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Book online «Mannies Incorporated by Michael, Sean (phonics books .TXT) 📗». Author Michael, Sean



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smelly markers."

"Smelly markers?" Drake made a face. "Smelly?"

"Uh-huh." Christian nodded, beaming. "Purple is grape. Red is cherry. Green is…uh…"

"Mint."

"Oh, thank God." Drake laughed. Fuck, the man was sexy.

"Uh-huh. Come on. Get your sisters."

"Eight-thirty," Drake reminded him as he got out the paper and markers.

"Eight-thirty." He looked at the clock. Only eleven hours to go.

***

This day was the longest day in the history of days. Drake didn't think it was ever going to be eight-thirty. Like never. Jenny hadn't wanted to sleep. Maggie had fallen and "bunked" her head. Christian wanted water. God.

He just wanted pizza and beer and dancing. Okay, that wasn't true. He wanted Slayde. He wanted that lean body against his, and that mouth. Fuck, that mouth, those kisses. His prick started to come to life and he had to think about dead bodies again.

"Uncle Slayde!" He heard footsteps, heard Slayde's voice. Someone was getting testy.

At this rate their pizza was not only going to arrive, but be cold before the kids were asleep. The doorbell rang and he paid for the pizza, took it to the kitchen. The weather was too hot to eat outside. Maybe they could wait and do the dancing in Slayde's room. It had a lock and he didn't want to be interrupted.

Slayde came down, hand rubbing the back of his neck. "Tell me that was pizza."

"Uh-huh. Pizza and beer." He nodded to the table. "It's too fucking hot to eat outside." He liked being able to swear when the kids weren't around.

"It's brutal out there."

"It is." He stood up, moving into Slayde's space, hands sliding around the man's waist. "So… the kids are asleep?"

"They're in bed, and I may beat them if they get up again."

He chuckled, leaning in for a kiss. He needed this a hell of a lot more than he needed pizza. Slayde pushed up and met his kiss, mouth hungry, needy. Groaning into Slayde's mouth, he tightened his hold on Slayde's waist. Fuck, the man felt amazing against him, unafraid and solid and needy. He tugged, pulling them together. He could feel Slayde's hardness against his own.

"You taste good." Slayde groaned, then that tongue started fucking his lips. He sucked on it, pulling hard.

This was good, this he understood. Slayde's cock rubbed against his thigh, the man hard as a rock.

"Want you." They could go up to Slayde's room, lock the door. Eat pizza later.

"You're not hungry?"

"Pizza's not going anywhere." Though they could bring it up with them. Eat in bed.

"Let's take it upstairs. We'll eat naked."

"Perv," Drake accused, even though he'd been thinking basically the same thing.

"Uh-huh." Slayde winked, the look wicked.

Drake chuckled and grabbed the pizza.

Slayde grabbed the beer. "Did you check the doors?"

"Baby, I'm a cop, of course I checked the doors."

"Right." He got a smile that was blisteringly hot.

He kissed Slayde again and it was awkward and one handed, halfway up the stairs and he didn't care; he needed that kiss like he needed another breath.

"Hungry. Don't wake them up. I need."

"Then shut up." He grabbed Slayde's free hand and dragged the man up the rest of the stairs and down the hall.

Thank God no one woke up, no one called out for one of them.

They got to Slayde's room and he closed the door, locked it, threw the pizza at the table piled with crap. Slayde launched himself at him, lips landing on his. Drake used the momentum to get them to the mattress and they went down together.

"Fuck, I've been wanting this all fucking day." Oh, listen to Mr. Perfect, cursing at him.

Grinning, he tore at Slayde's clothing, looking for skin. He knew some of the man's hot spots now, knew that he'd find blond curls over the long, needy cock. He got Slayde's T-shirt off, then the shorts down, pushing them with his feet as their mouths kept each other's tongues occupied. Slayde fed him this happy little noise that he was taking as praise.

He got a hold of Slayde's ass and rubbed the man against him, too fucking impatient to worry about his own clothes. Slayde was burning, swollen, cock leaving wet kisses against him. Groaning, he slid one hand around to wrap it around that sweet heat, holding Slayde's cock tight. Slayde humped up, driving into his hand.

"Sexy fucker." Drake wanted Slayde. Like all the time. It was like once he'd had a taste, he couldn't get enough.

Slayde grinned, then grabbed his shirt, tugged. "Skin."

"Uh-huh." He didn't let go of Slayde's prick, though.

"Your fingers… God, Drake. I'm going out of my mind."

Fuck, Slayde make him feel like a stud, that was for sure. He pressed the fingers of one hand into Slayde's ass, the fingers of his other hand slid over the hot, hard flesh, played it.

"Gonna make me shoot like a kid."

"Go for it, baby." He moved his hand faster, fingers tightening.

"Baby." Slayde arched, come pouring over his fingers.

He kept stroking, watching the shudders move through Slayde's body, over Slayde's face. Jesus, look at that. Drake's entire body went tight. He moaned hand still working, though he'd loosened his hold a little.

Slayde kept moving, restless motions becoming slower. With Slayde coming down, Drake's own need came rushing back at him, and he groaned.

"What can I give you?"

He said the first thing that popped in to his head. "Want your mouth."

Slayde gave him a naughty grin. "Hell, yes."

He undid his pants, fingers almost trembling with eagerness as he pulled his zipper down.

"You going to bring it up here? Take my mouth?"

Fuck. Really? Slayde would let him do that? "Fuck, yes."

"It'll be hot as hell." Slayde leaned back, stretched long on the bed.

"Yes." He couldn't make anything other than single syllables come out and pushed his pants down, off, and started climbing up the bed. God, was this real? Was this happening?

Moaning, he climbed Slayde's body, feeling the warm skin against his balls, his ass, his inner thighs. Slayde's hands wrapped around his hips, encouraging him to move up. He watched as his knees pushed into Slayde's pits, his prick

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