Page 27 of Room 1003

That was his hand creeping up the inside of my thigh under cover of the table. His touch was light at first but soon turned searching. It took all my self-control to keep my expression neutral and my moans contained. My pants were getting a little tight, and I hoped I wouldn’t have to stand up anytime soon, or it might get embarrassing.

Poor Kit was practically wilting into his plate, his eyelids drooping and chin dipping toward his chest. It was past his bedtime, but he had insisted on staying up. He didn’t want to miss a thing.

Shane’s hand retreated, leaving me cold and missing his touch. “I’d better get Kit to bed,” he said, pushing back his chair. “It’s been a long day.”

Zack waved his hand to indicate that Shane should sit back down. “I’ll get him,” he said. “You entertain our guest.” His eyes twinkled, and there was a smirk pulling at his mouth. “I probably won’t be back for at least twenty minutes.” He pulled out Kit’s chair. “Come on, dearest. Time for bed.”

Kit whined some half-hearted complaints but was otherwise willing. He was too tired to mount much of an argument. He dragged his feet all the way to the stairs.

Shane turned those blazing eyes on me. “Alone at last,” he said, his voice husky.

Zack had said twenty minutes, but that didn’t leave us much time. The question was: what were we going to do with that time? I started stacking the plates and cutlery.

“What are you doing?” Shane asked, his brow furrowed in confusion and maybe a little disappointment.

“Whoever cooks, the other cleans. That’s the rule.” I headed to the kitchen with the dirty dishes and put them in the sink. When I turned on the tap, it gave a loud squeak, but I was glad to see there was no problem with the flow of water. I added some soap, the sink quickly filling with bubbles.

Shane followed me in and placed a hand on my arm, the heat of him absorbing straight to my core. “We should let those soak,” he said firmly, turning off the tap and taking my hand. I let him tug me out of the room.

This was a whole new side of Shane, and I liked it. He was bold and assertive, taking control of the situation. I didn’t want to rush him or push too hard, and this took the uncertainty I was feeling out of my hands.

“Do you want a drink?” he offered.

“No, I’m okay.”

“You’re not… thirsty?” There was a teasing lilt to the question, and he smirked at me over his shoulder.

My heart began to beat harder. “Oh, I’m parched, all right,” I told him honestly, my eyes roaming down his body, settling on his tight ass. Gods, I could drink from him for days if he’d let me.

We’d arrived at the couch, and Shane turned around and gave me a little nudge to sit. I lowered onto the couch, feeling the pinch of my pants as it crowded my hardening cock. Even though there was an entire couch to sit in, he settled himself down next to me, close enough that our bodies were in contact all the way from knee to shoulder.

Shane turned to me, and his expression was pleading. “Ben…” he whispered, and that one word was filled with such longing. He tangled his fingers in the front of my shirt, dragging me closer.

As my lips came down on his, I felt an intense sense of relief. I sighed against his mouth, reaching for him and hooking an arm around his waist to bring him closer, but it didn’t feel like enough. I wanted more. There was an explosion of emotions between us, desperation and weeks of pent-up need coming to a head. It was everything I’d ever dreamed it would be and more.

Our first kiss had been so faint, barely there. This… was not that.

Shane attacked me with a desperate need. There was nothing gentle about this kiss, nothing innocent. He opened his mouth, and I delved inside with my tongue, groaning. The little sounds he made turned me on like nothing ever had. And the way he clung to me like he needed me more than air to live, it made my head spin.

Things quickly got out of control. Shane weighed nothing as I picked him up and dragged him onto my lap, and he instinctively brought his leg around to straddle me. He moved against me like he was riding my cock, and the friction it caused had me fully thickening.

“Oh, fuck,” I panted, kneading his ass. His pants felt damp, and I drew his shirt up so I could slide one hand down the back of his pants, teasing a finger along his slick crack.

Shane jerked his hips, whimpering, before grinding his erection against mine, already searching for release. I tangled my free hand into those unruly curls that drove me wild, holding his head in place so I could thoroughly explore his mouth with my tongue, taking broad sweeps. I would dream about his taste every night from now into eternity.

“Ben, I want you,” he said through panting breath. He reached between us and rubbed his palm over my crotch. “Holy shit,” he gasped, pulling back to stare down in awe as he traced the outline of my shaft all the way to the tip. I loved the shining lust in his eyes as he took in my size.

“Like what you see?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.

He nodded, licking along his bottom lip, and I couldn’t stop myself from biting that lip. I needed him closer, but there was too much clothing in the way. While I pulled his torso flush with mine, I slid my hand deeper inside his pants until I felt his puckered entrance, quivering under my touch. The angle was horrible, his pants too tight to do more than insert a single fingertip, but given another minute, I could’ve brought him to a climax like this.

Unfortunately, that was the moment we heard footsteps on the stairs.

Groaning, we broke apart, and Shane scrambled off my lap and settled back on the sofa beside me. Zack was obviously walking slower than usual, with a heavier step to make sure we heard him. While I appreciated the warning, I really could’ve used another minute or two alone with Shane instead.

I quickly sucked the slick from my finger, wishing I had more time to savor the musky flavor. With my clothing tugged back into place, hair smoothed down, I looked over at Shane and laughed. There was no fixing his hair, and his lips were swollen, cheeks red from being abraded by my beard. “Oh, dear. Maybe I should shave,” I suggested under my breath, dragging my thumb across his raw skin.

“Don’t you dare,” he hissed. “I want to feel you on my thighs.” Holy fucking gods, that image.

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