Page 15 of Checking Out the Librarian

“Are you always this agreeable?” Jonathan’s voice was a whisper across the skin in the hollow of Connor’s throat. He needed more than the stirring of air. He needed to be touched so much he was close to groaning, but he held back. Jonathan would do it, he was certain.

“Summer vacation,” he muttered.

“It’s only the middle of June.” Jonathan’s fingers were busy flicking down Connor’s chest, releasing buttons, stroking the exposed skin, giving him what he wanted.

“Vacation from being in charge.”

The man in front of him made a low-pitched hum that Connor interpreted as pleasure. “I can work with that.”

Cool hotel room air brushed where there had been the barrier of his fabric. His skin tightened where Jonathan’s fingers trailed up the centerline of his chest and wafted through his chest hair. He’d been staring at the man under that black mesh all night, and knew Jonathan had none. He wanted to rub himself all over that smooth chest, but he waited.

He could open his eyes and look, though.

Jonathan had such cute teeth, peeking out where he nibbled at his lower lip. “How much in charge do you want me to be?”

“Very? All. Anything.”

That earned him another of those lovely little hums.

“Then keep your hands on the door.” Jonathan sifted through his chest hair again, up and down Connor’s pecs and through his hair and lower to his stomach, then up again, until he shook with his desire to touch Jonathan back. But he did exactly as he’d been told, kept his hands on the door, and away from Jonathan.

Every flutter of Jonathan’s fingers across his chest and collarbones made it more difficult, but he obeyed.

“It’s your choice, Connor. Remember that.”

Hearing Jonathan say his name made his legs and arms feel heavy and solid. Anchored, that’s how he felt.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” Jonathan whispered before he slid cool fingers behind Connor’s neck and into the hair at the base of his skull, pressing his head forward with the necessary tilt that would bring their faces together. “Do you want that?”

Even this close, Jonathan’s skin looked flawlessly smooth. His eyebrows were a perfect matched set that Connor wanted to trace, but he had to keep his hands on the door. “Please.”

He lost himself in the sensations of sweet chocolate, bitter coffee and first kisses. This was nothing more than an excellent hookup, but he knew he’d always remember the moment when their lips met, soft and parted, his between Jonathan’s, and then Jonathan’s lower lip between his as he stroked his tongue across that pillow. It was everything he’d imagined.

Jonathan arched closer to him, rubbed up and down without separating their mouths, while the mesh fabric of his shirt slid across Connor’s bare chest. He could feel the cool press of hard buttons into his skin. The tweaks where they caught in his chest hair zapped straight to his cock. He wanted to look down and see the black mesh that made the shoulder panels resemble a dirty version of a Western shirt wrapped around his cock so he could see through the fabric and watch himself mess it up. He wanted to be touched, and he wanted to touch, but Jonathan hadn’t released him yet, so he poured his need into their kiss.

Jonathan pulled away, leaving Connor open-mouthed and bending, but then the other man put his hands on Connor’s cheeks, bracketing his face.

Yes. That was good.

Jonathan stared into his eyes. “I wonder how much self-control you have.”

“A lot.” He nodded. “Like a lot lot.”

“Oh, darling, you’re not supposed to dare other men, don’t you know that?”

“No, nope, didn’t know that.” Connor shook his head but managed to suppress his grin.

“You hold onto this door while I test your answer.”

Connor thought he said yes, please, believed he formed the words, but possibly he only groaned. Yet, Jonathan understood. He slowed his movements until Connor felt like he was floating.

Jonathan let his mouth follow Connor’s jaw to his neck, back to his ear, the edge of his lips, and the spot where his neck met his shoulder. That spot got a graze of teeth that made Connor buck his hips. He kissed everywhere but Connor’s mouth, which was open and panting.

He could hear his own breathing growing louder, turning into gasps and then even louder, probably into heaving, as Jonathan explored his skin.

Fuck, he’d reached Connor’s nipples, stroking and twirling and then pinching. The tiniest scrape. He wanted more. And then he pinched them unexpectedly hard for one instant, which tightened every big muscle group Connor had—his quads, his glutes, his traps—and a fuck ton of the small ones too.

Before he could respond, Jonathan let go and ran the soft tip of his tongue in circles around the sensitive skin.