#Rev (GearShark #2)(12)

All I saw was the look in his eyes.

I rotated, stepping toward the bed.

“Lose the shirt,” he ordered.

With one hand, I yanked it over my body and dropped it at my feet. The second my knees made contact with the mattress, he moved. Without thought to his injuries, Trent palmed my waist and pushed me down. I didn’t fight him one ounce, so it didn’t cost him much strength.

Strong, defined thighs straddled my hips, and when his weight sank onto me, I bit back a groan because my cock was hard and the pressure of his body was heaven.

“Where do you want it?” he rumbled, dragging his fingers down my chest and across my sides.

“What?” All my attention was on his chest, his wide, strong shoulders.

He pinched my nipple lightly and rolled it around between his fingers. I groaned and arched up slightly, totally lost now. I had no idea what the f*ck he was asking me, and I didn’t care.

“Here?” he asked, trailing a finger along my hipbone. “Or here?” He gave my nipple another tug.

I made an incoherent sound and shut my eyes.

The nipple was still a hard pebble, tingling with desire when he let go and trailed up a short distance. “No,” he whispered. “I think here.”

Trent’s big body came down, pinning me against the bed, and his lips locked onto my chest. On my pec, not far from the nipple he’d been teasing before.

At first, he swirled his tongue over the flesh and dampened it, kissing softly, and nibbled at the skin. Then the pressure increased as he sucked the entire spot into his mouth.

He was giving me what I wanted.

Both my hands locked onto his head. My fingertips dug into his scalp, and I pushed his face deep into my chest as he sucked.

“Don’t stop,” I growled, taking it all, even the tinge of pain when he obeyed and went deeper.

It was so satisfying, his mouth on me, knowing when he lifted his head, I would have a mark of where he’d been. I emptied my mind and just felt the pressure of him sucking, felt the pleasure/pain combination with soul-tingling emotion.

“Right there,” I whispered and arched into him more.

I didn’t want him to stop, but he did. Not all at once, but gentling so it was just a soft kiss before lifting his head.

“More, T,” I demanded, refusing to let go of his head.

He chuckled briefly against my skin but then pulled back. “You’re going to have a bruise for a week, man. No more.”

It wasn’t enough.

Trent pushed up off me, his body stiff, his movements controlled.

“Fuck,” I swore. I was supposed to be taking care of him right now, not demanding shit.

“I’m fine.” He started to laugh, but it turned into a gasping kind of cough.

Quickly, I slid out from beneath him and wrapped an arm around his waist, offering to take some of his weight as he settled back against the pillows.

“I’ll get more ice,” I said once he was still, and I reached for the towel.

“No,” he caught my hand. “Stay here.”

Guess I wasn’t the only one who didn’t want to let him out of my sight tonight.

I palmed the first aid kit and rummaged around, finding one last cold pack. I held it up like it was a trophy before rolling it around between my hands and bursting open whatever it was inside that made it cold.

Once it was applied to the black-and-blue part of his side, I left the bed again to change out of my jeans and into a pair of gym shorts.

I wasn’t shy about it either. In fact, I felt his eyes when I fished around for shorts, so I tossed them on the bed and began unbuckling my jeans, almost like I was giving him a show.

Okay, not almost. I was.

I wanted to tempt him. I wanted to torture him a little. Make him see what he was trying to give up.

My thumbs hooked into the waistband, and I pushed down the material. I had to give it an extra tug to get them past my junk, which was still rock hard from him straddling my hips.

Even across the room, I felt the smolder in his gaze. His eyes locked on the most evident part of my desire and held.

Anyone who said cocks didn’t have a mind of their own were liars. Sure, most of the time, they only thought about sex and pleasure, but never as much as when the person who won their loyalty was within reach.

Yeah, loyalty.

My dick was a loyal fellow.

No, you may not call him Lassie.

I was positive, even after tonight, tomorrow my body would only respond to Trent. It was only him I would want.

Realizing that was overwhelming. It was jarring.

In the beginning, it was confusing.

Confusion came from conflict. From not knowing what you wanted. From being unable to admit what you wanted.

I might not have been ready to tell my father about the person my heart chose to claim. I might not have even been ready to tell anyone outside this house, but it didn’t make what I was feeling any less true.

Any less real.

I wasn’t confused anymore because I knew.

Trent was absolute.

Hell, my dick was at attention and my boxers looked like a tent as it pointed to him. The jeans hit the floor when I let go, and I glanced at the shorts on the end of the bed.

Just tonight.

Isn’t that what we said?

I wanted so badly to ditch the boxers and slip beneath the sheets completely naked, but I didn’t. It wasn’t because I thought Trent wouldn’t like it (he was a guy; of course he would like it), but because he was hurting and now wasn’t the time for messing around.