grip, and Tenny let his head fall back as he lowered himself down, breathing out in a low, moaning rush that sounded like pain, but which looked, from his expression, like ecstasy.
Reese had always loved to watch him when he was like this, flushed, and sweat-shined, all gleaming, clenching muscles, drunk with pleasure. But now there was no one in between them, no barrier; he could look his fill. And this time, the electric pleasure of being inside someone one was coupled with that unfettered view, and it was Tenny, it was all Tenny; it was Reese’s cock wringing those sounds from his mouth, his body offering pleasure that twisted Tenny’s face, and made his hard cock jump and drool against his stomach.
Don’t say anything. But he hadn’t said he couldn’t touch.
Reese sat up, suddenly, which changed the angle.
Tenny swore. “Presumptuous,” he scolded, breathlessly. But he didn’t try to get away when Reese put his arms around him. Gripped his back, his shoulder, his waist, his hips – lifting and dropping, still, until Reese moaned and kissed him.
It was sloppy and uncoordinated, and when they broke apart – Tenny’s eyes glazed and low-lidded, his lips bitten red, his face flushed – Reese’s gaze slid down to his throat, to the scar there, and the smear of red lipstick the groupie had left there earlier.
Without thought, Reese leaned forward and licked the spot clean.
Tenny made a strangled sound and clenched down on him hard. Reese’s hands spasmed along his ribs, and he fastened his mouth to the spot, sucking at the scar, tracing its shape with the tip of his tongue.
“Oh, Christ,” Tenny murmured, his rhythm going erratic. “Oh, Jesus, I can’t–”
Reese felt him come. The splash on his own stomach; the rippling spasms of Tenny’s body.
“You bloody idiot,” Tenny said, though it sounded like praise. He gripped Reese’s shoulders tight. Fisted the hair at his nape. Clung to him.
Then he was tugging his hair hard, lifting his head, their gazes coming together. “Here. Come here to me.” He lay back, and pulled Reese with him, on top of him, still inside him. “Finish. Let me see.” He hiked his own leg up and over Reese’s shoulder, even though he winced, and he smiled wide, though tears sparkled in his eyes. “Come on. I’ve shown you how.”
He had, and so Reese knew to be gentle, and to go easy – not because Tenny had ever told him that, but because Tenny had shown him that under all his sneering and snark, he was unbelievably fragile, so utterly human and laced with cracks, like a dropped piece of pottery.
It was unlike any of the sex Reese had had so far.
It was better.
And, after, shaking and gasping, Tenny stroked his hair and murmured, “Good boy. Christ, what will we do?”
~*~
Carter sat on the side of the bed, his legs open, Leah standing between them, already breathing hard just from kissing. They’d maneuvered over here a little awkwardly, lips locked, and then Carter had sat. When she’d tried to follow him down, all ready to straddle his lap, as willing and eager as last time – more so – he’d halted her with gentle pressure from both hands at her waist. He wanted to look a minute.
He couldn’t get over wanting to look at her, and even if he didn’t quite understand it yet, it was one of the few things in all of this he wasn’t going to question. He thought, though, that it had something to do with not being able to believe that this was Leah, after all these years, and that she was this open, hungry, sexual woman in a way he’d never expected – and that she was hungry for him, even though she’d once been the kind of girl who could flay a popular boy alive with one look and a dismissive chuckle.
That was the thing about her, and about Ava: they’d always felt like outcasts, rejected by the girls in his own social circle. But rejection could move both ways, and they’d had no idea of their own power to wound back then.
He suspected they did now, at least a little. Definitely Ava.
And Leah, it seemed, had learned that it wasn’t so hard to get his pulse knocking.
With the lamplight shining behind her, her white shirt turned nearly translucent. He could see the narrow shape of her waist through it; the opaque white cups of her bra; the tiny pink bow on the bit of band between