Page 180 of Game Night: Truth or Dare
Alex shouts out, drawing our attention. “Austin. Give me a hand with the barbeque.”
I use the opportunity to escape and when I glance back, I see she’s got her eyes on the game.
The barbie is already fired up and Alex has sausages sizzling away. The smell is heavenly and my stomach growls. There’s nothing like a sausage sandwich—sausage, fried onions, and tomato sauce, wrapped in a slice of bread—on a relaxing Sunday afternoon.
It doesn’t take long to prepare the rest of the food. There’s also chips and dip, some potato salad, and someone’s brought along a container of chopped fresh fruit. Simple, no-fuss food. We gather around the picnic table, and soon plates are filling up.
Henry is next to me, his leg pressed against mine. He throws me a grin as I pass the sauce his way. This close I can see the tiny golden striations in his brown eyes. They remind me of rays of sunshine.
“Hey, Austin, you want some potato salad?” Violet asks, snapping me out of my thoughts.
“Sure,” I say, taking a scoop from the bowl she holds out.
We eat and chat, but I only have half an ear on the conversation. I’m too absorbed in Henry. Every time he looks at me or his hand brushes mine when reaching for a napkin or more food, my heart races. I’m sure he knows what he’s doing to me when he drops a hand to my thigh and gives a gentle stroke. Oh, yeah, he knows all right.
“I can’t wait to get home,” he whispers a bit later. “You’re coming around, aren’t you? Or shall I come to yours?”
“I’ll be there,” I whisper back.
I usually love hanging with my friends, but this get-together can’t end soon enough.
We finally say our goodbyes and I duck home for a shower, but it’s not too much longer that I’m knocking on Henry’s door. My heart skips a beat when I see him. He’s only wearing a towel, the fabric wrapped around his waist, water droplets dotting his chest. Wow!
He laughs. “Are you going to come in or stand there all day staring?”
He doesn’t give me time to answer, reaching out to grab my wrist and yanking me into the room. I slam into his body, and his arms immediately come up around my neck to tug me down for a kiss.
As we make our way to the bedroom, Henry’s hands explore my body, undressing me with a sense of urgency. I’ve never been more grateful for thongs, shorts, and tees that make stripping easy. Our lips never part for more than a second, and I throb with anticipation until finally we’re lying on the bed, our bodies touching in all the right places.
His cock is rock hard pressed against my aching dick. He raises his leg over my hip and presses closer to slide along my length. I undulate my pelvis until we’re meeting thrust for thrust. I swallow his moans as my hands roam over his body and his gloriously smooth skin. I love how his muscles ripple at my touch, how his arse bunches under my palms as he thrusts.
“Holy shit, Henry,” I grind out as pleasure pools in my groin. If he feels this good against me, I can’t imagine how I’ll cope being inside him. Or him being inside me. The thought surprises me. I’ve never seriously contemplated letting anyone fuck me, but for Henry? Oh my God, he can do anything. Everything.
It’s only when he speaks I realise I’ve stilled.
“Are you sure about this?” he asks, his eyes searching mine for any hesitation.
“Fuck, yes.” I’m nervous but there’s no doubt in my mind. “I want this. I want you.”
Henry cups my cheek. “Tell me what you want.”
Right at this moment, I want to show him how much he means to me. I want to take care of him. “You. I want to be inside you. But if you—”
He smiles and silences me with a hand around my cock. “Sounds perfect.”
I can’t resist lowering my mouth to his for another of those blistering kisses. His tongue slides against mine as we resume moving against each other. I could come just like this—from the slow and languid movement and all-consuming kiss. We break apart and Henry looks as lust-drunk as I feel.
“Hang on,” he whispers and pulls away.
I instantly feel the loss, but then he’s back holding out condoms and lube. I look at them stupidly for a moment—it’s all so real. I’m about to make love to Henry. Make love. I blink away the thought and take the supplies from his hand.
He moves to turn, but I stop him with a hand to his shoulder, instead pushing him back against the pillows.
“Is this okay?” I ask, my throat thick.
His nostrils flare briefly as his eyes soften and he nods.
My hands shake as I take my time to get him ready. He keeps his eyes on me, giving little nods, and groans that tell me I’m doing the right thing. It’s been a long time, and I read him for every nuance. I want this to be good for him.
