Page 86 of Role Model

“You are so fucking hot,” Harris said. “Thought I was gonna die on that beach. And not from the waves.”

“From the mile-long killer jellyfish?”

Harris laughed. “No. From how much I wanted you to push me down on the sand and straddle me.”

Troy caressed Harris’s beard. “Is that what you want? You wanna be pushed down and taken?”

Harris’s mouth dropped open because yes. “God yes. So fucking much.”

“You don’t want me to be gentle with you. That’s what you said.”

“I don’t. I want you to...” Harris couldn’t finish his sentence for some reason. Possibly because the reality of the situation was catching up with him. He’d never actually had someone treat him exactly the way he craved. He needed to be with someone he trusted, and who was willing and able. He may have found the perfect person.

He swallowed, and squared his shoulders. “I want you to be rough with me. I’m not a masochist but, just, don’t treat me like I’m delicate, okay?”

Troy brushed a thumb over Harris’s cheekbone, his blue flame eyes dark and intense. “You’re not delicate, Harris.”

Harris felt light-headed. Hearing those words, spoken so plainly by a man he was extremely attracted to, was almost too much. He’d waited so long for someone to say them. “I’m not.”

“I’ve been fantasizing about taking you apart,” Troy said.

There was no way any of this was real. It was too good. “You have?”

“I want to give you whatever you need. Will you let me?”

Harris didn’t answer. He just kissed him with no finesse whatsoever. It was pure need and lust because that was all that was left of him. His hands roamed over Troy’s hard, naked chest and stomach, around to the muscles in his back and shoulders. Troy walked them back to the edge of the bed, then broke the kiss.

“Your turn,” he said, fingering the top button of Harris’s shirt.

Right. Shit.

He watched as Troy opened the shirt, one button at a time. He slid it down Harris’s arms, and Harris shook it to the floor. He was wearing a plain white T-shirt underneath, and he supposed he’d need to take that off too. He let out a slow breath, then tore the shirt off quickly, like a Band-Aid.

And waited.

“Shit, Harris.” Troy brushed his fingertips down the long, vertical scar on Harris’s chest. “What—”

“Not now, okay?”

“But—”

“You promised.” Troy hadn’t exactly, but Harris didn’t want his scars to change Troy’s mind about how delicate he was.

Troy looked like he wanted to push it, but instead trailed his fingers into Harris’s chest hair, away from the marred flesh that Harris hated so much.

“Love all this hair,” Troy murmured. “So fucking sexy.”

Harris sighed with relief and pleasure. “That’s good. I’ve got plenty.”

Troy pulled him on the bed, then rolled so Harris was under him. Troy’s weight pressed him into the mattress while he kissed Harris’s throat, his clavicle, his chest, all while carefully avoiding the scars. Harris gasped when Troy captured his nipple with his teeth, almost too hard, which was exactly perfect.

“Fuck yeah,” Harris exhaled. “Just like that.”

Troy bit it again, tugging at the sensitive flesh with his teeth. Harris whimpered and squirmed, and Troy murmured, “God, look at you.” His words danced across Harris’s skin in a hot rush of air. “I could eat you alive.”

“Do it,” Harris pleaded mindlessly. He wanted Troy to hold him down and fuck him hard. He wanted whatever Troy had fantasized about.

Troy pushed himself up, straddling Harris’s waist and gazing down at him. In the dim light of the bedside lamp, Troy’s smooth skin glowed. Shadows pooled in the grooves between his muscles, accentuating them. Harris ran his thumb over one dark, firm nipple, fascinated. He heard a soft chuckle, and was startled to find Troy smiling at him. A bright, dazzling smile that fully reached his eyes.

---