Ice Man by KyAnn Waters Read Free Book Online Page A

Yet.
    Crossing the room, he paused in front of Rowan. Rowan spread his thighs, wrapped his hands around the back of Brett’s legs and pulled him a step closer. He rested his forehead against Brett’s bare stomach and slowly drew his hands higher. Reaching around to the front, he finished unzipping his jeans and tugged the denim down. His cock sprang free, bobbing twice before flushing with blood, thickening and swelling another inch.
    Hot, silken breath caressed the moist tip. “I don’t want to argue with you.” Rowan’s eyes slid closed. “Especially with you.”
    Emotion churned in his gut. He didn’t want to read expectation into the words, didn’t want to attach feelings to the physical act. But when Rowan’s velvet tongue slipped from between his lips and laved his cock head, his intentions melted along with his resistance.
    He threaded his fingers through the cool, silken softness of Rowan’s hair. The gentle touch weaved a cocoon of intimacy around them. Rowan opened his mouth. Moist heat surrounded his cock. Opening wider, he took him deeper and sucked as he slowly pulled back. Brett groaned. Nothing had ever felt better. His balls tingled and his shaft pulsed. He focused on the euphoric pleasure of Rowan’s wondrous mouth. Rowan groaned and curled his tongue around the sensitive ridge then licked the slit.
    Brett traced Rowan’s brows with his fingertips then curved a pattern along his whisker-rough cheek. Rowan cupped his sac and gently rolled his testicles.
    With his jeans bunched at his knees, he felt too confined. But damn, Rowan’s mouth slid along his shaft again, each glide taking more of his length into the moist heat. Teeth grazed along the underside. Brett gasped and flinched.
    Rowan jerked away. “Did I hurt you?”
    No, but he suspected Rowan was a man who could if Brett allowed himself even the fantasy of something more than a sexual encounter. But he wouldn’t. If he was anything, it was determined. He’d made the decision not to get involved with anyone. Hence, the club and the anonymity.
    The little voice inside laughed, mocking him. He has your name and your phone number. And you are so fucking attracted to him, you were beating off in the kitchen sink and counting down the minutes to this moment. Then I nearly sabotaged my chance with him by pulling a jealous tantrum.
    Did he want a chance? More than a chance. He’d rather lie to himself and remember this was just sex.
    Brett awkwardly kicked off his shoes and finished removing his clothes. Finally he knelt naked in front of Rowan. He sipped Rowan’s lips then trailed kisses along his jaw. “You taste good here,” he whispered and flicked his tongue against Rowan’s earlobe. Then he laved the shell. Rowan’s head fell to the side, giving him more tantalizing flesh to kiss. To taste. To gently nip.
    Rowan snapped up. “Don’t.”
    Brett retreated a few inches. “Don’t what?”
    His eyes wildly darted left then right. “Don’t bite me.”
    “Not a problem. I wouldn’t have bitten hard, just nips.”
    Rowan refocused on Brett. “I’m sorry.” He grasped his head and pulled him into a kiss, a desperate exchange. He latched onto his mouth, clutched his shoulders and kissed him deeply. Tongues, hands and something more.
    He didn’t know what Rowan had been through in the past but he recognized vulnerability. They both carried heavy baggage into this room. Brett applied pressure to Rowan’s chest and he reclined on the chaise. Brett climbed over his body. Together they could leave some behind.
    Leveraging higher, he braced on his knees and arms. “I’m going to need some help getting you out of your pants.” He slid from the chaise.
    Rowan chuckled—a subtle seduction, dark and full of promise. He stood, unsnapped the fly and peeled the tight leather over his hips and down his legs.
    Without the confines of the pants, his cock unfurled, thick, long and straight. His balls were tight—and hairless. Swollen veins