On the Clock (Market Garden, #8)(15)

Blake shrugged off his own jacket. “It’s all yours as soon as we’re done.”

“I know.” Jason gave the money one last lustful glance, and then faced Blake again and started on the buttons of his shirt. “You’d better believe I’m going to earn it, don’t you?”

“After last night? I have no doubt.”

They locked eyes, and both unbuttoned their crisp white shirts. They tugged them free, took them off, and let them fall to the floor. Jason started on his belt, but Blake decided they’d been apart for much too long, and reached for his wrist.

“Here.” He pushed Jason’s hands out of the way and stepped up close enough for Jason’s hard nipple to brush him as Blake fussed with the buckle. “Let me.” But then he kissed Jason, and his manual dexterity was a distant memory. Bare skin to bare skin, Blake’s fingers around the buckle of Jason’s belt, they kissed. Lazily at first, then deeper, harder.

Blake took a small step back, and Jason stayed right with him, as if to make sure as much skin was touching as possible. He found Blake’s belt, but made no effort to take it off. Instead, his hands followed it around to Blake’s back, then slid down over his ass. His fingers pressed in, pulling Blake to him and reminding him of his own hands still caught between them. On the buckle. That was still buckled.

“You might want to hurry up and get on your knees,” Jason murmured between kisses. “Because I really, really want to f*ck you.”

Blake shivered. “Do you?”

“Uh-huh.”

Damn. Jason had been in control, moving and speaking and breathing like a Dom, and yet at the same time, he was almost as melty as Blake. Yeah, he was definitely into this.

An image flickered through Blake’s mind of Jason eyeing that money, drooling over it the way any other man might appraise a pornographic image.

“You want to f*ck me?” he asked as he finally started undoing that damned buckle. “Or you want the money?”

Jason laughed, his lips barely breaking away from Blake’s. “Does it have to be one or the other?”

“Of course not.” The buckle came apart, and Blake eased the belt free from Jason’s jeans. “But I get the feeling those wads of cash turn you on.”

Jason stiffened. Busted? But then he shrugged and wrapped his arms around Blake’s neck. “I am a prostitute.”

“Mm-hmm.” Blake slid his hand over the front of Jason’s jeans and squeezed just enough to draw a groan out of him. “Something tells me you didn’t become a prostitute because you couldn’t find a ‘normal’ job.”

“The economy isn’t that bad. And I do love my job.”

“Any particular reasons?”

“Well, at the moment, because you’re about to drop to your knees in front of me and suck my cock—all the time wondering what that same cock will feel like when I put it up your arse.” Jason winked. “What’s not to love about that?”

Blake dropped the belt on the chair. “I assume you have to suffer through fewer bullshit meetings and presentations.”

Jason grinned. “That too. I set my own hours, meet interesting people, and get paid well.” He glanced meaningfully toward the floor, but Blake remained standing, and opened the top button of Jason’s jeans.

“I assume you have a plan B?”

“So far, plan A is working nicely.” Jason placed his hands on top of Blake’s shoulders and pushed. This time, Blake went to his knees. He unbuttoned the rest of Jason’s fly and lowered his jeans enough to bare his underwear. Jason’s considerable cock was hard, and Blake traced the outline gently with his teeth—no more than a brush.

Jason hissed. He rested a hand on the back of Blake’s head, and when Blake slipped the underwear down and let teeth glide over skin this time, Jason’s fingers twitched in his hair.

Blake lifted his gaze. “Am I off to a good start?”

“Ask me again once you’ve had the whole thing— Oh, f*ck . . .” He shuddered as Blake teased just beneath the head with the tip of his tongue.

“Sorry,” Blake murmured. “I didn’t catch all of that.”

“Being a smartarse costs extra.”

“Is that your way of saying you like it when I talk back?”

Jason took a breath as if to answer, but one circle of Blake’s tongue silenced him. Or at least reduced him to a low groan instead of whatever comeback he might’ve had.

Blake steadied Jason’s cock with one hand and started stroking the shaft with the other. He teased the head with his lips and tongue, trying not to turn himself on too much with thoughts of Jason bending him over the bed and f*cking him. Jason wasn’t massive like some of the guys at Market Garden, and Blake was completely okay with that. There was something to be said for being f*cked with a dick that wouldn’t have been better suited on a large piece of livestock.

He certainly wasn’t lacking, though. With Blake’s hand wrapped around Jason’s cock, the middle finger and thumb tip didn’t quite touch. His jaw ached, and he could only imagine how the rest of his body was going to feel once Jason was done with him.

Jason’s hips started rocking a little, pushing his dick into Blake’s mouth in time with his strokes. “You like sucking cock, don’t you?”