balls tightened and tingling began deep within. A few more strokes of an agile tongue…
Armando pulled off.
“You sorry breeding accident! Teasing me like that!” Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn. Kerry was so close!
And damned if he didn’t want to wipe the cocky grin straight off the man’s face.
He bolted upright, grabbed the handsome grinning devil, rolled the guy over underneath him, and ground his cock against Mando’s answering hardness. “I’ll teach you to tease me!” He shoved again, harder this time. The sorry fucker laced his fingers in Kerry’s hair and pulled him down for a kiss. “Hey! You only got permission for one!”
Armando took advantage of Kerry’s open mouth to sweep his tongue inside. Asshole never did fight fair. And then all that mattered was the slick/slide of sweaty skin against sweaty skin, groans and grunts and “Oh, yeah, right there!”
Kerry grabbed onto solid muscle. Damn, but he loved the man’s sturdiness. They could fuck, they could fight, they could walk funny for a week, but when the chips were down, Mando always could match him stroke for stroke and come back for more.
God, how Kerry missed him, corny pet names and all.
He barely spared a thought for the few shifters nearby with amplified senses who could hear the grunts and moans and smell the pre-come and sweat. He couldn’t give a shit. After waiting months to have this man again, damn the consequences. He may have to face The Bull of Armando’s herd after this, but he’d go down swinging.
Gripping flesh that barely dented under his fingers, he prepared to ride “Diablo” for the second time in one day, cock squeezed between their taut bellies. He dropped lower, spit into his palm, and put the moisture to good use against Armando’s hole.
Armando caught his wrist in one callused hand. “No. I ride saddle broncs later.”
Yeah, and if Kerry had his way, the man wouldn’t be able to sit on a saddle. Would serve the bastard right for not being around lately—not that Kerry had given him a choice in the matter, mind you, but hell, might as well blame somebody.
He locked gazes with the man he used to call lover and fell into dark depths. No challenge dwelled in the man’s eyes, nor malice, nor gloating. This wasn’t a conquest. And the scent of his lust filled Kerry’s nostrils, smooth and honest.
Demanding hands grabbed his ass, urging him on, and he bucked against the firm body beneath him, resuming the kiss of his own accord. Armando could owe him for the extras. The tension returned and pre-come slicked the tight channel formed by their bellies.
On a cry to rival any crowded arena, Armando tensed, his cock spewing come to slick Kerry’s way. Kerry followed a moment later into bliss.
…and came to his senses with Armando crooning a Spanish lullaby and smoothing his hands along Kerry’s back. “I lasted longer than you did.” Might as well remind the man of the shaky ground he stood, or laid, on. “By the way, when did you start mooing when you come?”
“Ah, but with such inspiration as you, how could I resist?” the silver-tongued devil retorted. “And I don’t moo.”
Yeah, he’d always known the right thing to say to have Kerry eating from his hand. Too bad Kerry wasn’t the only one. This time, the honeyed words dipped in sassafras and testosterone fell on deaf ears. “Yes, you mooed.”
“Did not!”
“Did too! Moooooo! That’s what you sound like.”
“Wanna try milking me, sweet pea?” Armando grabbed Kerry’s hand and slapped the palm against his slowly rising cock.
Oh hell no. One more round and Kerry would be the one mooing. “Don’t get any ideas. I promised you one kiss. I paid the fine, with interest. Now get your no account carcass out of here before I kick your ass on general principles.” Because if he didn’t Kerry might not let him leave. Dangerous.
“But I thought—”
“Now there’s a first!” Before Kerry gave in and listened to the man’s excuses, he rose, scrubbed away the evidence of their encounter with a napkin, and tugged on his jeans. He’d only been listed as a standby this afternoon. He’d make his excuses and haul his ass far away from here as fast as he could.
Armando propped up on one arm, two-hundred pounds of sexy as hell. “Where are you going?”
“Away from you.”
“Aren’t you going to hear me out?”
“I did. You mooed.” Kerry snatched up his meal, stomped out of the stall, and bit into his hamburger. Almost better than