Chapter 90

Andy grunted at the emptiness and pawed through the bag, groping around for the little foil pack. “Ass,” he grumbled half-heartedly, “you know what I meant.” Nope, not that. Not that. That—what the hell was an actual ketchup pack doing in there? Ah-ha! He pulled out the condom, holding it between two fingers. “Want me to put it on you?”

Scooter leaned back until he was stretched flat on the bed and tucked his hands behind his neck. “Let you do all the work? Sounds good t’me, sweetheart,” Scooter murmured. In the other room, someone had terrible rhythm as the headboard knocked a few times against the wall, and then there was a god-awful sound of furniture being dragged a few inches

Andy almost dropped the condom, laughing. “Do they think we won’t hear that?” he squeaked hysterically. “Oh my God, we’re giving them so much shit tomorrow.” He managed to get the wrapper open without tearing the condom and smoothed it onto Scooter’s cock. He considered briefly rolling it down with his mouth, but this wasn’t one of the fun flavored ones; it had a nasty-tasting spermicide on it. So he settled for rolling it on slow and teasing, little half-strokes that had Scooter arching up into his hand.

“Andy,” Scooter said, voice harsh with wanting. He moved like he couldn’t possibly stay still, hands stroking up and down Andy’s thighs, teasing with the bite of his nails at Andy’s hips. One hand snaked behind Andy’s back, fingers wide and possessive against the small of Andy’s back. “God, let me…” He got one hand down between them, held the base of his dick for Andy, to line them up.

Andy wriggled into position, until the tip of Scooter’s cock caught on the edge of his hole, then pushed down, slow and easy. His eyes closed of their own volition, and he knew Scooter was watching him, and that was perfect. God, it was so good; he’d alwaysliked it like this, reveling in the ache and stretch, the desperate pounding of Scooter’s heart under his hand, both of them breathing harsh and needy.

He couldn’t help a moan as he was fully breached, the startled little spasm of his body when the pressure suddenly eased. “Oh, God, Scooter, you feel so good.” He leaned down and captured Scooter’s mouth in a kiss, hard and fast and deep. “You want me, baby?”

Scooter kissed, licking his way into Andy’s mouth, shivering under him. “Like nothin’ else,” Scooter swore. He thrust up, a groan of relief tearing out of his throat. Both hands on Andy’s hips, he rocked them together, sweet and slick and slow, endless jolts of pressure and pleasure.

“Oh, God, God, yes,” Andy hissed. He pushed himself upright, leaning back to savor every inch of Scooter’s cock pushing into him. He set his knees and rolled his body, luxuriating in the smooth drag, the bright shiver of sensation as he angled to stroke against his prostate, the quiet noises Scooter was making. “Love the way you make me feel.” Love you, he thought, but he kept that behind his teeth. Too soon, too raw. Scooter wouldn’t believe it. Certainly not in the middle of sex. But he did, God, so much.

A guttural sound came from Scooter’s chest. Clutching at Andy’s hips, he drove upward, pelvis working in short, quick motions. “So gorgeous, oh, God, Andy…” His voice broke, shattered. He pulled Andy down, burying himself in the hot clutch of Andy’s body. Scooter reached a new place, deeper than he had before, and it was sore, tender, but so good at the same time that Andy’s body squeezed, held it. With every helpless movement Andy made, Scooter kept moving with him, bringing Andy up to some impossible peak. Scooter got a hand on Andy’s cock, traced faint lines with his fingertips, teasing over the head and smearing precome around. Tormenting him with flirting strokes, while his body never relented in its deep, provocative grinding.

“Scooter,” he groaned. “Fuck, how do you do that? Do you even know how good—” It was a torment that Andy wanted never to end. He could barely think, barely breathe, and all he could do was keep rocking his body, rolling his hips, trying to pull Scooter even deeper into his body, trying to thrust into the curve of Scooter’s hand. “Oh, fuck, honey, tell me you’re close…”

“Not yet,” Scooter said, teasing. He made a show of licking Andy’s precome from his fingers, returning damp and slick to play with Andy’s dick. “Hold on, hold it…don’t give in. You can do it, you can take it.” Scooter hitched upward again, faster, long strokes until he was bouncing Andy on him. “Wait…” His voice betrayed him, harsh and needy, long gasping breaths between words, eyes intent on Andy’s face.