Love Is Always Write Volume 4

cactus, and Bob chuckled at his enthusiasm.
    "I'm starving, and I need a shower."
    "Thai delivery sound okay?" Jory asked. He set down Mariah and picked up his phone. "I can go home and shower and then come back?"
    About to suggest they shower together, Bob thought it might be better to show some restraint. "Okay," he agreed. "Meet me back here in twenty?"
    "Fifteen," Jory said and tapped on his phone.
    Bob headed for the bathroom and gratefully shucked his filthy jeans. The sound of Jory talking in the other room was strangely comforting.
    Bob was dressed in a clean pair of jeans and a T-shirt and drying his hair with a towel when the buzzer sounded. He admitted the delivery man and took the delicious smelling food with a sigh of pleasure. Bob had plates laid out and the curry steaming in bowls when Jory knocked. Bob yelled for him to come in.
    Jory's brows went up when he saw the display. "Real dishes? Impressive."
    Bob blushed. "Just eat."
    Jory sat down and dished up his plate with rice and assorted curries. He had ordered several different selections, some of which Bob had never tried. They were all spicy and delicious.
    Jory looked more edible than the food, with his dark hair partially slicked back and damp, but with errant strands still falling over his eyes. He wore dark blue jeans and a button down grey shirt with thin white stripes. Bob wanted to unbutton him.
    "You're staring," Jory commented.
    "You're gorgeous."
    Jory stood up and leaned across the table to kiss him. Their mouths locked in a curry and cardamom-flavored kiss that sent more heat to Bob's blood than the seasoning.
    "Take me to bed," Jory murmured.
    "God, yes," Bob replied and stood up with alacrity. He took Jory's hand and led him to the curtained alcove. Bob's fingers shook as they reached for the buttons on Jory's shirt front, but Jory's eyes were soft and encouraging. His hands tugged gently at the hem of Bob's shirt, dragging it from the waistband of his jeans.
    "I haven't—I mean, it's been a long time…" Bob forced himself to shut up. His previous sexual encounters had been awkward and rushed and vaguely unsatisfying. He had never wanted casual flings.
    "We'll take it slow," Jory said, and his hands slipped beneath Bob's shirt to caress his ribs in a leisurely glide. "I'm not going anywhere."
    Bob let out a nervous breath and nodded. He pushed Jory's shirt from his shoulders and smiled when Jory pulled his hands away to unfasten the cuffs. He shrugged out of the fabric and let it fall to the floor. Bob tugged his own t-shirt over his head and let it drop.
    Neither of them wore shoes—Jory had left his by the front door—so it was a simple matter to step out of their jeans. They did so almost frantically, as though needing to shed their clothing quickly in order to get back to the touching. Bob was too nervous to take the final step and remove his boxer briefs, but he didn't have time to worry about it as Jory stepped closer and put his hands on Bob's skin.
    Their next kiss seemed different, more urgent and intense, or perhaps it was only Bob's heightened senses that made it seem so. Jory's hands were almost too warm, sliding over the skin of his back and seeming to leave tingles in their wake. He drew Bob closer. Another shift brought Bob's cock into contact with Jory's and he gasped into Jory's mouth.
    Bob was burning up. He needed more. Impulsively, he slid his hands down Jory's slender back and into the waistband of his briefs to cup his buttocks. Jory's answering groan was music to his ears.
    Bob took two steps back, not releasing Jory's ass. They sprawled on the bed in a tangle and Jory chuckled. "Much better," he said.
    "Yeah," Bob replied. It was. Jory's erection was a hard pressure against Bob's abdomen, lined up alongside his cock, and when Jory rocked a couple of times it felt like sparks shooting off beneath Bob's skin.
    They kissed again, sloppily, mouths askew and imprecise. Bob found it hard to concentrate, attention focused on his cock, especially when Jory's fingers drifted down his side and then into the waistband of Bob's briefs to tease the head of his cock with naked fingers.
    Bob's hips twitched upward, seeking more.
    Jory lifted up to give himself more room, and then his full hand wrapped around Bob's length, not gently. He pulled once, twice, and again. Bob was shaking and feared he wouldn't last.
    "You're so hot, Bobbin," Jory murmured against his lips.
    The name drew a surprised chuckle that helped ease