23. Tanner
TANNER
“Can I get you another drink?” I ask from the kitchen as I stare into the fridge. It’s been a week since my talk with Otto about enjoying the ride, and despite seeing Deacon almost every day, I can’t seem to settle down tonight.
I’m jittery and I can’t figure out why.
“Sure, thanks,” Deacon says, his eyes trailing over me before he turns back toward the movie. That single look is full of appreciation and heat and… What the hell was I supposed to be doing?
Shaking my head, I pull the beers from the fridge and pop the top off both, my steps faltering as I take in his arm draped over the back of the couch, his forearm tanned and sexy as he relaxes in my home.
Oh.
Could it really be that simple?
I stare at the beers in my hand, my body humming and aching for the insanely good-looking man on my couch. The one who has been painfully understanding and respectful of my need to go slow.
Do I still want that?
The hardening of my cock in my jeans says we’ve waited long enough.
“If you’re feeling like you want to try something, there’s a good chance he’ll be down for it too.”
Blake’s words echo in my brain—like I need another man in my head—the blood in my veins pumping a little faster as I continue to stand there, rooted to the floor as I angst over what to do.
The sounds of gunfire and explosions from the movie echo throughout the open space, bringing me back to the present.
To the weight of the bottles in my hand.
The cold glass against my skin.
His rumble of laughter at whatever the characters just said.
Fuck it.
Forcing myself to move, I pad across the hardwood floor and set the bottles down on the coffee table, the glass rattling against the surface.
But I don’t look.
Pressing one knee into the cushion, I straddle Deacon’s lap, his thick thighs spread wide, forcing mine tight against his unless I want to pull a muscle.
And I don’t…but I also don’t want to think about that right now.
I just want to feel.
Grabbing the back of my shirt, I pull it over my head and drop it to the floor beside his feet before cupping his face and kissing him. He grunts, his hands moving all over my sides and down over my hips and around to grip my ass.
I moan into his mouth and he squeezes harder, grinding me against his erection that’s nestled between my legs.
“Deacon?”
“Yeah?” he manages as I nip along his jaw with my teeth, forcing his head back to give me better access.
“I need you to get us off. Together. I want… Dammit,” I grunt, working his shirt up enough to drag my hands over his stomach and up his chest. “I need to touch more of you.”
I manage, his body hard and muscular where mine is leaner and more defined. I don’t run as much as Cal does, but I still head out a few times a week and lift weights.
My routine is habit, but Deacon’s is the result of the physical labor his job requires every day.
Strength.
Endurance.
And God, I want to know what it’s like to have all of him focused on me.
“Give me your mouth,” he growls and I obey, letting him take control as he grinds me against his lap. He tastes like beer and mint and smells like wood and soap, and fuck, I just want to lick up the column of his throat, maybe sink my teeth into his shoulder.
The thought is startling and completely out of character, but maybe that’s the point— Deacon brings out another side of me and I like it.
I like this. It feel right.
“Please, I need you to touch me.” My hands fumble with my belt and it takes me two tries to pop the button on my jeans, my cock still straining against the denim.
“Take them off.” Deacon’s gaze rakes over me, lingering on the tent in my pants before moving up to my eyes.
Maneuvering off his lap, I watch as he sits up and grabs the back of his shirt, pulling it off before he drops it next to mine.
I’m captivated by the expanse of his chest and arms, his tanned skin and the smattering of hair.
I don’t think I’ve ever been so turned on in my life. “Now, Tanner.”
The command elicits a whole-body shiver as I push my jeans to the floor before stepping out of them and taking off my socks. Deacon’s head dips with approval before his fingers deftly undo his belt and jeans, lifting his hips to slide the fabric down his thighs.
His boxer briefs are a simple cotton but they’re molded to him, his cock barely contained as he grasps it and stares at me.
Holy shit.
“Get over here.”
I should probably put up more of a fight over his caveman-like statements, but I asked for this…asked him to push me when I’m too far in my head.
I asked him to take control.
Easing back over his lap, I groan, precum already soaking the fabric of my boxers even before his hand dips under the elastic band to cup my bare ass cheek.
“Too much?” Deacon murmurs when I suck in a breath, his palm rough against my skin as he massages and squeezes.
“No. It feels good. I’m just… I think I’m going to come in like two seconds,” I blurt out as I rock against him, nothing but a thin layer between us.
The rush of sensation is enough to make my lips part on a moan, the rightness of this moment settling over me like a sign that this is what I’ve been waiting for.
He chuckles softly, the vibration lighting me up everywhere we touch as he pulls himself from his boxers and strokes up and down his length. The sight of him has me nearly drooling, his cock long and hard and absolutely perfect.
Jesus.
I didn’t know it could be like this.
“Give me your mouth.”
I do as he says, crashing my lips over his with teeth nipping and tongues clashing.
It’s hot and messy and I feel my hips trying desperately to increase the friction because I need to get off.
Reaching between us, I pull my cock out and moan into the kiss, his fingers digging into my ass cheek before teasing closer to my crease.
Oh my God.
“Deacon.”
“What do you need, Sweetheart?”
I whimper, the endearment now making my heart soar, all doubt erased by the way he’s trying to consume me.
Own me.
Pleasure me.
“Make me come.”
His touch short-circuits my brain. His roughened palm sliding along my sensitive skin is enough to send me over the edge, but I hang on because I want to remember this moment.
This feeling.
I want to hold on to it forever.