Crash Pad by Whitley Gray Read Free Book Online Page A

off. Buttery skin, nipples the color of coffee with cream in a field of sparse blond hair. Smiling, he dipped his head to the small nubs, licking them to hard peaks until Jamie thrashed and pressed his hips to Remy’s.
    They ground against each other, cocks poking at clothing in search of relief. Remy slid a hand to the small of Jamie’s back and dived beneath the waistband of his shorts and briefs to squeeze his ass. Months had passed since Remy had caressed another man, and for a moment he savored the texture of bare skin over hard muscle, sweet and round.
    A firm grip closed on Remy’s dick through his underwear and he gasped. Oh, God . They were really doing this. With both hands, he unbuttoned Jamie’s shorts and lowered the zipper, taking it slow in case Jamie wanted to call a halt to the proceedings.
    Breathless, Jamie leaned in for a kiss. “Don’t stop. Please.”
    Nothing in Jamie’s expression said stop. In fact, the heavy-lidded gaze read, Touch me . Taking that as a sign, Remy reached inside Jamie’s briefs. A hot cock sprang forward into Remy’s hand, tip wet with excitement. Fuck, no stopping now . He worked Jamie’s clothing out of the way and gave the hot flesh a few leisurely strokes. Jamie whimpered and rocked against him. Jamie shoved Remy’s boxers down; long fingers wrapped around his shaft and gently squeezed him. Jamie’s hand moved in an easy glide, perfect pressure, a bit of a twist beneath the head. The other hand cradled Remy’s nuts.
    Fuck, yeah . Remy murmured, “Just like that, yeah.”
    Remy wrapped his hand around Jamie’s dick and pumped. There was nothing like it, the feel of a man’s hand moving on Remy while he administered the same slippery slides. The give and take, of knowing another had him by the balls in the very best way.
    Jamie thrust into the grip, finding the rhythm, setting the pace. His lips fastened on Remy’s, warm tongue exploring as they worked each other. Chest to chest, skin feverish, hearts pounding, hips pumping. Incredible.
    Jamie moaned.
    “Good?” Remy nipped at Jamie’s ear.
    “So good.” Jamie tilted his head to the side. “More.”
    Smiling, Remy adjusted his hold and pumped faster. Jamie kissed him; his hands moved to Remy’s biceps and slid to his waist. Remy encircled their cocks, jerking them together. It was almost too much, right at the edge between pleasure and pain.
    Jamie’s thrusts became frantic, and he tore his mouth away, panting.
    “Oh, God…going to—”
    A second later, Jamie threw his head back with a cry. Hot pulses of semen shot over Remy’s hand and on his chest.
    Jamie at rest was beautiful. Jamie in the throes of orgasm was otherworldly. For a moment, Remy lost the rhythm and tightened his grasp. A couple more pumps and the electric heat of release raced through him, and he buried a yell against Jamie’s neck.
    As the stickiness cooled between them, Jamie trembled and nuzzled Remy’s shoulder. Remy sat up, grabbed the towel off the footboard and wiped them clean before hauling Jamie into his arms. Stroking the knobs of Jamie’s spine, Remy luxuriated in the heat of his skin as he learned the contours of his back. Jamie sighed, and Remy settled Jamie against him for a nap.
    * * * *
    “More pasta?” Remy asked.
    Jamie stared across the table and shook his head. What could he say after letting his host treat him to a long-overdue orgasm? Please pass the spaghetti?
    The explosive release brought about by Remy’s gentle hand had been stellar. After their brief nap, Remy had helped him to the bathroom, started the shower running, and left, mumbling something about fixing dinner. Alone under the stark lights Jamie’s afterglow had given way to uncertainty. Had he talked Remy into it? Remy had seemed more concerned about Jamie wanting to proceed—and he had. In the moment, Jamie had craved it, hadn’t cared about the consequences.
    But now…Jamie felt a little slutty and a lot embarrassed.
    God, Remy looked sad.