Heat Stroke (Beach Kingdom, #2)(17)

“An answer, Diesel.”

Openly panting against Jamie’s mouth, he gave a jerky nod.

“Uh uh.” Jamie touched his tongue to Marcus’s upper lip and his hips jerked off the couch, a groan rumbling from deep inside him. “Say it out loud.”

It all came out in a rush. “Yes. Please. I want your tongue.”

Conflict rose in Jamie’s eyes, but it cleared just as fast. Was replaced by an emotion Marcus recognized in himself. Lust. Jamie dipped his head, easing their lips together, gently letting his tongue slide into Marcus’s mouth. It was like time suspended as it happened. Their tongues brushed and they both pulled back, breathing heavily. Fear that Jamie would change his mind caught Marcus around the throat and he shot forward to draw Jamie into a kiss, melting back into the couch cushions and bringing Jamie with him.

As if on autopilot, his hands lifted to squeeze Jamie’s boobs. But of course, Jamie didn’t have those. Marcus kind of wanted to curl up and die but Jamie only laughed, a puff of sound that bathed Marcus’s lips in warmth. “I’m not a woman, Diesel.”

“Just double-checking.”

They melted back together. And kissing Jamie was nothing like kissing a girl—and he didn’t miss that softness or the awkwardness or fear of crushing a human to death whatsoever. The scruff of Jamie’s unshaven jaw raked over his chin, his cheeks as they deepened the kiss and the sensation was something he hadn’t thought to fantasize about. But he sure as hell would now. Marcus knew without a doubt that the bristled proof of masculinity would be more than enough to make him hot next time he needed relief. The physical power and strength of a man—the full extent of how much that worked for him was mind-blowing.

Only when attached to Jamie, though. Marcus might be confused, but there was nothing confusing about his growing hunger for something different being assigned strictly to Jamie. Which was scarier? Having sexual cravings he wasn’t familiar with? Or craving only one man?

Those thoughts scattered a second later and all Marcus could think was, either way, I have great fucking taste. Because Christ, Jamie knew how to kiss like nobody’s business. And Marcus didn’t want it to be anybody’s business, unless it was his. Marcus was hit with a fair amount of jealousy as Jamie’s tongue licked at Marcus’s just long enough for him to mimic the rhythm, then…oh Jesus, then Jamie consumed, suctioning his mouth to Marcus’s and pulling deeply. So good. So perfect.

So perfect, in fact, it took a full minute of experiencing Jamie’s technique to realize it was careful and practiced.

Marcus broke the kiss with growl. “You holding back with me, Jamie?”

Jamie looked dizzy, his breath coming in bursts. “Have to. I have to.”

“Fuck that. Don’t kiss me like you’d kiss someone else—”

Jamie dove in with a choked sound, and if Marcus thought he’d been ruined for life and women before, it was proven when Jamie’s mouth moved unrestrained over his, no rhythm to speak of. Just lips colliding, tongues being brandished and sucked on, two sets of hands getting lost in two heads of hair. Lying full against Marcus’s chest, Jamie groaned into his mouth, their mouths slanting across each other, teeth baring and nipping, before resuming the kiss in an increasingly frantic pace.

In need of air, they broke apart and Jamie was the sexiest motherfucker he’d ever seen, his hair all messed up, mouth swollen, eyelids heavy. “Wow,” Marcus whispered.

Jamie’s breath hitched and Marcus could feel the distance Jamie suddenly searched for. Had Marcus said something wrong? He wanted to ask Jamie to please not try to create some kind of wall, but then Jamie unzipped his pants and Marcus could do nothing but gulp, watching with hunger multiplying in his gut as Jamie reached into his jeans. “What were you doing before I got here, huh?” Jamie’s fist moved in his jeans, his head falling back on an exhale. “Trying to convince yourself you don’t need this?”

Watching Jamie Prince touch himself was the hottest vision his eyes had ever been given the pleasure of seeing up close. And Marcus could no more stop his hand from creeping beneath the hem of his own sweatpants than he could live underwater.

“You’ve been watching the wrong shit and we both know it.” Jamie used his free hand to shove the jeans down his hips—and there was his cock. It was…wide. Thick. Kind of like a soda can. It had an upward curve to it that made Marcus’s own dick grow fatter in his fist. “Want to know what I watch? Want me to give you your own private show?”

“Yes,” Marcus rasped. “Please.”

Jamie looked Marcus right in the eye and started to jerk himself off in earnest, faster and faster with his mouth dropped open. Marcus thought Jamie was moaning, but it turned out to be him. Marcus’s fist held his cock in a brutal grip, stroking it top to bottom fast enough to make his balls bounce painfully.

“You like that, don’t you?” Jamie asked.

Moisture leaked from the head of his dick. “Oh fuck. Fuck. Yes.”

“Let me see what’s in your pants,” Jamie said hoarsely. “Show me where all that frustration is coming from. It gets hard for different things these days, doesn’t it?”

“Yes. Yes.”

“Even when you don’t want it to.”

Sides heaving, Marcus nodded his head several times.