Page 55 of Hurricane Love

“Jesus Christ,” Diego uttered, going up on his toes as Wylie took to deep-throating him in earnest. At this rate, he wasn’t going to last another sixty seconds. Bracing one hand against the tile wall while the other gripped Wylie’s shoulder, Diego rocked his hips, driving his dick deep into the other man’s throat, aroused even more by just how much Wylie seemed to enjoy it. Wide blue eyes stared up at him with worship, but just as Diego found his rhythm, Wylie pinched the base of his dick and stood.

“The fuck?” Diego asked, panting from holding his breath.

“Stew on that for a bit, sexy.” Wylie let go of him completely to reach for the soap. Diego watched him in a stupor as he washed himself, making a production of it. Diego’s balls ached and his dick throbbed. It was a mean thing to do, and Wylie definitely seemed to enjoy his torment.

“Should I?” Diego made a motion of grabbing his own cock.

“No, I’ll finish you off later, after you’ve had the chance to tell me what’s going on in that beautiful head of yours,” Wylie said.

“Asshole,” Diego said with grudging respect for the man’s methods.

“Think of it as motivation.”

Wylie was setting the tone by deciding when he could come, kind of like when he told Diego to wait for him. Diego wrestled with that for a moment, asking himself if he could really submit to Wylie’s demands, but he also knew the reward would be worth it.

The rest of the shower was pure agony, with Wylie rubbing his junk against him at every opportunity and “accidentally” brushing against his aching dick. There was more kissing and some frotting, but nothing that came close to either of them getting off. This was all part of the game, and Diego marveled at the other man’s restraint, lording his orgasms over him as incentive. Even more astonishing was the fact that Diego liked it.

Once out of the shower, they dried off, and neither of them redressed, simply walked naked and still slightly damp into the bedroom. At least he had a frame for his queen-sized bed and comfortable bedding. That was a must-have after sleeping for seven years on a wafer-thin prison mattress. Wylie pulled down the covers and climbed in like he owned the place. Naked and stretched out like a lion at rest, he patted the bed beside him.

“Are you inviting me into my own bed?” Diego asked incredulously.

“Yes, get your fine ass over here so we can get back to the good stuff.”

Diego did as he was told, and Wylie turned to his side so that they were now facing each other. He rested one hand on Diego’s waist, a point of connection for what promised to be a difficult conversation. Diego laid his hand on top of Wylie’s and stared back at the man, patiently waiting for him to begin.

“So, the thing happened, and I got into law school,” Wylie said.

“Congratulations,” Diego said, belatedly, because he’dsomehow forgotten that part of it. “That’s huge, Wy. I’m really,reallyproud of you.”

“Thank you. I’m excited to start. But more importantly, I wanted to remind you that the school is in Gainesville, which is only two hours away from here by car or bus.”

Diego knew what Wylie was hinting at. How could he explain his reservations, which were not only due to his own physical limitations but emotional ones too? “The rules of my probation are strict. I can’t leave the county without filling out paperwork and having my PO sign off on it.”

Wylie nodded but didn’t seem fazed by it. “I can come back on the weekends, as often as we like.”

He just wasn’t getting it. Diego had to make him understand. “How is that going to work with your schoolwork and possibly a job?” Diego asked. He knew that Wylie had saved up some money from working at the pit but not enough to forgo work entirely, not if he wanted to keep his student loans at a minimum.

“That’s for me to figure out,” Wylie said stubbornly.

“Okay, but let’s be real for a minute, since we’re figuring this outtogether,” Diego said, emphasizing that last word. “This is your chance to follow your dreams. Law school isn’t easy. Everyone says that it’s really demanding. Isn’t that right?”

Frowning, Wylie admitted, “Yes, that is what they say.”

“Then isn’t that what you should be focused on? Not some…” Ex-con, recovering addict with a dead-end job and no prospects to speak of.

“Some, what?” Wylie asked, eyebrows quirked with suspicion.

“Someman,” Diego finished.

“You’re not justsome man, Diego. I really like you, possibly love you. I think I might already love you, in fact.”

Those damn blue eyes bore into him, mining him for the truth. Wylie was brave to admit to what had been building between them. Diego had been skirting around the idea for a while now, but to confront those feelings would be too much, too…definitive.What could he do then? And why was Wylie making this so muchharder? Everything in Diego’s heart was telling him to be selfish, to take what Wylie was offering, but the risk was simply too great.

“If it’s meant to be, then it’ll all work out,” Diego said at last.

Wylie sat up fully and gestured wildly with both hands, putting fire behind his words. “I just told you I loved you, and that’s your response? Some vague-ass bullshit? If it’s meant to be, then we both have to work at it and fight for it. What pisses me off is that you don’t even seem willing to try. You just want to throw your hands up and–” He gave a helpless, exaggerated shrug.

“How do you think this could possibly work long term?” Diego asked, sitting up in bed to mirror the man’s posture. He’d always known Wylie was more courageous than him and confident to the point of recklessness.