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mischievous and sheepish at the same time. He was devastating.
    “I’m sorry I dragged us out here for nothing,” he sighed, his head tipped back as he breathed me in. “God, you smell good.”
    “Oh yeah,” I rumbled. I touched his face, loving the feel of his skin under mine, the wicked gleam in his eyes, the sly curl of his beautiful lips.  
    “Let’s go get a hotel room for an hour.”
    “That’s classy,” I teased, bending to kiss him because I couldn’t help it.
    He tasted like the spearmint lip balm he always used and the hot chocolate he’d had at the restaurant, and the flavors together when I sampled them made me a little crazy.
    His moan was deep and sexy. His lips parted and his tongue darted out to meet and claim mine. I grabbed him and turned, pulled him into a dark alley between buildings, and shoved him up against a wall, pinning him there. Normally my control wrapped around me, made me the cool guy, the rational guy, the guy who never gave himself over to impetuous action. But I had no buffer where Joe was concerned; he alone could pull down all my walls.
    “Oh,” he moaned, his breath catching, stuttering, before his hands fisted in my sweater and held on.
    He just fit me like no one ever had. My mouth on his, my thigh nestled against his groin, one hand buried in the thick, wavy auburn hair, the other kneading his ass as he pressed forward—all of it a dance we had perfected years ago. He always wanted to be closer. I couldn’t wait to have him there; being entwined was always best.
    The first kiss quickly became the second and the third with nothing but a panting breath to mark one from the next. His submissive whimper, so sweet, so heartfelt, infused with wanton need, made my balls ache. Every time, all the time, my lust for the man was like brushfire, consuming me, leveling me.
    He started to rub his bulging erection into my thigh, the contact making him shudder, and I was helpless to stop him, wanting instead to make him come apart faster.
    My fingers worked his belt loose, undid buttons, slid his zipper open just enough to get a hand down the back of his dress pants, slide over elastic and underneath. I had wet them, shoved them inside with our dueling tongues to make sure they were coated with saliva before I began my campaign.
    I lifted his hard, leaking cock from his briefs and gripped tight as I pressed slippery fingers slowly inside him from the back.
    “Marcus!” He gasped my name, whispering it fiercely as I stroked him and curved my fingers forward, pushing deeper, looking for the spot that would make him howl.
    “You’re so hot, so beautiful. Show me baby. Come for me. Come in my hand.”
    His breathing changed to panting, and when my fingers pegged his gland, my name came out as a cry.
    “I have you. You’re safe in my arms, Joey. You know you’re safe.”
    “Yes.” His eyes fluttered with the sensations rolling through him.
    He rocked forward, pushing in and out of my grip, the friction, the pressure too exquisite a temptation. His hands were like claws on my sweater as he held on. His head tipped back, his eyes closed tight and mouth open. The orgasm built until I bent and kissed him, taking the roar into my mouth as his body went rigid with his release. He came hard, spurting into my fist, semen oozing through my fingers as he shuddered in my arms.
    The man trusted me implicitly, and that was all over his face. He knew wherever we were, no one else could see, because he knew that I wouldn’t share the sight of him. I would not allow anyone else to ever see my love’s surrender.
    I watched him finish, buck forward into my hand, press back on my long fingers, and the ache that had welled up inside me blossomed and became hunger.
    “Don’t you want me?” he asked, his breath stilted.
    “Always.”
    “Then?”
    “I can wait,” I breathed.
    “I could have too.”
    “But I had to put my hands on you,” I growled, leaning forward and kissing down the length