Trent broke the kiss with a gasp and stilled my hand. “Damn, you’re killin’ me. Are we doin’ this here? Or is Jeeves home?”
“Who’s Jeeves?”
“Your butler.”
We devoured each other with another round of passionate kisses until we ran out of oxygen.
“I don’t have a butler,” I panted, nibbling his jaw.
“That’s good. So we can do this here.”
Trent shoved his jeans over his ass and pulled my trousers down before capturing my mouth again and grinding his hard-on alongside mine. I grunted my approval. One less layer of clothing made a big difference, but my boxer briefs were already wet. I wasn’t going to last if we kept this up.
I pushed his chest and inclined my head meaningfully. “Come with me.”
We hurried upstairs. The second I opened the door to my room, our clothes, shoes, and socks went flying. I switched on my bedside lamp in between feverish kisses, threw my duvet to the end of the king-sized mattress, and jumped into bed. I propped my pillow against the headboard of the four-poster bed, reaching for my cock.
When our eyes met, I closed my fingers around my shaft and stroked…nice and easy.
“Oh, yeah. Keep doin’ that,” Trent rasped, stalking toward me with his dick standing proudly at attention in front of him.
Christ, he was beautiful. Thick and muscular with the perfect amount of hair on his toned chest. I caressed the skull tattoo near his prominent V-line and made sure I had his attention when I cupped his balls and gently rolled them. He hiked his knee on the bed and grabbed his dick.
I took a moment to appreciate how fucking strange life could be. Half an hour ago, I’d bought him a burger and engaged in frivolous small talk to kill time on the drive home while wondering what the hell I was going to do with myself tonight, never dreaming it would be him. One careless comment had changed everything.
I’d do you.
Three little words and look at me now—legs spread open, jacking myself, and fondling a stranger’s balls. I was nothing if not a class act, I mused sarcastically.
You’d think I’d have learned to control my self-destructive instincts by now. Not quite. I had no doubt I’d wake up with a hangover and a head full of regret. But at this very moment, I didn’t care. I needed a diversion, and Trent was fucking perfect. He was sexy and solid and real. And I hoped like hell he was a top, ’cause I really wanted to get fucked.
I ran my forefinger along his length, circling his crown and smearing precum over my thumb. I met his gaze as I sucked it clean, loving his needy growl.
“You taste good,” I purred.
He tapped his pole against his lower abdomen. “Have another taste.”
I smiled and bent to lick him from base to tip, twirling my tongue around the wide crown a few times and sucking him with all I had. No kidding. I was a human vacuum…lick, suck, lick, suck…and I never stopped stroking. Him or me.
I had a passing thought that I would have loved for him to come all over me. Stand over me and paint me with his jizz. The idea alone was enough to make my balls tighten. Cum on my chest, my stomach, my cock.
Oh, fuck. Slow down, Seb.
I stopped abruptly, hoping to shore up a bit of control. I patted the empty space beside me. “C’mere.”
Trent obeyed, straddling my thighs and lying flat on top of me like he was riding a surfboard out to the breakers. I wanted to laugh at his antics, but the weight of his body sent a shock wave through my system. He was big and heavy and he felt just like—
“You’re bossy, aren’t ya?” Trent yanked my arms above my head and held my wrists captive.
My traitorous mind forgot where it was going when he hooked his feet around my legs and rocked his thick length against mine. That rocking motion gained momentum. He sucked on my tongue while he pumped his hips, trapping our cocks in a tight hold. It was heaven. Just heaven.
I could feel myself give in to sensation and let my mind float away. That was a bigger deal than it should have been, but I tended to play the part of conductor in a sexual orchestra. What can I say? I was a control freak. But I didn’t want control tonight. I wanted to forget.
Forget everything. Where I was, who I was with, why I was here. If possible, I wanted to forget my name. Something told me Trent could help me get there.
He released his grip on my wrists and braced himself on one arm, then took us both in hand and stroked.
“Oh, fuck. That’s good.”
He bit my bottom lip. “Only good? I can do better.”