Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
JENSEN
The room I booked is on the nicer end of a standard hotel room.
It has floorboards and a cement ceiling, gray walls, two yellow armchairs by the window, and the king-sized bed dominating the space.
I toss my bag with some changes of clothes and the things we’ll need for tonight on the ottoman at the foot of the bed and turn to Barrett.
All six feet of his wiry build, damp shirt clinging to him deliciously, usually neat hair wet and messy, and eyes bright with arousal.
He’s fucking stunning.
I quirk my finger at him, and he steps closer.
Even from here, I can smell the delicious scent of fresh sweat, and I want to bury my face in his neck and let it consume me.
Barrett turns me on more than I can begin to describe, and I’m stuck in the indecision of wanting to push him down and fuck him or give myself time to enjoy this.
His lips quirk. “We have all night.”
How the fuck did he read my mind like that?
“You’re looking at me like you want to eat me alive. Not going to lie, it’s a real ego stroke.”
“You’re so fucking sexy, Barrett.” I reach out, hand closing over the bottom of his shirt that I use to tug him closer. “Take this off. I want to look at you.”
He immediately pulls it over his head, revealing miles and miles of skin.
My breathing deepens as I drink him in, knowing that I should probably be doing more than looking, but I can’t bring myself to make a move.
Not when the mere sight of him has everything in my body feeling liquid, like tidal waves crashing under the surface of my skin and trying to drag me under.
With a scorching gaze, he turns his back on me and heads toward the bathroom.
My feet stay planted. Even as he undoes his shorts.
Even as he pushes them over that ass that’s been taunting me.
Even as he reaches the door and looks back at me over his shoulder, lights from outside the window staining his silhouette purple and blue.
“You coming?”
He disappears inside, and finally, I can move. I flick the lower bathroom lights on, giving the room a dim glow, and move closer to where Barrett’s stepped into the shower. He turns it on, gives it a second to heat up, and then steps under the spray.
I’m glued to every movement, teased by the valleys of water flowing over him, and when he reaches down and strokes his cock, I swear to fuck my mouth waters.
I shake out of the daze I’ve fallen into because standing here and staring isn’t going to get us anywhere. Grateful that I never put my shirt back on, I strip out of my shorts and underwear and give my balls a tug.
“You gonna come get me ready?” he asks.
“Fuck yes.”
“With your mouth?”
My dick throbs, and I follow him into the shower stall and back him up against the wall. Water flows over us as my mouth finds his, and I cradle his face in my hands as I take the kiss as deep as it can go. His coarse stubble under my palms makes me smile.
Shit. I still can’t believe we’re doing this. Fooling around. Like we should have been in college.
But I have to admit that nothing we’re doing feels like sex did in college.
That none of it feels foolish or ridiculous or like something I should regret.
My head keeps trying to tell me to freak out, to acknowledge that Barrett is supposed to be my best friend and nothing more, but there isn’t a single part of me that believes it.
Not when just kissing him feels like a force beyond either of our control.
I groan into his mouth, hands slipping to circle his throat, thumbs tilting his face back for deeper access. Water is running into my eyes, but I don’t fucking care. Stepping back means releasing him, and I think I’ll die if my skin stops touching his.
Barrett blindly fumbles for the bodywash, and my shoulders twitch as he squeezes some out onto them.
He cleans me with deep, smooth strokes, massaging more than washing, but when I try to copy him, I’m not that patient.
I squeeze his pecs, his sides, his ass, all the while keeping my mouth fused with his.
Every part of him that fills my hands shoots a spike of lust straight to my cock. I can’t take it anymore.
Wrenching my mouth from his, I spin him face-first into the wall, tilt the shower away from us, then drop to my knees.
His ass is face-height, full and round, and I finally give in to my urge to bite it. My teeth sink into his firm glutes, and arousal floods through me.
Barrett cuts off a groan. “Fuck, Hawke.”
I drag my tongue over the bite mark. I haven’t broken skin, but it’s a deep red, and I almost hope it bruises. My heart flutters with the thought of giving him more. With covering my best friend in my marks, a clear sign to everyone else that he’s mine.
“Give me your tongue,” he rasps.
I never could have imagined we’d end up here one day.
I spread his cheeks, saliva flooding my mouth at the sight of his tight hole, and then I give in to what we both want.
I cover his skin in kisses, lick hard stripes over his entrance, and tease the skin until his legs shift wider and he bends at the waist.
“More.”
I grin against his skin. “I thought I was supposed to be the bossy one.”
“You are.” His face tilts toward the ceiling, the arch in his back the type of thing people write songs about. “I’m just desperate for you.”
I chuckle and lean forward, tongue teasing his rim until it slips inside.
Barrett sighs, relaxing around me, and it doesn’t take long before it’s easy to fuck my tongue in and out.
I massage his cheeks while I eat him out, loving the way he’s pushing back and wanting more.
Making the person I’m with feel good has always been a focus of mine, and it’s increased by a thousand, knowing that person is Barrett.
It’s not only that I want to turn him on; I want to make him happy. Relaxed. To come his fucking brains out until his muscles are sap and the tension leaves his body.
I want to make him feel good. All the way through.
My tongue is replaced with my fingers, and he rides them until his hole is soft and stretched enough for more. Then I stand and tilt the water back over him, fingers still buried to the knuckles.
“How’s that?” I ask by his ear.
“So good.”
“I can’t get over how needy you are, Barrett.” I stroke in and out some more. “You ready for my cock?”
He lets out a disbelieving laugh. “I’ve been ready for your cock since the first time you mentioned fucking me.”
Me too. I slide my fingers back in deep, imagining that tight heat around my dick. I’m so ready for it, my teeth are clamped together as I rub my shaft against his side to take some of the ache away.
The shower flowing over us is making everything feel sharper. Making my skin come alive. If we don’t get out of this shower soon, I’m going to end up fucking him up against the wall.
Which will feel amazing, but the deep ache in my gut wants more than that. More than the fast, greedy orgasms we’ve given each other so far. I want to fuck Barrett so deeply he feels me for days.
My fingers slide free, and I dip my head to press a kiss to his shoulder. “Bed.”
He doesn’t answer, just shuts off the water, opens the door, and hands me a towel.
We dry off, and I watch his every movement, committing the flex of his strong arms to memory, the way his back dips and droplets bubble along his spine. The ample curve of his ass that meets thick thighs.
Barrett is everything.
He’s barely turned to face me when I stoop down and lift him off his feet. It feels like I’ve been hard for fucking hours, and my impatience is starting to win out. I need him under me. I need to be buried inside him.
He growls into my mouth as our lips connect, and the kiss takes my brain offline.
He’s a heavy, comforting weight, even as my arm muscles strain.
It’s a fair trade-off for his warm thighs strangling my hips, his fingers tugging at my hair, the dominating tongue, and the desperate way he’s trying to rock his cock against mine.
My knees hit the side of the bed, and I toss him onto it. The split second of our bodies parted is too much. Too soon. I need him here to know this is real.
I cover him with my body, torso to torso, thighs to thighs. We kiss for so long my jaw complains, but I keep going. Keep wanting and needing this connection that has us both breathless and hungry for more.
And the entire time we kiss, there’s this ache building. Starting in my chest, burning hotter by the second. The more I’m consumed by Barrett, the deeper it goes. Chest to limbs, like treacle seeping out to the most forgotten stretches of my body and reminding me that they’re there.
The ache makes me kiss him deeper, knowing it will never be deep enough.
It makes me rub my body against his, knowing it will never be close enough.
It makes my hands search and touch and indulge, knowing that I’ll never be able to find exactly what it is I’m after.
Tai Barrett is killing me.
And he’s not doing a fucking thing.