Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 1

no more talk. Just two men, hyper aware of each other, with an hour on their hands, and nothing left to be done.
    On the same wavelength, Travis turned to face me, and wrapped one of his big hands behind my head. Neither of us moved for a long minute. My pulse raced and breath quickened. A sudden rush of fight or flight made every muscle twitch in anticipation. This man did things to my head that I didn't much care for. Made me question who I thought I was, what I wanted. He'd said he didn't do casual… and he wasn't out. I was both casual and out, and pretty damned happy with my life most of the time. So, what the fuck was this? As if that wasn't trouble enough, we were partners. At least for this week. If we did this and still had to work with each other every day… yeah, this was just fucking wrong on so many levels.
    "Stop. You're thinking too damned much, Sam. We'll worry about what this is later." Apparently, Travis was a mind reader, too. Then I did quit thinking, because Travis slid from the couch and moved between my knees. He pushed the vest from my shoulders and whispered, "Gotta taste you, now."
    Teeth tugged at one nipple ring and fingers pinched the other, and any switch still waiting to be flipped clicked straight on over to fully engaged. My legs fell open and Travis pressed his chest against my denim-clad cock while he worked at my pecs. Tongue and teeth, pain and soothe, pinch, then palm. I arched into the sensations and my head was heavy against the back of the couch. Hands tugged at my fly, and then I was lifting my hips at the silent command of strong fingers.
    I opened heavy lids and watched as Boudreaux got a look at my fully erect package. I'm vain—sue me.
    "Jesus Christ," he whispered. Then his lips wrapped around the dark chocolate mushroom head of my long, curved dick. He made appreciative noises as he started sliding me in and out of his mouth. Each pass was hotter, wetter, deeper. He moaned with my cock deep in his throat. Oh fuck .
    "You like that? One of these days I'm gonna stick that cock in your ass and fuck you blind, Boudreaux." I held the back of his head and pressed down gently. He opened and took all of me, and his throat worked as he struggled to breathe. His head bobbed faster. One hand worked my balls, his pace as frenzied and hot as my need. He needed to pull off or I was going to lose my load in that hot, sweet mouth.
    I reached between us to push him away and finish myself, but he knocked my hand back with a growl. That was all the invitation I needed. I gripped his head with both hands and drove relentlessly, pounding the back of this throat until my hips thrust a final time and the cum pumped from me in white-hot spurts that left me in heart-stuttering spasms. When he'd swallowed every last drop he could suck out of me, he hummed and gentled me out of his mouth with licks and kisses. He wasn't finished.
    "Don't fucking move," Travis said.
    As if that was likely. I didn't think I could voluntarily control my muscles yet. His hands were shaking as he quickly stripped, and climbed on top of me where I sat sprawled on the couch. With one hand on his cock, his other hand went back to pulling and tugging on a gold hoop.
    "I fucking love the piercings," he said. His voice was a whispered growl in the quiet apartment. He slapped his cock against my pecs, then rubbed the head against the metal loop as I arched up into the touch. "I can't… oh shit… yes… Sam…." With just a few short strokes, he shot his load on my chest.
    His whole body shuddered with the effort to remain upright. I guided him forward until I was supporting his weight as he leaned against the back of the couch. Breathing hard, we both stayed that way for a few minutes. With my face pressed against his stomach, I was able to kiss and lick some of his salty jizz. Delicious.
    Before we moved, I took a few minutes to appreciate the man spread over the top of me. My imagination hadn't done him justice, despite the fantasies. His everyday business attire had camouflaged the hard, heavy build. I knew he was a runner, and his chest and legs were golden from the sun. Our contrasting skin tones were hot as hell. I stroked my hand over his creamy white ass and knew I'd be coming back for more. The thought of watching my big black dick breach his hole had my tired cock twitching with interest.
    I pushed that thought away, for now. It was time to get to work.
    CHAPTER 5
    There aren't many things in life more