#Rev (GearShark #2)(45)

“What’d she say?” Drew asked, holding open the door from inside the room and patiently waiting for me to enter.

Slipping the phone into my pocket, I stepped in, and the definitive click of the door latching behind us made the hand curled around the handle of my duffle spasm just a little.

“Said she’d be here in twenty.”

“I didn’t make dinner plans with her,” he muttered.

“I don’t think she cares,” I cracked and headed through the main room toward the bedroom.

The room itself looked almost identical to the one we stayed in before.

Like we were getting a do-over.

The door opened into a square sitting area with a large dark-gray couch (that pulled out), a coffee table, rug, and lamp. Against the far wall was a small brown table that could seat four, and there was a huge flat-screen on the wall.

Near the door that led to the bedroom was a wet bar with a granite-topped counter and sink. There was a mini fridge, coffee maker, and all the other usual stuff hotels laid out for guests. I bypassed it and stepped into the ample square bedroom.

The bed was in the center, made up all in white. Still looked as fluffy and comfortable as the first time. There was a flat-screen, some other furniture I barely even looked at, and a door that led into the bathroom.

Everything in the suite was done in muted shades of gray and white. It was a clean design, and I was glad there wasn’t a bunch of granny decorations. You know, mauve flowers and shit.

My duffle hit the floor near my feet.

“You gonna share that big-ass bed this time?” Drew asked, watching me from the doorway.

I turned and matched his sly smile with one of my own. “I’d have shared it last time, too.”

His duffle joined mine, and he dove on the bed. He was wearing a pair of jeans—for once they weren’t nearly black. These were faded and soft-looking; around the hem, they were starting to fray just slightly.

When he rolled and stretched his arms beneath his head, the long-sleeved blue T-shirt he was wearing rode up and exposed a sliver of skin at his waist.

I couldn’t stop staring at that peak of skin. I daydreamed about leaning over him and tracing the area with my tongue…

“Are you listening to me?”

“Huh?” I said, snapping out of the fantasy.

His smile was slow and knowing. “I was planning on room service, some TV, and clothing optional.”

“Shower with the door open?” I added.

“I like the way you think, frat boy.” His dimple flashed, and he patted the mattress beside him.

Instead of lying down, I dove on the bed. Right on top of Drew.

“Ugghhh,” he groaned when I landed. “Are you trying to kill me?”

Ignoring the protest in my ribs, I pushed up onto my elbows and hovered over his face. “You need mouth to mouth?”

I didn’t bother waiting for an answer. I didn’t really care. I was the one who wanted mouth to mouth.

The deeper I kissed, the farther I sank into him. We molded into the bed as a single indent, one of his legs pushed through mine, and I kissed just a little deeper. As we fused together, I rubbed my chin against his stubble, letting the rough sensation send goose bumps down my spine.

I liked him beneath me. It made me hungry… It made me want a lot more than mouth to mouth.

In what was slowly becoming a signature move, I ripped my mouth free, grasped his chin, and pushed his head back so I could kiss across his jawline and suck down his neck.

Drew’s fingers delved beneath the waistband of my jeans and kneaded into my flesh. I came back to his mouth, licking past his teeth and rubbing both my lips fully against his.

“Cancel dinner,” he quickly said before letting me take his lips again. “Let’s stay in.”

I groaned and, without lifting my mouth, I fished a hand into my pocket to try and find my phone.

He ended up trying to help me, except I don’t think he was helping me at all. He kept finding something that was not my phone. Damn, his hand felt good. I loved the way my skin seemed to ripple every time he brushed against my dick.

It was like throwing a pebble into the center of a lake. The waves it created stretched far and wide across the surface.

Thought left my brain. I forgot about my phone. Need hammered throughout my body and made me drunk. My hips thrust into him and would have kept the rhythm, but his palms settled on my hips and he pulled his mouth from beneath mine.

“Frat boy,” he groaned.

“Forrester,” I replied.

“Someone’s at the door.”

I stilled and looked down. “What?”

Drew smiled and tugged my lower lip with his fingers. “Someone is at the door, big guy.”

“Big guy?” I laughed.

“Would you rather I say little guy?”

I was alert and amused enough now to hear the insistent knocking on the door in the other room. Damn. Had it already been twenty minutes?

I shoved off Drew and stood. My cock was practically bursting out of my jeans. “Little clearly doesn’t apply here.” I gestured to my fly.

“Maybe I should text Braeden, tell him size matters.”

I laughed out loud. “He’d probably ask for pics.”

On my way to the door, I adjusted myself, trying to conceal the fact I was sporting some serious wood. Thankfully, I was wearing my Wolves T-shirt and it was a little big, so it hung low enough to cover what needed covered.