Chapter 15 #3
Trevor actually considered this. The thought behind this date night was nice. He liked that part of it—Lane planning and executing the plan. But the actual plan? It kind of sucked. Wasn’t something either of them would ever like.
They didn’t even drink wine, even though the sommelier had been right and Trevor didn’t hate this one. And the rest of the cocktail menu? Actually kind of terrifying.
“Well, maybe not exactly that list instead of this? But not this, man, it’s not us.” Trevor winced, wondering if he should have softened the blow a little, but then, Lane had asked and he’d also looked basically freaked at all the forced romantic atmosphere.
“What you want is to go out with me, but like something we’d like,” Lane said, looking hesitant.
“Yeah, sure. It was nice you planned something. I like looking at you in those tight pants and even tighter shirt,” Trevor said, “but yeah, next time? Let’s do something else.”
Lane nodded. “Okay. I can do that.” He paused, making a bit of a face. Trevor wanted to reach over and smooth out the frown between his eyebrows. “I’ve never done this before.”
I’ve never wanted to do this before, was what Trevor heard, and that was more than enough to compensate for the kind of dud of a date.
“You’re going to be good at it,” Trevor said, as encouragingly as he could. Under the table, he nudged Lane’s foot with his own.
“Not so far.”
“Me either,” Trevor admitted. He shot his boyfriend a hot look. “But I do bet you’re going to be fucking fantastic at what we do after.”
Lane digested this for a second, his gaze going molten hot, making Trevor’s heart rate accelerate. “Drink your wine,” he said gruffly. “Enjoy the view.”
“What if I know I’m going to enjoy the view later more?”
Lane chuckled. “Drink your wine, then.”
Trevor did, and he did enjoy it. And he enjoyed the company, of course. Even enjoyed the snooty waiter, and the way the guy three tables over was so nervous when it was his turn to pull a box out of his pocket that he straight-up dropped the ring and sent it spinning around on the floor.
But he wasn’t wrong and what he enjoyed most of all was an hour later, spread out on the bed, naked body against the sheets, Lane hovering behind him.
“Think you were right,” Lane said, ducking his head low, voice a rough whisper as his lips slid down Trevor’s spine, making him shiver. “Best view is right here, baby.”
It was impossible not to beg for it. Beg for more.
“Please.” Trevor could hear his voice wavering, almost swallowed up by the pillow he was whining into, but it must have been just loud enough for Lane to hear, because he did give him more.
Fingers cupping the curve of his ass, sliding right where he needed them, and shockingly, too, the gentle but insistent rasp of Lane’s tongue.
Everything else they’d done so far had been mind-blowingly good, but this was on a level all its own, Trevor clutching the pillow as Lane took him apart, one finger and one lick at a time.
By the time he’d finished drawing it out, Trevor was pretty sure he was crying a little about it, but then Lane apparently took pity on him, and pulled him right back, grip tight around his hips, grinding him down onto his cock.
“Shit,” Lane murmured, “you feel fucking amazing.”
Trevor hiccupped out a sound that might’ve been a laugh.
He’d been hearing for so long that sex was unbelievable and that you could get addicted to it, but he’d never understood that.
Never could even comprehend how that could happen.
But this feeling right here—Lane all around him and Lane inside him so deep he wasn’t sure they weren’t permanently intertwined—that was addicting. All-consuming, even.
Trevor wasn’t sure he’d ever get enough.
One of Lane’s hands slipped down his abs to his hard, leaking, painfully ignored cock, and gave it a stroke as he ground in even deeper, even harder.
Then Lane leaned in, caging him in more fully, and God, that was it. Trevor was gone, shuddering through his orgasm, wondering how he could have stumbled onto something this fucking perfect.
Lane’s teeth bit into his shoulder as he groaned, and a moment later, they collapsed together into the mattress.
“Wow,” Trevor said, still dazed. “I didn’t think—didn’t know—”
“Now you do,” Lane said, sounding smug. Something Trevor couldn’t even blame him for. Not when the sex was this damn good.
Trevor reached up, touching the place Lane had bitten him, and it was shockingly hot that he could still feel the imprint of Lane’s teeth in his skin.
“Sorry,” Lane mumbled into his shoulder, just below it. He reached up and kissed the place, like he could wipe it away but Trevor didn’t want that. Not at all.
“I liked it,” he admitted, turning so he could look right at Lane when he said it. So Lane could see how he wasn’t lying.
“Just . . . didn’t even mean to, just . . . I don’t know . . . felt better than rattling off some nonsense,” Lane said, flushing a little.
Trevor had thought he’d made it very clear how much he enjoyed Lane’s brand of “nonsense.”
“Don’t hold it in next time,” Trevor said, tipping his head down so he could brush a kiss over Lane’s mouth.
“Okay,” Lane said.