On the Clock (Market Garden, #8)(41)

“So much.” Jason let his head fall back, squeezing his eyes shut and rubbing against Blake’s palm. “Everything about . . . Please, f*ck me.”

“I fully intend to. But first, you need to strip.”

Jason nodded vigorously, and when Blake let him go, he immediately peeled off his shirt, dropped it onto the concrete floor, and started on his belt. Blake wasn’t in quite such a hurry—by the time Jason was naked, he hadn’t even finished unbuttoning his shirt.

“Over the hood.” He nodded sharply toward it.

Jason gazed at the car, swallowing hard, and went about finding a more or less comfortable position. That was part of why Blake took his time—giving Jason a chance to get as comfortable as he could be while bent over a machine.

As Blake was taking off the last of his clothes, Jason settled on standing directly in front of the car, though he stood back far enough to keep his shins or kneecaps from cracking against the frame. The car was fairly low, especially in the front end, but the hood sloped upward enough that Jason could easily lean over it and support himself on his forearms.

As Jason adjusted his position, Blake paused to stare—wasn’t that a hell of a sight? Jason, naked and stretched out over the hood, his fair skin contrasting sharply with the gleaming candy-apple finish, and the red paint reflecting on his flesh as if to give a preview of how flushed he was about to be.

Blake tore the condom wrapper.

Jason shifted his weight, though it was hard to tell if he was trying to get more comfortable, or if he was fidgeting impatiently. Maybe a little of both. “I’m thinking I should charge for every minute you aren’t f*cking me.”

“Oh really?” Blake rolled on the condom and put on some lube. “How much are you charging me, anyway?”

“Shit. Um.” Jason touched his forehead to the car’s hood. “Should’ve . . . before we . . .”

“We can either negotiate.” He pressed against Jason’s ass. “Or I can f*ck you.”

“Damn it . . .”

“The longer we negotiate, the longer I’m—”

“Fuck me.” Jason’s fingers slid down the hood, leaving a semitransparent streak behind. “Just f*cking— Oh God . . .”

Blake held his breath as he worked himself into Jason. Despite his fatigue, he was turned on beyond belief now, and wanted nothing more than to slam in and f*ck him as violently as he could handle. He held back, though. God knew how long Jason had had this fantasy—long enough to trump his bartering fetish—and Blake wasn’t about to rush it for him. He f*cked him slowly, making every stroke take forever.

Jason pushed himself up, and his face reflected in the windshield. Eyes heavy-lidded, lips apart—f*cking gorgeous.

His head fell forward, and Blake couldn’t see his face anymore, so he grabbed Jason’s hair and pulled it back again. Jason’s eyes flew open. He squirmed between Blake and the car, and mouthed curses that Blake couldn’t hear but could read clear as day in the windshield.

“Like this?” he asked.

“Uh-huh.” Jason shuddered. “You wouldn’t think . . . f*cking over metal would . . . Oh, shit.” Another shudder rocked his body, and his knuckles whitened as his fingers tried to find some purchase on the smooth hood. “Would be comfortable. But it’s so . . . hot.”

“Of course it is.” Blake slid all the way out, and then thrust back in hard enough to make Jason yelp. “You’re getting f*cked over two hundred thousand dollars’ worth of machinery.”

Jason moaned.

“Is that why this turns you on?” Blake asked through clenched teeth. “Getting f*cked over that much money?”

“What’s . . . not to like?” Jason shivered, pressing his fingertips into the hood. “Rich guy. Hot car. Means getting f*cked by a very, very high roller.”

Blake f*cked him faster. “A high roller who knows he’s getting what he pays for.”

Jason cursed softly. “There’s one . . . one more thing I didn’t think about.” His whole body trembled, and he gasped. “Something I didn’t realize would be so . . . f*cking hot . . . about this.”

Blake could barely concentrate enough to speak, let alone understand what Jason was saying, but he managed, “Yeah?”

“Every time . . . you look at this car . . .” Jason turned his head, bringing his profile into view. “You’re gonna think of what this felt like.”

And just like that, Blake came. He thrust into Jason, the shocks creaking and his breath catching, and he f*cking lost it. If not for his death grip on Jason’s hips, he would have collapsed for sure, but he kept himself upright, groaning as he tried to get a little deeper.

His body jerked one last time, and his hand slipped off Jason’s hip, hitting the car and catching him before he would’ve fallen and taken Jason down with him. Steadier now, he took a few slow breaths while his vision cleared and his knees remembered what they were supposed to do.

When he could stand unaided, Blake pulled out and tossed the condom in the trash beside his workbench. “Turn around.”

Though Jason’s legs were as shaky as Blake’s, he did, and this time it was Blake who went to his knees, Blake who was eagerly sucking Jason’s cock while Jason leaned against the sports car.