Love Is Always Write Volume 4

muscles move, didn't watch Jay lick beer off his own lower lip. Much.
    "What grudge match thing?" Simon caught Jay's eyes.
    "Stupid," Jay said, staring at Simon's mouth and confusing the shit out of Simon.
    "No it's not," Tim protested. "It's like, the real thing."
    "Yeah," Jay drawled, drawing a funny half breath. "We can both get real hurt. The crowd will love that." He flattened his hand, sliding his fingers under the strap of Simon's wife-beater.
    "Can somebody explain?" Simon looked from Tom to Tim. He needed to think about something other than Jay's fingers on his shoulder and how much better they would feel elsewhere. He rested one ankle on the opposite knee to camouflage his lap and wished he'd worn a different shirt. Or maybe no shirt. Jay stroked up the back of his neck, thumb sliding under his hair, and breathed out on a bass hum. Jesus . Simon inhaled and let it out slowly. Apparently, beer did a very thorough job of lowering Jay's inhibitions.
    "It's this other knight, Charlie Harris," Tom explained, eyes alight. "We do a big show in Pennsylvania, end of July, us and another group of performers. Him and Jay put on a demonstration a couple of years back, a full-on mounted joust followed by a sword fight. It was so popular, it got written into the show as a grudge thing between two Barons, with Jay and Charlie as their champions. It's awesome."
    "So why don't we do that?" Simon turned back to Jay, raising his eyebrows. "My pathetic sword skills aside?"
    "You're not big enough," Jay said, with no trace of a smile. He set his empty beer on the floor. "Neither is Alan."
    "I beg your pardon? I'm taller than you by, what? Two inches? Three?" Simon huffed.
    "But you don't have the mass." Jay swept Simon's body with a glance, lingering over his lap, where Simon's dick did its best to wave hello. His mouth quirked up on one side. "I've got maybe twenty-five pounds on you, which gives me an advantage. If we jousted for real, I'd have you on the ground the first pass."
    Simon made a face, intending to protest, and turned to face Jay. The last thing he expected was Jay pulling him forward by the back of the neck and kissing him. On the mouth, in front of everybody. With tongue. He tasted like beer and pepperoni and tomato sauce, and the way his tongue swept in and took possession stole Simon's breath.
    "I didn't need to see that," Jason said, while somebody else made a gagging noise.
    "I think it's time for you two to go to your room." Brett's suggestion got a round of verbal approval in five voices.
    "We'll check on the horses," Tim offered.
    "Works for me," Simon murmured.
    CHAPTER 4
    The rain hadn't stopped, although Jay hardly noticed. He couldn't believe he'd done that, kissed Simon in front of everybody. The touching started by accident, and then he couldn't stop, especially once he realized how turned-on Simon was. And Simon's mouth was just so damn tempting, between the full lower lip and the taste of him, sort of smoky and spicy and sweet, all at the same time.
    Simon pinned him up against the door when they got outside, treating him to an open-mouthed wet kiss while he groped Jay's ass two-handed. Somehow, they managed to open the door to Simon's room and get inside without stopping what they were doing. Jay had his hands in Simon's short, dark hair, enjoying the way the soft curls wrapped around his fingers.
    "I want you to fuck me," Simon moaned, and Jay's brain shorted out.
    He blinked at Simon. "Huh?" He'd just assumed Simon wouldn't let him, and he'd been okay with that. Mostly.
    "You do top, yeah?" Simon panted. "Please tell me you top."
    "Yeah, but ... I thought ..." Jay floundered, lost in a rush of pure want; imagining Simon, on his knees, spread out on the bed, waiting for Jay to take him.
    "Right." Simon grinned. "I think I forgot to pack my tiara, but I'm pretty sure I have my 'Size Queen' t-shirt here somewhere. Of course I want you to fuck me. Jesus." He stepped back, toeing off his sneakers and shrugging out of his shirt at the same time; his shorts hit the floor a second later. He carried a lot of muscle on a narrow frame, long-legged with nice, sharp delineation all over. Jay's palms itched with the need to touch all that lightly tanned skin on display.
    Jay wrenched his paddock boots off, not caring where they ended up, and skinned his jeans and briefs down his legs. He kicked them away while he tugged the t-shirt over his head, hissing when Simon took the opportunity to run two warm hands