No Good Mitchell - Riley Hart Page 0,40

show him how much he affected me, but my dick was already starting to swell.

“Oh yeah? What do you want to talk about, O’Ralley?”

“We’ve done enough talking for now, don’t you think, Mitchell?”

My breath hitched when he grabbed my chair, his hands on the armrests, and pushed it away from the desk. Brody stood above me with a very obvious bulge in his jeans.

“Got something you want to share with me?” I rubbed the back of my hand over the lump beneath his fly.

Brody’s hand shot out, surprising me. He wrapped it around my wrist, then went to tug me to my feet, but I pulled right back. He stumbled forward, but then the chair rolled. Brody kept going, pushing my seat backward until it clunked against the wall.

“I think you owe me some gratitude, don’t you?” My eyes darted down to my erection, achy and uncomfortable already.

“That’s how you want it, huh? You want me to suck you off for the first time because I owe you?” He crossed his arms, and damn it, he had a point.

“No, I want you to blow me because you want the taste of my dick on your tongue.”

He paused a moment, and I could see the shock on his face. I was sure Brody wasn’t used to hearing lovers talk to him like that, but if there was one thing I knew about him already, it was that he could give as well as he could take. Brody matched me that way. “Or choking on your cock the way you’ll be doing mine.”

Before I could respond, his mouth crushed mine. He tasted like lust, that sharp fucking tongue of his pushing into my mouth, taking control right from my grasp. We battled that way, Brody taking and me giving.

I tried to stand up, but he wouldn’t let me. He held me down, kissed the hell out of me, then tugged me to my feet. “You bossy fucker. Stop trying to get everything on your terms.”

“Like you’re not doing the sam—” His words were cut off by my lips against his, my tongue in his mouth as we stumbled toward the couch, kissing and tugging at clothes that didn’t want to come off because our lips were fused together.

When I pulled back, Brody gasped, leaned in, his mouth trying to chase mine. Instead, I pulled his shirt off, then mine. Before I could recover, he pushed me down to the couch. I caught his belt loop with two fingers and jerked him down with me.

I lay down, Brody on top of me. He thrust his jean-covered erection against mine, the simple movement making me nearly beg for more. He went straight to my head, made me feel lust-drunk, desire-drunk, but also curious-drunk and happy-drunk in this strange way I had no business feeling about a guy I didn’t know.

“What is it about you?” he asked before nipping at my neck, then sucking.

“Get out of my head,” I replied, because he’d been thinking of something so similar to me.

“What?” He looked down at me, his brows drawn together.

“Nothing.” I pulled him down so we were kissing again, practically humping each other on the damn couch. I wanted to strip him bare, take him to my room, get him out of all his clothes, and take my time with him, but I was too turned on, too hungry for him to even try.

I growled when he pulled away, then slid to his knees on the floor. Brody’s fingers shook as he unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans. I lifted my hips and let him pull them and my underwear off. My cock jerked against my stomach, a pearl of precum at the tip that I wiped off and licked.

“Oh fuck, that was hot.”

“You gonna take your clothes off too?” I asked.

He stood, and I leaned forward, worked his pants open and tugged his jeans and briefs down. I stopped at his feet and let him worry about taking them the rest of the way off, while I leaned in and nuzzled his groin. I inhaled, let his heady, masculine scent make me feel drunk that way too.

I looked up at him and lapped at his balls as Brody ran his fingers through my hair. I swiped my tongue across his slit, tasting his precum too. “Now I have both of us on my tongue. You gonna do anything about that, O’Ralley?”

“I’m going to drive you fucking wild.”

I had no doubt he was, but I also knew