Brantley’s other hand was on him then, sliding around his waist, his palm flattening on Reese’s stomach. He looked down, watching the move, noticing the veins in Brantley’s thickly muscled arm. The sight of it was much like the kisses they’d shared. It threw him off-balance for a moment, had his breath hitching.
“We need to talk,” Brantley said softly, his voice a soft growl in Reese’s ear.
“I agree.”
But Brantley didn’t launch into a conversation. No, the arm banded around him pulled him back until Brantley’s chest was pressed against his back, one arm around his middle, the other hand curling around his throat, tilting his head back.
The move was erotic and sensual, a control thing that he’d come to expect from Brantley. The man had him right where he wanted him. Warm breaths fanned his neck and it was all Reese could do to remain standing. There was something shockingly salacious about this moment, the way Brantley had taken control, holding him firmly but not forcefully.
“I’ve decided I won’t be your guinea pig,” Brantley whispered, his words vibrating against Reese’s neck.
Reese covered Brantley’s arm with his, firmly gripping the thick forearm, ensuring they would not be separated.
“Not expectin’ you to be,” he admitted. “But I can’t make any promises, Brantley.”
“Not askin’ for any.”
The hand on his throat tightened, tilting his head back another inch. Reese sucked in a shocked breath when Brantley nipped his jaw.
“Close your eyes,” Brantley instructed.
Without hesitation, Reese closed his eyes, allowed the hard body behind him to hold him up. Not exactly the conversation he’d been expecting…
Warm, smooth lips trailed down his neck, pausing where his neck met his shoulder. Then Brantley’s hand fell from his throat, sliding to his hip. The other slipped out from beneath Reese’s arm, so he allowed his own to drop to his side.
“What are you feelin’ right now?” Brantley asked.
“Tension,” he said because it was the truth. His entire body, from the roots of his hair to the tips of his toes, was coiled tightly.
That only intensified when Brantley’s hands slid beneath his T-shirt, his splayed fingers gliding over his stomach up to his chest. Although the idea of pulling away, telling Brantley to stop vaguely crossed his mind, words were absent. He was a hot ball of sensation, every inch of him aware of the man standing at his back.
“Do you like my hands on you?”
Reese figured there was no reason to lie. “Yes.”
Those hands took a detour, gliding back down until the tips of Brantley’s fingers were dipping into the waistband of Reese’s jeans.
Christ Almighty.
Reese’s lungs worked overtime, his heart hammering in his chest.
“And now?”
“Yes.” He wanted to urge Brantley not to stop, but he couldn’t bring the words to his lips. While he enjoyed the fuck out of this, there was hesitation lingering. He doubted it would last long, but for now, it was still there, still making him question what he wanted.
Brantley’s lips pressed to the back of Reese’s neck and he leaned his head down, giving him better access. He moaned as Brantley teased his skin with his tongue, but when Brantley’s mouth suctioned to his neck, Reese wondered briefly if he could come from that sensation alone.
“And my mouth? Do you like my mouth on you, Reese?”
“Fuck yes,” he hissed, praying like hell Brantley wouldn’t stop.
If he did … well, if the man opted to leave him hanging right now, Reese knew he wouldn’t be responsible for his own actions.
Chapter Fourteen
Brantley hadn’t intended for this, but when he’d stepped out of the bathroom to find Reese standing before him, it was the first and only thing he’d thought about doing.
Now that his hands were on Reese, he didn’t want to let go.
No, he wasn’t trying to seduce the guy. Not to the degree they would end up naked, anyway. But he was trying to prove a point, and from where he stood, it was working.
“If it feels good, why does it matter if I’m a man?” he asked, licking his way up to Reese’s ear before nipping the lobe gently.
“It doesn’t.”
“No?”
Reese grunted when Brantley flicked his fingernail over one nipple, then the other.
“Earlier you said you didn’t want people to get the wrong impression.”
“Correct.”
“Meaning you don’t want people to think you’re gay if you decide you’re not.”
Another grunt followed, along with a hiss when Brantley tweaked Reese’s nipple.
“I want to know what you want from me, Reese.”
“Ever occur to you that I don’t know?”
He had expected Reese to say that. Even suspected Reese believed it was true.
“You’re on the fence,” he contemplated. “You’re teetering on the edge and you don’t know if you should simply fall or jump.” Brantley kissed his neck, inhaling that spicy scent he’d come to crave in such a short time. “I want you to jump, Reese.”
“Why?”
“Because jumping’s a choice.”
“And falling’s not?” Reese countered.
