock through the tunnel of his own fingers, feeling every vein and ridge of Grady’s cock rubbing alongside his. He looked down and almost came on the spot at the vision before him.

Grady’s head dropped between his shoulders and he dragged in a ragged breath. Maybe he was seeing the same thing. When he lifted his head again, his eyes were closed, his lower lip caught in his teeth.

Jack wanted to see him come in the bright sunlight. He wanted to hear all the noises Grady could make without thin walls and close neighbors to worry about.

He arched against Grady again and whimpered, desperate for release. “Please, Grady,” he begged. “I need…I need…”

Grady nodded and lowered himself until Jack had to pull his hand away. Jack loved the feeling of Grady’s weight pressing him into the mattress.

Then Grady thrust his hips and Jack’s eyes rolled back in his head.

“Better?” Grady asked as he continued a slow and dirty grind.

The sheer quantity of lube meant they’d both need a shower after this, the slick stuff spreading with the contortions of their bodies, but Grady’s slick, hot belly and hard cock rolling over and beside Jack’s was too much and not enough.

Jack held on for dear life, using his legs to bring Grady closer, arching his back to get more pressure on his cock.

Grady kissed him, and Jack thrust a hand into his hair without thinking. Grady chuckled, probably wondering how much lube was now in his hair. His tongue curled around Jack’s, and Jack kissed him back for all he was worth. Their hips worked together, thrust and roll, until Jack’s back was in a permanent arch and he was crying out Grady’s name, andgod, andyes, over and over.

Tension turned to tingles and Jack moaned happily while Grady rode him hard. He hovered there, wondering if it would be enough, when Grady let out a great shout.

His forehead pressed to Jack’s, Grady gasped a curse before whispering Jack’s name in a reverent, fucked-out rasp.

Andthat. That was what did it for Jack.

21

Colton had taken one look at Jack and Grady when they’d returned home and insisted on wearing his new sleep mask while listening to the baseball game on TV so he wouldn’t “be forced to bear witness to their afterglow.”

Grady wasstillsmiling at work the next day, even if the day dragged—a common affliction on Saturdays. It was so slow, in fact, Grady was excited to get the call about another bar fight at Bull’s. If nothing else, it was a good chance to learn if John Babcock was still hanging around town.

Unfortunately, he was.

As soon as Babcock saw Grady, he disappeared around the back of the bar and wasn’t to be seen again. Grady clocked Babcock’s car in the lot, so he must have taken off on foot. Grady would have loved to chase him down and ask a few questions, but his attention was needed on the pile of drunk and stupid people still tangled up by the front door of Bull’s.

As it turned out, they had to call out a couple of ambulances and were stacking drunk idiots two to a cruiser by the time the dust settled. While Babcock had been among the brawlers, he seemed to have been on the fringe of the real conflict. In fact, noone at Bull’s was much interested in Babcock. Most of the people Grady asked either couldn’t identify Babcock at all or sneered when they did.

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