#Junkie (GearShark #1)(66)

I could feel the pounding of his heart against my chest, and I reveled in it. I knew mine likely felt the same, and I hoped he knew it beat so erratically because of him.

Drew retreated from my mouth slowly, like it wasn’t something he wanted to do. Before pulling back completely, he sucked my tongue for one last taste.

His thumb swiped at my lower lip when he spoke. “So you’ll remember that in the morning?”

“I’ll remember that for the rest of my life.”

He grunted like my answer satisfied him. “Good.”

After that, I let myself be pulled into the room. It smelled like him in here, and I took a deep breath. He didn’t bother with the light, and I smacked my shin on the end of the bed.

“Shit!” I growled and reached down to rub the spot.

A small bedside lamp clicked on. “You okay?”

“Fine,” I grumbled and moved around to the far side of the bed.

Drew flung the covers back, and I crawled in. I was drowsy; sleep still had ahold on me. Or maybe it was just the way he kissed.

When my head hit the pillow, I sighed, and he laughed lightly. “Comfortable?”

“This bed is better than mine,” I murmured.

“That’s because I sleep in it.”

“Probably,” I said around a yawn.

The mattress dipped a little with his weight, and the blankets ruffled when he pulled them up and adjusted his pillow. The light clicked off with a distinct sound, and he settled against the sheets.

“Where’s your car?” he asked.

I rolled toward him, seeking out his face in the dark. “At Omega. I took a cab to the bar.”

“Don’t go back there, frat boy,” he whispered.

“Never.” I promised. I lifted my arm, turned onto my back. “Come here.”

He was soundless as he slid across the sheets. His body was almost as long as mine, and we pressed together almost completely. Drew’s head lay on my shoulder; the scruff on his jaw tickled my skin. I tucked an arm around him, keeping him close, and he tossed one leg up over mine, hooking us together.

“You know you can’t leave here until I drive you.”

My mouth kicked up in a half smile. “I’m in no hurry to leave.”

“I kinda want to stay here like this all weekend.” It sounded like a whispered confession.

“Me, too,” I whispered back.

The feel of his fingertips lightly caressing my abs was kinda blissful, and it made me hard (yes, again), but there was no rush to do anything about it. The last thing I wanted to do was move too fast with Drew and ruin what was happening.

But I didn’t want to sleep, it seemed like an awful waste of time with him, so I fought as gallantly as I could. Sleep came anyway; it pulled me down deep.

A little while later when he rolled over, my body followed his.

When morning dawned and I opened my eyes, I half expected to find his side of the bed empty, with nothing but a pillow indent to prove I hadn’t been dreaming.

Drew was still there. We spooned together with his ass nestled firmly against my front.

It was proof this really wasn’t a dream.

Even dreams couldn’t be this good.





Drew

He was hard.

I obviously knew all about waking up with a morning wood, but I’d never woken up to one poking me before.

I lay there with my eyes closed for a while, just taking in the feeling of his big body wrapped around mine. It was different than what I was used to, and I waited for the awkwardness to assault me. Now that the sun was up, I thought I might feel different.

I worried I might feel regret.

I didn’t.

In fact, it was hard to think at all with the distraction of Trent’s rigid cock pressed against my ass.

I wiggled a little, pressing against it just a little bit more. His hips thrust forward, and I smiled to myself.

So I did it again.

His arm, which was thrown over my waist, moved, and the next thing I knew, his hand was around my own morning wood.

“What are you doing, frat boy?” I rumbled.

“If you can tease me, so can I.” His voice ruffled the hair on the back of my head and caused goose bumps to race over my scalp.

I wiggled back against him, and his grip tightened around my shaft. It felt good, so I thrust into his hand for another pump.

Trent lifted one of his legs over both of mine, which changed the position of his cock, and I groaned a little. The pressure of him right up against me was f*cking good.

His leg was like a weight holding me in place as he rubbed and stroked my cock through my shorts. I couldn’t help but roll my hips in rhythm to his strokes, and he joined in, thrusting gently against me, rubbing his length between us.

We rocked together for a while, until it just wasn’t enough. Until I wanted his hands on my bare skin. “Trent,” I pleaded, hoping he understood the need.

His fingers slid to the waistband of my shorts, but he paused. “This okay?”

“Do it,” I growled.

His laugh was throaty when his hand dove beneath my boxers and brushed over the head of my swollen erection. The skin-on-skin contact was so good and it made me moan. He stroked what he could and continued to rock back and forth against me with his length, but my clothes and position were just too restrictive. I wanted more stroking, more of everything.