...Ben wondered as he rose about what John had said. Was John going to be sated with Ben one of these days? They had no ties, no promises, and while the sex was insanely good, at some point wasn’t one, or maybe both of them, going to decide it was just time to move on to greener pastures? The thought made Ben’s stomach knot and he shoved aside the feeling. Not tonight. He’d come to New York to make it up to John for being a neurotic mess. He wasn’t going to repeat that performance.
It was easy to put aside the bothersome thoughts when John took Ben’s hand and gave it a squeeze as they headed outside. “I’m dying for you to fulfill the promises those eyes of yours are making.” He brought Ben’s hand to his mouth and gave his knuckles a teasing bite.
Ben grinned and followed John through the street, winding past crowds, dodging messenger bikes and traffic as they jogged across to the other sidewalk. When John stopped, Ben glanced up at the narrow, shabby building. The motel’s sign had not a single functioning bulb, and he was pretty sure it was worse than his crappy apartment in LA.
“Classy.” He chuckled, giving John a sideways grin.
John rolled his eyes and tugged on Ben’s hand, leading him inside. “Zip it. If it weren’t for this ‘classy’ joint, we’d be finding a bench in Central Park to fuck on.”
Ben laughed and shrugged. John had a point. “Sold. Lead the way, Casanova.”
The clerk didn’t even glance up as they passed, and Ben’s brows lifted as they headed to the third floor. He had grave reservations about these stairs. John’s door opened only with a solid wrench of the knob, but, for once, Ben wasn’t inclined to mock. He had come all the way to New York, and the need to be stripped naked and taste his lover was overwhelming.
Ben glanced around the dingy, tiny room, his eyes flashing with mischief even as he reached for John. “Charming.”
“I know I am.”
John caught the nape of Ben’s neck and kissed him, his lips hot, devouring. Ben rose up on his toes and kissed him back, and the hunger sharpened in his stomach. He groaned when John slid his free hand down to his ass, gripping, kneading.
Ben wound his arms around John’s neck, fingers diving into his hair to hold him for the kiss. One leg came up to hook on his lover’s hip, and John took advantage of it, his hand dipping down the back of Ben’s jeans to cup his ass. Ben wanted to drive his Casanova crazy, so when he went back home, he was assured John was thinking about him and damn well eager to come back to LA soon.
Pulling back from the kiss, Ben gave John a superior smile and placed both hands flat on his chest to push away from him and the door. John’s brows lifted, but he didn’t move, watching intently as if he knew something was coming. He probably did. No one knew Ben like John did.
Ben kept his eyes on John’s, one hand tugging his shirt over his head, the other on the button and zipper of his jeans. Leaving them open, but on, Ben strode to the window, flipping the lock and pushing the two panes outward to let in the noise and scents of New York, then turned back to John.
“Fuck me so the whole city hears us, Casanova.”
“You dirty man.” John’s cock was blatantly hard in his jeans and his eyes were gleaming as he grinned and closed the space separating them. “What’s a—”
Ben clapped a hand over his mouth. “To do? Fuck me.”
John shuddered and nipped Ben’s palm, sending a shiver racing through him. John made him dizzy, with his proximity, the way he smelled, his heat and with his intensity. When John ran his palms over Ben’s chest and sank to his knees, dragging Ben’s jeans down to his thighs, Ben swore his knees would buckle.
John didn’t wait. He dragged his tongue over Ben’s cock, from balls to tip. He caught Ben’s gaze and slid his mouth over him, taking him deep into his throat...