He found himself following the man down the hallway, through the darkened bedroom with the bed they’d put to good use last night, into the bathroom. He was aware of the shower being turned on, Brantley discarding his own shorts, disappearing into the glass enclosure. Reese stared at the open door, beyond to the man whose golden skin was being sluiced by water.
His cock enjoyed the sight immensely, and then Reese was ditching his own shorts, padding across the tiled floor, joining Brantley.
“Slow, Reese,” Brantley whispered, his wet hands finding Reese’s face, cupping it gently as their eyes met. “I’m not pushin’ you.”
No, he wasn’t.
Reese leaned in, taking Brantley’s mouth with his own, shoving away everything that plagued his mind, letting the sensations take over. As his hands raked over smooth, warm skin, he sank into the kiss, gave it the attention it deserved.
He was aware of how hard he was, not only his cock but every fiber of his being. He’d never felt this kind of attraction, this level of desire for anyone. It was as though he’d been waiting for Brantley to come into his life, to awaken him.
His back met the wall and then Brantley was crushed up against him, his hand sliding around Reese’s neck, squeezing gently, holding him there as though it was the only thing that mattered. And right then, it was. For Reese, anyway.
A soft grunt escaped him when Brantley’s fist curled around his cock, stroking, teasing. Reese’s mouth broke from Brantley’s, his head falling back as pleasure consumed him.
“You like that?” Brantley whispered. “You like me touching you?”
“God, yes.”
Another grunt followed by a groan when he felt the smooth flesh of Brantley’s cock pressing against his own. Then Brantley was stroking them together, both hands working them as one.
Reese couldn’t deny himself the pleasure of watching, so he looked down between their bodies. The eroticism of the act had his breaths coming faster, his heartbeat speeding up. Brantley’s groans intensified the moment, and Reese realized how fucking hot it was to hear those deep growls of pleasure.
“Come for me, Reese,” Brantley crooned. “Let go.”
The hands gripped him more firmly and Reese’s legs weakened, the wall at his back the only thing keeping him upright as the tingling at the base of his spine ignited into an electric storm that blasted through him. He did as Brantley requested, letting go, a dark, rumbling growl announcing his orgasm.
An aftershock came on its heels when Brantley tilted his head back and came.
Chapter Twenty
On Sunday, Brantley spent the morning at the gun range, given access to the underground range because Roger had remembered him coming in with Reese. He’d considered telling Reese of his plans but decided against it, figuring the guy needed some time alone with his thoughts. Since they’d spent the majority of the past few days together, Brantley figured it was the least he could do.
Not that he intended to give Reese too much alone time. He knew from experience being alone for long periods wasn’t good for his mental health. He got the feeling he and Reese had that in common, which was why he ended up driving by Reese’s apartment on his way to Curtis and Lorrie’s for Sunday dinner. The invite had come via Travis and he hadn’t been able to say no. He’d actually been relieved because checking up on Kate had been on his to-do list, but he hadn’t wanted to bother the reunited family at home.
Brantley rapped his knuckles on Reese’s door, waited for the man to answer. Like last time, the door across the way opened and a man stuck his head out, his curious gaze swinging along the corridor before he slipped back inside. Brantley wondered if all neighbors in apartment buildings were that nosy or if Reese had simply gotten lucky.
The door swung open, Reese’s frowning face greeting him. “Hey. I didn’t… I hadn’t heard from you.”
Brantley was tempted to lean in for a kiss but could sense the hesitation in Reese, so instead, he simply smiled before shouldering his way inside. “You know the phone works both ways, right?”
The door closed behind him, darkening the space significantly. He noticed there was a pillow and blanket on the couch, as though Reese had been camped out there for the day.
“What’s up?”
“We’re goin’ to dinner,” he told the man, not leaving it open for discussion.
Of course, Reese hadn’t heard it that way, his immediate response a rebuttal.
“Get dressed,” Brantley demanded, ignoring the protest. “Curtis and Lorrie are expectin’ us.”
Reese stared back at him, but some of the argument drained out, visible by the way his shoulders relaxed.
“Six o’clock on the dot,” he reminded Reese. “If we’re late, I’m sure there’ll be hell to pay.”
“Brantley…”
“Travis invited us,” he tossed in, planting his hands on his hips and staring at the handsome man. “Just get dressed.”
