Winter Solstice in St. Nacho's (St. Nacho's #5) - Z.A. Maxfield Page 0,71

wore controllers on his hands and moved them in quick punching motions, probably playing a game.

“Just a second.” He held up a hand for us to wait. Apparently that was the wrong move because a second later, he gave a quick, downward slap. “Oh, shoot.”

Tug and I eyed each other. Tug’s eyes traveled from mine to my lips and back. I fidgeted, waiting for the man to finish whatever it was he was actually doing.

Time was in short supply. Tug’s hand slid up my arm, and our gazes met again and locked.

Tug’s eyes softened with something like sorrow.

The hand on my arm became a caress I leaned into. His fingers slid to my shoulder, then to my neck where they curled around my nape and stroked the fine hairs there. My heart pounded so hard I could hear it in my ears. Something about Tug’s mouth did extraordinary things to my dick. I’d never been that turned on before.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered.

I shivered all over.

He leaned up and pressed his mouth to my cheek. The kiss was brief, but I turned to him, pressing my hot forehead against his while the very air around us seemed to crackle with tension.

The old man behind the registration desk shouted, “Take that, asshole!”

He whipped off his goggles and blinked against the light. “Sorry to keep you waiting. I’d just gotten to the fight when you came.”

I turned to him. “Do you have availability for tonight?”

“Indeed, I do. The holiday-goers have fled, leaving plenty of rooms. You want upstairs or down.” His gaze was assessing and, I thought, amused. I must have looked like one of those Love-o-Meter machines with flashing red lights and sirens going owooga all the way to “Uncontrollable.”

“Up.” I said at the same time Tug said, “Anywhere.”

“I’m Carl.” The man hid his smile. “I’ll put you upstairs. I’ll need a credit card.”

I gave him mine.

“And fill this out please.” Carl handed me a brief questionnaire about my car with a bunch of legalese.

“Thank you,” I said, handing it over after I’d scribbled my answers. My mouth had gone dry, so the words were little more than a croak.

“Park on the left. It’s the fourth room from the front.” I took the key card with nerveless fingers. Tug, who hadn’t let go of my neck, led me outside.

While he waited, I parked my car by the stairs. Our gazes met and held once more before we took the steps to the second level. Without asking, I bought two sodas and two bottles of water. He smiled with gratitude as I handed them over to open the door.

Gathering the drinks in one arm, he wrapped his other hand around my neck again, making a kaleidoscope of butterflies take wing low in my belly.

“You okay?” he asked. “You’re trembling.”

I nodded.

“You sure about this?”

“Yes.” I wasn’t sure at all, but I was well past the point of caring about the consequences. “I want this.”

We barely made it inside before he pushed me against the door and cupped my face for a kiss that went on and on and grew deeper and more powerful as he held me there, pinned by his hips.

My cock was a rigid ache against the zipper of my jeans. He pressed his thigh between my legs, and I rode it like some shameless high school kid. He dug his fingers into my hair and stroked my temples with his thumbs. He dipped his mouth lower, kissing my jaw, my Adam’s apple, down the column of my throat.

“Tug,” I whispered.

“Call me Thuong.” He nipped at my Adam’s apple. “I want to be Thuong for you.”

“Oh God.” I whispered as I pressed my lips to his hair. “Yes. God yes. You’re my Thuong.”

“I am.” He shyly lifted his glassy eyes to mine and repeated, “I’m your Thuong.”

After that, he opened the buttons on my shirt and mouthed each inch of me he uncovered. He found my sensitive nipples with his fingers first, then grazed them with his tongue and teeth. He snuffled into my armpits to make me squirm. I gave up a chortle and tried to touch him wherever he’d let me, wherever I could reach.

He found my ticklish places and the ones that made me gasp audibly, until my shirt was open and he was sliding it off my shoulders and kissing his way down my arm.

In the haze of raw need, I didn’t even question whether Tug’s seduction was organic or artful. He conquered each part of my