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“Jesus.” Cole closed his grip around Ford’s cock, and his thumb slid through the wetness gathered at the head. His eyes followed the movement before lifting to Ford’s face. “Were you lying here like this the whole drive?”
“Maybe.”
“Naked under the blankets, waiting for me to walk in?”
Ford’s cock jerked in his hand. Cole dragged his thumb over the head again, deliberately provoking the same response.
“Asshole,” Cole said, but the word came out rough with want.
“You’re the one who left me waiting.”
Cole stroked him from root to tip, twisting his wrist on the way up. Ford’s hips lifted after the pressure before he could stop them.
“Did you touch yourself?” Cole asked.
“No.”
“Why not?”
Ford looked him in the eye. “Was saving that for you.”
Cole’s breath caught. He tightened his grip and stroked Ford again, slower this time, watching his face while his thumb worked over the slit. Heat climbed Ford’s spine. His thighs opened farther around Cole’s knee, asking for more without giving Cole the satisfaction of hearing him beg.
Then Cole stopped.
Ford opened his eyes. “Don’t you dare.”
“I drove three hours thinking about getting home to you.” Cole shoved the blankets to the foot of the bed, baring Ford completely. His gaze moved down Ford’s body and stayed between his legs. “Thought about spreading you open. Thought about how you’d sound when I finally got my cock inside you again.”
Ford’s entire body tightened around the promise. “Then stop talking about it and get your clothes off.”
Cole bent until his mouth brushed Ford’s ear. “You want me that bad?”
“I laid here naked waiting for you. What do you think?”
“I think I want to hear you say it.”
Ford grabbed the open edges of Cole’s shirt and pulled him down. “I want you naked. I want your cock in me. And if you keep making me wait, I’m tearing this shirt off you myself.”
Cole’s mouth pulled to one side, but his pupils had gone wide. “Bossy.”
Ford reached for the buttons of Cole’s shirt. He missed the first one when Cole bent to bite the place where Ford’s neck met his shoulder. The second came free. Ford gave up on the rest and shoved both hands beneath the fabric, finding cold skin and hard muscle.
Cole felt leaner beneath Ford’s palms, the lines at his waist sharper than Ford remembered. But his shoulders seemed broader too, the muscles across his back harder when Ford dragged his nails over them. The trip hadn’t been long enough to change him that much, but Ford still wondered what the faster practices had done—or whether wanting Cole this badly had changed the way Ford saw every inch of him.
Ford pushed the shirt over his shoulders and ran his palms down Cole’s bare chest. “Did Chicago send back more of you than I gave them?”
Cole sat back and stripped his shirt off. “You planning to inspect all of me?”
“Thoroughly.”
Cole caught Ford’s wrists and pressed them into the mattress beside his head. The humor left his eyes. “I’m home now.”
Ford’s next breath stopped in his chest. He’d heard Cole say he missed him. He’d watched Cole play in Chicago and told himself pride was enough to fill the space he’d left behind. It hadn’t been. Not even close.
Ford pulled one wrist free, caught Cole behind the neck, and held him there until their foreheads touched. “Yeah,” he said, his voice rougher than he wanted Cole to hear. “You are.”
Cole kissed him again. Slower this time, but no less hungry. Ford opened under him and let Cole take what he’d come home for. When Cole finally released his wrists, Ford worked at Cole’s buckle until Cole shifted enough to let him get the belt loose.
