Page 39 of Hurricane Love

Wylie saw Hannah and Kayla off, and most of the old folks retired to their homes for the night with a small contingent still chatting under the stars, drinking wine. Diego was in Wylie’s trailer, relaxing on the couch while looking at some of the old framed photographs of him and his mom when the man himself returned. But Wylie held himself stiffly, his nervous energy radiating from across the room.

“You all right?” Diego asked because the man was ten feet away and didn’t seem to want to come any closer.

“I’ve been planning for this for so long, and now that you’re here, it’s just…” Wylie seemed to shake himself from his stupor. “I don’t want to fuck this up.”

Diego found it endearing that there was some doubt lurking underneath the man’s seemingly endless bravado, but he couldn’t resist the urge to tease him. “You did talk a big game.”

“Fuck, I know,” Wylie groaned, drawing both hands down his face.

“And you did promise me the best sex I’ve ever had in my life,” Diego added with a raised eyebrow.

Wylie then said with the utmost seriousness, “I’m fairly certain you’ll feel the same way, especially given your recent dry spell.”

Diego stood and closed the distance between them, laid both hands on the man’s strong biceps. “You still wanna do this?”

“One hundred percent, I have never wanted anything more in my life,” Wylie assured him.

“Okay, well, I’m going to go to the bathroom. Why don’t you take a minute to relax and get your head right? We can always just mess around. Or watch TV. No pressure.”

Wylie nodded, seeming relieved. Diego pecked his forehead lightly, then grabbed his duffle bag. The bathroom was the size of a closet with Diego barely being able to make a full rotation without knocking into something. He did his best with the prep with the exhaust fan steadily droning to cover up the noise of him releasing into the toilet. He should have told Wylie to play some music. He elected to take a quick shower after that business, and washed himself thoroughly in the cramped stall while hyping himself up. It had to go better than the last time, right?

After a short debate on whether to redress, Diego figured, fuck it, grabbed a towel and slung it around his hips, then returned to the bedroom naked. Wylie was there already, naked as well and lying in bed. He shot up to a sitting position when Diego entered, his hungry eyes roving over him from top to bottom.

“What took you so long?” Wylie asked.

“I had to, you know,prepare.” Diego gestured vaguely to his backside.

“Oh, you didn’t have to do all that. I don’t mind riding dirty,” Wylie said with a leer. Diego huffed and rolled his eyes at thatcomment, but before he could retort, Wylie continued with a sudden glee, “Does this mean I can eat your ass?”

Face burning, Diego threw the towel at the other man’s head and ripped down the bedspread so that he could lie on top of the bedsheet. With both hands behind his head and his ankles crossed, Diego’s posture was a pantomime of relaxation, but his heart was beating like a trapped bird in his chest, and his senses were on high alert. He watched Wylie closely, as one would a predator, and waited for him to make the next move.

Meanwhile, Wylie knelt at the foot of the bed with his big hands resting on his thighs and simply stared at Diego. Not his face, but his body, assessing him like he was a mountain he was preparing to climb. Starting at his feet, his heated gaze traveled slowly upward, setting Diego’s skin ablaze, so much that he started to sweat a little, but it was probably just the residual heat from the shower. Eventually, Wylie’s lusting gaze met his own and he said with complete sincerity, “You are so fine. Like, underwear-model fine. It’s a little overwhelming. I don’t know where to start.”

“Maybe you should start by sucking my dick,” Diego suggested, his cock already plumped up from Wylie’s slow perusal.

“Nah, I’m going to start down here.” Wylie grabbed one of Diego’s feet and brought it to his lap. Diego pulled back because no oneevertouched his feet.

“You’re going to rub my feet?” he asked incredulously.

“Yeah, do you mind?”

Diego shrugged while the other man squeezed some of what looked like massage oil onto his palm. Had Wylie planned for this? A foot rub was an altogether different animal from what Diego had expected, but he resolved to be flexible.

Wylie started by rubbing the ball of Diego’s foot with slow, methodical sweeps of his thumbs before applying pressure to his arch. Working on his feet all day, Diego hadn’t realized just how much they could use a nice massage. It felt indulgent andundeserved, but he relaxed into Wylie’s firm grip and let himself be pampered. He even let out a few murmurs of appreciation here and there, if only to let Wylie know he was on the right track.

“You’re good at that,” Diego said, somewhat reluctantly. Just one more of the man’s many talents.

“Thank you. Touch your dick. I wanna see you stroke it.”

Diego put out his hand and Wylie supplied him with some of the oil. Diego took hold of his hard cock and slowly jacked himself while Wylie watched him intently, mouth open, blue eyes darkened with desire. “Hot,” he remarked, licking his lips to swirl the piercing across his mouth.

“You like the show?” Diego asked, admiring his own piece of work. Glistening from the oil and sticking straight up like a fluted column with a nicely shaped flared head. Not bad.

“Yeah, you’re gorgeous,” Wylie said, eyes never leaving Diego’s dick.

Wylie’s own cock was stiff and swollen, lying like a weighty branch between his bent legs. Diego would be lying if he said he wasn’t intimidated by the man’s size. Maybe he should mention that, just for the record.

“My first time wasn’t a good one,” Diego said. Wylie’s attention refocused on his face, concern etched in his features. “It was consensual, but it was rushed. The guy basically slapped some Vaseline on his dick and crammed it in, got off in like five seconds, and that was it.”