The Billionaire Bad Boys Club(12)
Author: Emma Holly

“Oh boy.” Trey dragged his thumb and fingers down the sides of his expressive mouth. He had long creases there when he smiled, like dimples on steroids.

“What?” Zane asked, because Trey looked sheepish. “Should we save this for another night?”

Trey shook his head and laughed breathily. “Here’s the thing: If f**king you hurts me a little, it’ll get me extra hot.”

Zane didn’t think of Trey as a guy who kept secrets. His face gave him away too easily. Zane’s obvious amazement must have embarrassed him. Trey’s face turned redder than his cockhead.

“I don’t mind that,” Zane hurried to reassure him. “I’m just surprised you kept this to yourself.”

Trey didn’t explain why he had. He grabbed Zane’s hands, hauling him off the couch and kissing him thoroughly. Zane enjoyed that, but didn’t forget his agenda.

“Phew,” he said, disengaging his tingling lips. Their groins were plastered together, their long na**d cocks squashed as close as possible. Zane wondered if his curls were chafing Trey’s waxed skin—and if this was good or bad. Whatever the answer, Trey was revved. His slit was leaking a steady trickle of pr**cum.

Loving that, Zane rubbed the moisture slowly across their side-by-side dick heads.

Dropping his gaze to watch, Trey bit out a breathless curse.

“Stay,” Zane ordered, sitting back on the couch himself.

He kept his hold on Trey’s hands, fingers locked to form conjoined fists. Normally, he’d have gripped the base of Trey’s penis before he went down on him, but he trusted him not to over thrust. The gamble had a nice payoff. Trey’s fingers tended to telegraph every shift in his tension. They tightened like iron when Zane’s mouth sank over him.

Trey sighed as sweetly as if it were his first time.

Zane never lost his enthusiasm for this act. Sucking Trey’s c**k was his idea of heaven. Tonight, it looked like his friend wasn’t destined to last long. His moans grew louder, his fingers clenching Zane’s as his thighs knotted. Taking pity, Zane switched to lapping the flat of his tongue up him.

Trey’s body undulated from knees to chest.

Laughing, Zane sat back with his legs sprawled. His c**k could have been a pole planted at his crotch. “You’re not up for teasing right now, are you?”

Trey shook his head and panted.

Zane was going to do it anyway. Sliding off the couch, he kneeled on the carpet to nip and kiss Trey’s hipbone. Trey had a sexy muscle that swooped and fell around it. Zane mouthed his way along it until he reached Trey’s dragon. With a little prayer that he hurt him the right amount, he pulled his tongue across the slightly hotter skin where the tattoo artist had performed his magic.

Once he’d left a trail of wetness, he blew on it.

Trey shuddered, fingers gripping Zane’s hard enough to hurt. Zane’s c**k began to tremble, sympathetically excited. The tattoo made this better, the knowledge that his lover could not only take the pain but actually got off on it. Maybe this said weird things about Zane’s kinks, but he couldn’t help enjoying that Trey was tough. Again Zane licked, a longer swipe this time . . .

Then he dragged his tongue to the very tip of the dragon’s tail.

“Stop,” Trey begged, a mere breath of air. “I’m too close to going.”

Zane stopped. He wanted Trey to last too. “You ready to take me then?”

“I’m ready,” Trey said. “You need a bit of prep.”

Zane and Trey’s two-bedroom apartment was their sanctum. They didn’t bring female dates here, and only close friends hung out. Because of this, they didn’t hesitate to stock every room with supplies. Considering how much they liked sex, they never knew where the mood would strike.

Trey reached into the end table drawer for KY and Trojans. Tossing them to Zane, he shifted the lamp and table out of their way. Making sure they didn’t trash their belongings was usually Zane’s job. Watching Trey’s arm muscles tighten with the familiar task sent an odd thrill through him.

“Stand,” Trey said. His voice was every bit as authoritative as Zane’s could be. “I’m going to f**k you over that couch arm.”

Zane stood. His legs were stiff as he moved into the specified position, his forward bend on the padded leather unavoidably awkward. This was Trey’s place, exactly to a T. Zane rested his weight on his elbows, craning his head around as his friend stepped closer.

“Good,” Tray praised, sliding both hands around Zane’s butt cheeks. His palms were warm, his caress admiring.

He took the lube away from Zane’s hand.

Zane had engaged in butt play a time or two—a thumb crooked into his hole to excite him, a lick that skirted the forbidden. Until tonight, that was as far as it went. Trey had never stuck a finger all the way in before, much less one coated in warm lube. Zane must have been readier than he knew. His body didn’t resist the smooth intrusion.

“God,” he said, squirming helplessly. His interior tingled around Trey’s knuckles, and his c**k had begun to drip. “Jeez, Trey, that feels so good.”

Trey bent over to kiss his nape, hot breath stirring the short hairs there. “Want to try another finger before you take my dick?”

Zane did and didn’t, his every erotic nerve suddenly impatient. “Yes,” he said, because he had to give some answer.

Trey pulled out, squeezed more lube down his crack. His way prepared, he pushed two fingers into him. That was even better. Zane groaned, his spine arching with pure need. Seeming to understand what he wanted, Trey moved his slick fingers. He curved them to match Zane’s passage, their probing almost too gentle. Gentle or not, they felt incredible. In and out they rubbed—deep, slow—sending waves of feeling through his body.

Zane gritted his teeth with pleasure, helpless to keep his moans inside. “Tell me, Trey. Why did I . . . wait so long to do this?”

Trey laughed and pulled his fingers out, eliciting a small whine from Zane. Paper ripped. Trey had grabbed a towelette packet to wipe his hand.

“Nothing wrong with waiting until you’re ready.” To Zane’s relief, Trey’s voice was thick with anticipation. “You’re bound to enjoy it more this way.”

Zane was already enjoying it. He still held the box of condoms, his tensed-up hand having crumpled the cardboard. Trey rescued the squashed package and took out what he needed.

Unable to resist, Zane turned his head to watch. As graceful as a sculptor smoothing a length of clay, Trey rolled the latex on.