Page 74 of Home Ice

Barrett’s foot disappears, and he’s immediately up and out of his chair. He grabs my hand, pulls me to my feet, and leads me through the kitchen and out the back door into the dark yard.

“Where are we going?”

“Not far.”

Not far ends up being a few steps outside the back door, where he pushes me up against the house.

His lips find my ear. “Do you know how hard it was to get through dinner, knowing that you were turned on?”

My dick throbs at his husky tone. “How did you know?”

“Because I know you.” He leans down, and wet lips meet my skin. I give in to the feel of him touching me, loving the gentle suction and his tongue lapping at flesh.

“Was it just the way I couldn’t get comfortable that gave me away?”

“Nope.” He sounds like he’s enjoying himself, which is a huge change from how he was earlier. “Your ears get all red. And around your throat. And how you’d look away the second we made eye contact.”

I grab his hips and pull him against me. Dick to dick, it’s exactly what I need. “That’s because I didn’t want your dad to know how desperately I wanted to pull you over the table and into my lap.”

Barrett’s chest stutters against mine. “What would you have done once you got me there?”

“Kissed you,” I murmur against his temple as my hands dip lower to grab his ass. It’s exactly as full and hard as it looks, and I use my hold to coax him into slowly grinding against me. “I would have made you straddle me. Grind against me, like this, until your cock couldn’t take it anymore.”

He groans, breathing going unsteady by my ear. “And then?”

“Then I would have told you to take me out.”

“Just you?”

“Just me,” I confirm. “Your cock would have stayed nicely tucked away. Your ass though … you would have gotten that out for me.”

His shaky laugh hits my skin. “And what would you have done with it?”

“Made you sit on my cock.”

Barrett groans, thrusts picking up in urgency. I’m plastered to the wall of the house as he rapidly loses control. “And … next?”

I suck my fingers into my mouth, getting them nice and wet, then slip them down the back of his gym shorts. “I would have fucked your brains out.” I circle his hole with my wet fingertip, and the strangled sound that leaves him fills me with satisfaction. Like the other night, he’s beautiful when he loses control, and I think I have my answer for whether I want this to happen again.

I do.

Many, many more times.

The tip of my finger slips inside him, and I fuck it in and out. His body trembles, ass clenching around me, and I have a feeling he’s close. I swear I’ve been close all fucking night.

“Shit, Hawke,” he rasps. “I want that. Want you inside me.”

I’ve wanted it since we were goddamn teenagers. It’s one thing for my best friend to make me curious, and it’s a whole other thing to learn that my curiosity was well-placed.

With his forearms braced on the wall on either side of me, his panting in my ear, his cock rutting against mine as he pushes back onto my finger, I’ve never been so turned on. If I had a condom on me, I’d have him face-first on this wall by now, cock buried inside him—no thought to logistics or what we ate or even if we should.

This need between us is primal, a hibernating beast waking after a decade of dormancy, and now it’s conscious, I don’t know how to make it stop.

“I want you to come in your pants, Barrett,” I say, the urge taking over. “Want you to be so turned on that you can’t stop. Make yourself filthy for me.”

“All I can think about is your cock,” he confesses, face flushed in the exact way I love. “I need it. Fuck, I need it.”

His begging has me aching, and there are so many things I’d do to him if I could, but I’ve passed the point of stopping. My heart is a drumbeat, baselining the rhythm of sex, and Barrett thrusts hard and fast against me in time with it.