Alibi (Brantley Walker Off the Books #5) - Nicole Edwards Page 0,35
was going to change. He didn’t have a long line of men he’d burned or a stockpile he kept for a later date. He tended to go all in.
Until now.
“Fuck me, Trey,” Magnus moaned against his mouth. “I know you want to.”
“I’ll get there,” he assured him. “In time.”
Gripping Magnus’s face, Trey owned the kiss, slowing things significantly but not cooling them off in the least.
The heat he’d felt back at the bar … it’d morphed into a conflagration that burned hotter, brighter with every swipe of that eager tongue. Made him want to do dirty, raunchy things to this man again and again. He wanted to know what sounds Magnus made when he had Trey’s cock lodged in his throat, how deep his groans were when he came.
Eager hands tugged at his jeans while Trey’s hands roamed over the smooth, sleek skin of Magnus’s back. Desperate to maintain control, Trey gripped Magnus’s wandering hands, stilling them for a moment as he pulled his lips free and stared down at him.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were in a hurry,” he said, letting his eyes graze Magnus’s deliciously muscled form. His chest was broad, with just the right amount of dark hair, his nipples small and dark, his pecs flexing as Trey’s eyes lingered. The narrow trail of fine, dark hair that bisected his abs and disappeared into his waistband beckoned to Trey, had him eager to start the exploration with his tongue.
“Trey…”
When Magnus leaned forward, reached for Trey’s cock, Trey gripped his wrist again. “You’re too fucking impatient.”
There was something about seeing such a sexy man like that: chest heaving, muscles bunching, lips swollen from his kiss. Eager, anxious.
“I don’t have time for games, Trey.”
Pinning him with a hard stare, Trey smirked. “If I wanna play games, we’ll play games.”
Stepping forward, he brought his hands up and cupped Magnus’s neck, firmly, roughly, his thumb sliding along the hard line of his jaw. Damn, but the man was hot.
“Unbutton my shirt,” he whispered, curious as to whether Magnus would comply since Trey had stopped him once already.
He didn’t. Not immediately, anyway. But when Trey tilted his head to the side, then leaned in and fused their lips once more, he drew in a raspy breath when Magnus’s fingers began deftly freeing the small discs. By the time cool air caressed his overheated skin, the kiss had ramped up a few degrees. He hated to do it, but he released Magnus’s face so he could shrug out of his shirt, letting it fall to the floor, forgotten.
With Magnus still backed against the wall, Trey leaned into him, rested his forehead to Magnus’s, hissing in a sharp breath when those hands made contact, sliding over his shoulders, down his back. When those wandering hands returned to his chest, Trey focused on breathing while he covered Magnus’s hands with his own, holding them tightly against him, gliding them higher, lower, over and over. He groaned low in his throat, desperate for his touch.
How the fuck had he gotten here? He had no business taking what this man was offering. Perhaps Magnus wasn’t a kid at twenty-four, but he was still far too young for Trey. Twelve years younger, in fact, which should’ve meant he was off-limits.
But there was something about him. Something Trey couldn’t quite pinpoint. Perhaps it was because it was wrong on so many levels, and at this very moment, wrong felt so fucking right.
“You think too much,” Magnus whispered, his hand sliding up behind his neck again, kneading the tense muscles.
“You’re right. I do.” Trey gripped his hips, pulled him closer. “That stops now.”
Then he was leading the way, urging Magnus backward, through the sparsely furnished living room, down the long, narrow hall. He turned to the left, into the darkened guest room, then over to the queen-sized bed. Not that he was opposed to taking a man in his own bed, but Trey had stopped sleeping in there as of late. It reminded him too much of the past, of the mistakes he’d made, of the men who had hurt him.
He followed Magnus down, careful not to crush him but maintaining the kiss.
As he covered Magnus’s body fully, Trey dropped his hips, grinding his aching cock against the hard ridge tenting those damn jeans Magnus still wore. His breath lodged in his throat when Magnus moaned, a sinfully rough rasp against his senses.
“Once won’t be enough,” he warned, his lips never leaving Magnus’s.