Brad's Bachelor Party (8 page)

Refusing to look as vulnerable as he felt, Brad whipped off his belt and pulled open the buttons of his fly. He hooked his thumbs through his jeans and his boxers. And, with a simple push, he was naked. He tried hard not to think about how this
was
his first friggin’ full-on rodeo involving his friend.

Who just happened to be a guy.

Brad kicked his clothes aside and straightened up, resuming his nonchalant stance against the back of the couch. And so what if he crossed his arms because he was feeling a little exposed? Because now he was stark-naked, while Cole was fully clothed.

Brad bunched his brow, annoyed he’d let things come to this, and sent Cole a halfhearted frown.

Controlling little bastard.

A muscle in Cole’s jaw twitched as he reached out and laid a hand on Brad’s chest. The traitorous heart beneath lurched in response, and he hoped Cole didn’t notice.

Brad tried for another smirk. “Like what you’re feeling?”

“Pectoralis major,” Cole murmured as if distracted. Cole traced the muscle with the tips of his long fingers, and Brad’s throat went dry. How could such a simple touch be such a turn-on? Cole slid his palm down Brad’s side as he continued. “Internal obliques. External obliques.”

God, he loved the man’s hands. The skillful dexterity in his every move. That kind of talent saved lives…and was now promising to take Brad apart, one broken moan at a time.

Cole’s gaze lifted back to Brad’s, the blue eyes almost black as he slid his fingers to Brad’s stomach. “Rectus abdominis.”

He spread his fingers until they spanned Brad’s lower abdomen, all the way from his navel to the top of the patch of hair covering his crotch.

Brad’s mouth twitched at the edge, and he hoped Cole thought it was in humor instead of from the seizure it was having. “Not that I’m not lovin’ the anatomy lesson here, Doc, but—”

Cole shot him his
shut up
look, and Brad’s tongue froze in his mouth. Eyes still on Brad’s, Cole stepped closer until they were almost touching from knees to chest. Instead of lowering his hand from Brad’s belly to his cock—and Brad refused to admit how much his dick was currently bitching about the oversight—Cole slid his hand around and down to cup Brad’s left cheek.

“The gluteus maximus is the largest muscle in the human body,” Cole said.

“Is this your geek-speak way of telling me you love my ass?”

Cole tipped his head in mock curiosity, and Brad wished he’d get a move on. The slow torture was killing him.

“Is this where you want me?” Cole asked as he brushed his fingers down Brad’s crack.

Heat shot up Brad’s neck, bleeding across his face, nuking him from the inside out. Thoroughly wiping away any smirk left on his face.

“Jesus, Cole,” he said hoarsely. “Just do it already.”

Cole hauled Brad against him, the denim-covered swell of Cole’s hard cock providing sweet friction against his. The promise of relief. And God, he hoped the groan he’d just heard came from Cole and not him, because he didn’t want to sound that needy.

The meeting of their mouths was another battle for control, and Brad managed to remove Cole’s shirt, but he knew there was no way he’d be coming out on top tonight. The kiss was hot, wet, and gloriously messy. Cole might be a geek…former geek—Jesus, Brad wasn’t so sure anymore—but the man knew how to kiss. Expertly manipulating Brad’s lips and tongue. Possessing the inside of his mouth like no one had ever been there before and Cole was friggin’ planting a flag and staking his claim.

When Cole pulled back, Brad’s lips tried to follow, apparently because they’d rather keep kissing Cole than spare the time to inhale the oxygen necessary for life.

At the loss of contact, Brad blinked, wondering what came next. Until Cole was on his knees before Brad, and Brad decided the scene was the
hottest
sight ever, bar none.

His cock at full mast, begging for attention, Brad tensed in anticipation. But Cole leaned in and nipped at Brad’s left hip before trailing his mouth to the other side, his tongue swirling around the matching jut of bone on the right, biting and sucking until Brad knew he’d leave a mark.

“Please tell me you’re going to skip listing out the muscles in my dick,” Brad said.

Crap, he sounded so breathless.

Cole shot him a sharp look from below, an
I’m in charge
expression that Brad might never be able to do without, ever again.

Cole nuzzled the base of his cock. Close, but not close enough, and Brad bit out, “We should move to the bedroom,” mostly in an effort to suppress an embarrassing whimper that could have been mistaken for a beg. Which turned out to be a total waste of time because, when Cole licked a stripe from the base to his head, the sound escaped anyway.

And in one fell swoop Cole took him deep in his mouth.

“Or here…” Brad hissed with a groan, closing his eyes. “Here works too.”

He spread his legs a bit, allowing easier access, and the warm, wet mouth and the skillful application of suction finally made up Brad’s mind. Keeping his eyes closed was a stupid idea.

Brad glanced down and nearly lost his load. Lips stretching tight as Cole slid down Brad’s cock, cheeks hollowing out with every pull, Cole worked him with an elegance he managed in every friggin’ aspect of his life. A small sound escaped Brad’s throat, and he gripped Cole’s hair, urging him on, his vision going fuzzy until he was so close his body tensed. The orgasm so within reach that when Cole’s mouth released him with a wet
pop
, Brad dug his fingers into the back of the couch for stability.

“
Hey
,” Brad said in protest, teetering on the edge of an impressive explosion. Blinking stupidly, he watched Cole search through their mound of clothes and locate his wallet, and Brad finally found the ability to form more complicated words. “What are you—”

Still kneeling, Cole turned him by the hips, a packet of lube and a condom in hand. Cole pressed the front of Brad’s legs against the back of the couch, and Cole’s mouth landed on his left cheek, hands palming his ass.

A weak “oh” was all Brad managed.

Lips glided over Brad’s skin, heating the surface, leaving his heart pounding. Both longing for and dreading what came next. Eventually Brad found his voice again.

“Jesus, Cole,” Brad rasped, feeling way out of his depth as the mouth grew closer to its intended target. “Will I get to participate anytime soon?”

When Cole licked his hole, sparks shot up Brad’s cock, and he arched his back into the sensation. A tongue licking his ass should not have been so erotic. But his cock thought otherwise, making a very convincing argument as Cole spread him wider. Cole took a moment to nibble his right cheek, and Brad briefly caught his breath.

Shouldn’t he be doing something to Cole in return? “Or is this gonna be a one-man show…
fuuuck
.”

Cole pressed his tongue inside, and Brad had to use his arms to support himself, legs shaking. Panting like he was sprinting a goddamn marathon. Being manhandled until he was bound to babble like an idiot. Cole ignored him, breaching the circle of muscle over and over. Carrying on with his evil plan to take Brad apart in every possible way. Bringing him close to the brink again. The sparks shot higher and then disappeared when Cole pulled his mouth away.
Gone.

Brad groaned, “No—”

“Patience.”

And then Cole was standing up and bending him over from behind, his mouth between his shoulder blades, on his neck, at his jaw. A packet was torn, there was the slick sound of lube, and a familiar rush moved through Brad. Edginess and tightness and anticipation in all the right places—even hotter for the fact that this was unknown territory.

With one hand Cole held Brad’s chest, keeping them close. Before Brad could process what came next, wet, slippery lube was swiped across his hole. A gentle touch. A single finger followed by a stretch and a burn. An invasion Brad couldn’t decide if he liked or not.

He was ready to beg for Cole’s mouth on his ass again, but then Cole gently bit Brad’s neck and dragged the pad of his thumb across Brad’s nipple. The delicious back-and-forth motion, the scrape of Cole’s nail across the nub, took that single intrusive finger and made it all okay. More than okay. Glorious minutes ticked by, and by the time Cole added a second digit, the pleasure of being worked open burned through Brad. A third was fine too. And when Cole hit a sensitive bundle of nerves, pleasure shot through Brad and he swore, dropping his head forward. The next thing he knew, Brad was asking for more—which was embarrassing as hell.

Stunned, Brad ground out, “Seriously, did I just ask for another finger up my ass?”

Cole didn’t answer, just removed his hand, and suddenly there was a blunt pressure at Brad’s asshole, and Brad froze. Cole eased forward, and the weight of him, the fullness, the sharp stretch of his cock was overwhelming. The muscle was too tight. And Cole was too much.
Too much.

Brad panted through the sensation.

Leaning his forehead against Brad’s back, Cole dropped his hand to Brad’s dick. “You okay?” he asked quietly

All his friend got in return was a small nod of Brad’s head. For the first time in his life, he was totally out of smart-ass comebacks.

As if letting him adjust, Cole didn’t move except to work Brad’s cock, taking a moment to transform the stretch in his ass from too much into just right. With time, the blood returned to all his vital body parts again, and Brad’s dick decided it was nowhere near close to being
enough.

Cole thumbed the precum at his sensitive head, and Brad’s hand shot back and scrabbled for purchase on Cole’s thigh. “My God…” he hissed, drowning in the sensation. Screw the vow not to beg. “Cole…”

A few more seconds passed with nothing but the aching promise of more and the friggin’ awesome stroke of his cock, and Brad finally broke.

“C’mon, Cole, you’re not going to hurt me.” Brad pushed back against Cole’s cock, taking all of him until Cole’s balls hit Brad’s ass. “Move.”

Cole got with the program then, drawing back and thrusting forward again, and Brad might have let out a broken moan. Maybe the first of several, because Cole found a rhythm that was hard and deep, lighting Brad on fire with the intensity. And goddamn it, he knew he’d wind up babbling. Soon he was incapable of communication outside of muttering two words, one of them being
yes
and the other
fuck
. Cole seemed to be having a similar problem.

“
Brad
,” Cole ground out, sounding wrecked.

Brad was too far gone to comment on Cole’s loss of control, too far gone to beat his chest or gloat like the ass Cole accused him of being. But he almost let out a sob, grateful he wasn’t the only one coming unglued here. Just when Brad thought he’d fly apart, Cole adjusted his angle and thrust hard, bringing Brad to his toes and hitting the mother of all sweet spots.

Sparks flashed dangerously brightly, but Cole gripped the base of Brad’s cock, keeping him from blowing his load.

“Ah,” Brad said, and that was that last recognizable noise he made.

Slack-jawed, Brad couldn’t think beyond the next stab of pleasure, totally mute beside the occasional mewling sound. With every other snap of his hips, Cole punched that pleasure point. With every thrust, Brad aided Cole’s efforts by pushing back, his eyes now firmly rolled up in his head. He needed more. He needed relief. He needed to come like ten years ago.

And holy fuck, if this was what full man-on-man action was like, what sex with
Cole
was like, then Brad was firmly on board. Sign him up, move him to the head of the class, and pin a fucking rainbow to his chest.

Cole hissed, his movements growing rougher. Less practiced. Hips pumping almost erratically. “I wanna…” Cole’s voice was hoarse. “M’gonna…”

And with one sharp thrust, Cole released Brad’s cock, the orgasm slamming into Brad like a fucking freight train, stripping his bones from his body.

He was vaguely aware of Cole stiffening and shouting his name from behind. Dimly conscious of Cole riding out his orgasm before they both slid to the floor. But it was several minutes or more before Brad fully came to again. His shoulder slumped against Cole’s, their backs propped against the back of the couch. Brad struggled to suck in enough air. His ass throbbed, and he shifted to get more comfortable, but the feel-good warmth of his orgasm still buzzed in his veins.

“Damn, Cole,” Brad said lazily, his chest heaving. “You never told me what a freak you are in the sack.”

Cole let out an amused
hunh.

As the full weight of what they’d done settled, the smile slowly slipped from Brad’s mouth. This couldn’t be explained away as a bachelor-party prank, no matter how hard he tried. He was an expert in denial, but even this was beyond his capabilities. Brad couldn’t shrug this off as payback or curiosity or even a simple joke. This was Brad wanting all of Cole.

He’d slept with his best man, and he was set to marry Jenny tomorrow. A promise was a promise, even ones made with mostly business in mind.

And how could he ensure Danny’s future if he lost his job?

The reality washed over him, overwhelming his capacity to think. “Where do we go from here?” Brad immediately hated himself for saying the words out loud.

For ruining the moment.

He watched Cole stand up. His friend stared down at him for several seconds, his eyes hooded, his expression unreadable, his skin damp with sweat. Brad hoped Cole was going to provide him with one of his brilliant answers.

Instead, Cole held out his hand. “We’re going to the bedroom.”

And for now, that was answer enough.

Chapter Eleven

Cole leaned his hips back against the dresser in the dim light of the hotel bedroom, studying Brad. Arms and legs sprawled across the king-size mattress, face planted in the comforter, he looked dead to the world. The bedcovers were a rumpled mess. And a sliver of moonlight streamed across Brad’s naked body, hugging the hills and valleys of the well-defined muscles of his thighs and buttocks and shoulders.