Love Is Always Write Volume 4

chest. He produced the lube from under a pillow and squirted a generous amount on three fingers.
    Without the least trace of shyness, he crouched over Simon, feet flat on the bed, and reached behind himself to shove all three fingers up his ass. Dear God . Simon froze, mesmerized by the way Jay bit his lower lip and his nearly silent moan. Jay smiled at him, lip still caught between his teeth, and moaned a little louder. His cock hung long and heavy between his spread thighs, a pearly drop suspended at the tip.
    Simon tore open the wrapper and put on the condom as fast as his unsteady hands could manage, moaning behind his teeth. Maybe he could get Jay to do that again facing the other way, or maybe they could find some sleazy motel with a shitload of mirrors so he could watch no matter what. Either way, he planned on doing this again. Over and over.
    He pushed his cock upright and touched Jay's knee. "Come on. Let me see you take it."
    Balancing with his fingertips grazing Simon's sternum, Jay dropped gracefully onto his knees, and let Simon line them up. He sank down, sheathing Simon in fever heat, and the light from the bathroom played across his abdomen and chest, highlighting every muscle. Simon ran his hands up the powerful thighs bracketing his waist, crisp hair tickling his palms.
    Jay closed his eyes, and bit down hard on his lower lip. Then he moved, a wicked roll of his hips that dragged a groan out of Simon. Jay rode him, a quick upward wiggle followed by a dizzying downward push, and right when Simon ran out of air, Jay took his cock in hand and started to pump, matching his hips stroke for stroke.
    Simon dug his heels into the mattress and prayed he could hold on another minute, muttering "oh God" under his breath as he watched Jay's balls draw up. Jay's head dropped back as he changed tactics and simply fucked his fist; Simon held on to his thighs and gave him a slam on every down stroke until Jay's low moaning changed to increasingly desperate sobs.
    "Harder." Jay's chin dropped to his chest. "So close. Simon, baby, harder -- oh." His shocked grunt told Simon what he needed to know, and he changed stride, going for short hard jerks that kept him on target while Jay screamed behind clenched teeth and spattered Simon's chest with musky heat. Jay's entire body tensed as he came, every muscle delineated, gorgeous and totally unselfconscious as he lost himself in what Simon made him feel.
    The first mind-bending clench of Jay's ass sent Simon over the edge right behind him, long spasms milking him past pleasure to the borderland of pain. He kept moving through the aftershocks, rocking to a stop only when Jay's breath caught on a whuff of discomfort.
    Jay seemed dazed, allowing Simon to ease them apart and nearly whimpering when Simon tried to get out of bed to wipe off. Simon let Jay burrow against him, murmuring nonsense into Jay's hair, his ear, soothing both of them. Then Jay dragged his face down and kissed him; his mouth moving so sweetly, so hot and tender, that Simon gave up and sank into Jay, wrapping them both up in his arms until they fell asleep.
    ****
    The next time Simon woke up, the sun was up, or at least he figured it was. His cellphone skittered and buzzed down on the floor, whistling at him to announce a text. He got it on the first try, bringing it up to his face and rubbing his eyes until he could focus. He read the text, acknowledged it, and dropped the phone back on the floor.
    Today's show, or his and Jay's part at least, was cancelled. The horses got a day off on account of the rain, and because the field they had been using was a soupy mess. Fine by him. He and Jay could go off and have breakfast, preferably IHOP, and maybe get on the road in the early afternoon. Or they could stay here, in bed, and head out tomorrow morning. That sounded even better.
    It did occur to Simon that he couldn't hear Jay anywhere. He'd assumed Jay was in the shower, or just the bathroom. Simon sat up. Jay's clothes were gone, and his shoes. He had a vague memory of Jay kissing the back of his neck, and a tentative touch of a hand on his hair. Taken together, both things seemed oddly ... final.
    Son of a bitch .
    CHAPTER 6
    Jay was with the horses, forking manure into a tub, wearing his clothes from last night. His wet black t-shirt clung to his body, and for some reason, the sight spiked Simon's temper up another notch.
    "So this is where you got to." Simon smiled grimly when Jay couldn't disguise a