Mannies Incorporated by Michael, Sean (phonics books .TXT) 📗

Was Slayde not on board?

"You want me." He could feel the evidence of that.

"God, yes."

"Then what's the problem?"

"No problem. No problem at all."

"Good." He grabbed Slayde by the back of his head and brought the man in for another kiss.

Slayde moaned and moved closer, beginning to rock and ride against him. Oh, fuck, that felt good. Heat and hardness against heat and hardness. Slayde started offering him those drugging kisses again. He ran his hands up under Slayde's T-shirt, fingers sliding on the man's spine.

"Come to bed with me?" Slayde asked.

Yeah, bed would probably be less likely to be interrupted by kids. He nodded.

"Okay." Slayde stood up, grabbed the food and put it in the kitchen, locked the doors.

Jesus Christ. They were doing this. On purpose and without being desperate and drunk.

"You okay?" Slayde met his eyes at the bottom of the stairs.

Drake nodded and his voice was gruff when he answered. "Let's do this."

Slayde's hand slid down his arm, his fingers were squeezed.

"My bed's bigger," he pointed out.

"That's Mindy's bed. I can't do that, Drake."

"You better not have a twin."

Slayde's head tilted. "What?"

"Your bed? If we're going to do this there, it had better not be on a twin bed. Because then we might as well go back to the couch."

"Oh." Slayde looked at him, then chuckled. "I thought you were asking if I had a brother, which I don't. I have sisters."

"I'm not interested in your sisters."

"Good. They're both married with babies."

"Good for them." He grabbed Slayde's hand and all but dragged him up the stairs.

Slayde had a queen-sized bed, the man's bedroom lush and crazy with colors and fabrics and… Christ, the man was a queen. Drake looked around, kind of stunned.

"You okay?"

He shook himself. "Yeah. I am.'

"You sure? You looked a little freaked. I mean, I know it's a wild mess, but I don't have much room and this is all my stuff."

He tugged Slayde in, focusing on how good it felt to kiss the man. That was so much better than thinking. If he could touch, rub against this fine, solid body, the rest would work itself out, right? Right.

His hands wrapped around Slayde's ass as he plundered that amazing mouth. Slayde moved like there was music playing, like they were dancing. It was the sexiest thing he'd ever felt.

He worked them slowly toward the bed, most of his focus on the rub of their bodies, on the taste of Slayde on his tongue. He'd never luxuriated in another man, never spent time exploring, kissing, tasting. He could get used to this. Which was maybe a bad idea.

Thinking too much, though, that was the worst idea, so he tried not to, let himself tug at Slayde's T-shirt and focus on the feeling of that warm, bare skin under his fingers. Slayde was smooth, just the barest line of gold hair on the flat belly. He smoothed his fingers across the fine muscles, then scraped lightly with his fingernails, not even enough to leave a mark, just enough to feel.

He received a soft, husky laugh for his troubles. He grinned. Fuck, there'd never been laughter before.

His leg hit the mattress and he thought that was a good thing, maybe a needy thing. He let himself fall toward it, holding on to Slayde and bringing the man with him. They bounced and Slayde straddled him as they landed, their bodies meeting hard.

They'd been going so slow and easy, he hadn't realized how hard he was, how badly he needed. Not until just now and he humped up against Slayde's body, a moan dragging out of him.

"I want to suck you." The words were almost enough to make him cream his jeans.

"Fuck, yes." No fucking way he was turning down making that particular little jack-off fantasy come true.

Slayde scooted down, and they got Drake's jeans opened, his cock popping out.

"Fuck." He seemed stuck on that one word, but he really didn't have any others as he watched intently.

"Man, you are hung." Slayde leaned down, cheek sliding on his prick.

He didn't know which pleased him most -- the compliment or the touch. Oh, who was he fooling? Nobody'd ever taken their time; Slayde's touches were fucking magical. Drake moaned, hips shifting restlessly.

"I won't leave you hanging." Slayde kissed his balls, licked the base of his cock.

He nodded. "I know." He did. Slayde had made him feel so damn good the night they'd danced.

Slayde settled against his legs, then his cock was eased back, those lips wrapping around the tip. A low, needy moan tore out of him. Shit, when was the last time anyone had sucked him? And this wasn't some bathroom quickie. Fuck. He was going to explode.

Long fingers wrapped around his balls, tugging gently, easing him back from the edge before the suction started. He took a long breath, and then another, his hands opening and closing on the covers. Slayde took him in, tongue sliding on the shaft, then backed off, working the tip. He felt that, all through him.

He made his right hand move, finding Slayde's head, his fingers sliding over it. When Slayde hummed for him, he felt it through his entire body. He patted Slayde's head again, trying really hard not to grab on to Slayde's scalp and hold him in place. Then Slayde's head started bobbing, moving up and down, lips tight around the shaft of his cock.

"Oh, my God." His eyes closed tight and it took everything he had not to slam up into Slayde's mouth. Hot, tight, slick. He was in fucking heaven.

It took forever. There wasn't a hint of rushing. It was like Slayde was adoring his cock, moaning and taking it. Soft swear words came out of him, one after the other, interspersed with moans.

It was the best fucking blow job he'd had in his life. Ever.

Each motion down, Slayde took a little more of him, swallowed around him a little harder. A keening noise came out of him, his balls drawing up against his