Page 50 of Iron

“Mr. McClain has already checked in and has dinner waiting,” she concludes.

I do a slow blink, not sure I heard her correctly. I look at Caleb, who has a shit-eating grin on his face, a giggle threatening to bubble out.

“Gavin’s here?” I ask.

He nods enthusiastically, blond bangs flopping. “I’ll get help with the bags. Just go.”

I take off at a run, mashing the elevator button like a madman. Finally on our floor, I slap the key card against the panel just as the door opens and there he is. He doesn’t give me any time to gawk, just yanks me into his big arms, his mouth on mine, holding me against him. The kiss is deep, bruising my lips, sucking on my tongue, and I taste him, oh god, I taste him. I hear myself whimper.

When we finally separate, he sets me down and cradles my face in his big hands, wiping away the wetness I apparently cried. He tugs my hands to lead me into the suite’s kitchenette.

“I ordered food. You will eat, then we will sleep.”

I open my mouth to object, and he cuts me off with a look so stern, I am melting.

“Ok,” I say.

He pushes me into a chair and sets a bowl of tomato soup in front of me, heavy with croutons. He uncovers a plate containing an enormous pile of grilled ham and cheese sandwiches, and I just gape at him. These are my comfort foods. How the hell did he know?

“I asked your father,” he says by way of explanation. “Eat.”

I am starving, so I dig in. I dip the corner of a sandwich into the soup and give a happy hum as the goodness hits my tongue. He smiles, setting his chin in his hand and elbow on the table, just watching me eat.

I hear Caleb directing a porter with our bags, then he disappears into his room, closing the door behind him, not even poking his head in.

Once I have demolished the pile of food, Gavin brandishes another plate and reveals an enormous slice of cheesecake, complete with strawberry jam and two forks. I am approaching being over-full, but I cannot resist and do my best to consume the treat. Gavin eats only a couple of bites, watching me with a satisfied eye.

When I push the plate away with one morsel remaining and suppress a groan, he gathers the dishes and pushes the cart out the door for housekeeping to collect, then pulls me into the bedroom. He turns on the shower, saying, “Brush your teeth and wash up. I’ll be waiting.”

One fast shower later, I rush into the bedroom to find him in bed, his gorgeous chest peeking above the fluffy white comforter. He raises it invitingly, and I waste no time, almost flinging myself into the bed next to him. He chuckles and wraps his arms around me, pulling me in tight against him, my leg between his. Then he reaches up to turn off the bedside light. He’d already closed the light blocking curtains, and we are plunged into darkness. His scent surrounds me, his body warm and safe, and I can hear his heartbeat in my ear.

“Sleep, baby,” he croons, kissing the top of my head, his hand rubbing my back lightly. My stomach is full, my body is warm, and Gavin is here.

I sleep.

I vaguely hear a door open and the bed moves under me. No, not the bed. A chest. Gavin’s chest. My eyes pop open and I look up into his beautiful face. I’ve drooled on his chest again, but he doesn’t appear to care. The smile he is giving me is making my insides gooey.

“Morning, baby,” he rumbles, tilting my chin up with his meaty fingers to press a kiss to my mouth. My mouth tastes like boiled spinach, but he doesn’t care, pushing me back onto the bed to deepen the kiss.

My cock is rigid and I want to grind up, but my bladder is screaming for mercy.

“God,” I gasp. “Need you. Bad,” I pant. “Gotta pee, though.”

He actually giggles, pressing his forehead to mine. “Me, too. I didn’t want to wake you,” he admits as we both clamber up and stumble to the bathroom.

“Fuck,” I groan. “Too hard to pee.”

“Running laps, cleaning toilets, stinking socks, your father,” he deadpans, and I collapse with laughter against the sink. But I deflate enough to empty my bladder, then tumble back onto the mattress. I climb on top of him, feeling his big body under mine, our legs tangling, cock next to mine. I wiggle around him, just glorying in the feel of him on me.

“I have so many questions,” I say into his neck. “But, god, you feel good.”

He ruts up against me gently, like he can’t help himself, and I match him, my hips curling to run my cock alongside his.

He grunts, “Fuck,” then reaches a hand between us, holding our cocks together.

“Oh, holy fuck,” I gasp. His cock is so hot, the skin so soft, the shaft so damned hard and his fist… fuck, his hand is huge, wrapped around us, and I am fucking lost. Gone to sensation. My pre-cum is pouring out, no lube needed as I rut against him. He grinds down on me as my hands find his ass, his muscles rippling under my palms as he rocks against me. I strain against him, legs trembling, then again, my hips thrusting to meet his. Again and again and yet again, so good. Don’t think, just feel. The base of my cock starts to pulse. Ah, god. Yes. I strain into his fist, feeling my cock swell. Ah, fuck. Yeah. There it is.

He turns his face to mine, lips sucking mine in, and I throb into his fist, whimpering, my back arching as my cum spurts between us, my vision whiting out as pleasure consumes me. His cock grows bigger next to mine, and his cum joins mine as he yells, hot ropes between us. He shudders as his body locks up under me, and I just wrap tighter around him. Holding him to me, letting his body shudder under mine until he is spent.