Page 41 of Line Change

“Yes. I’m still curious.”

His eyes narrow. “You drove over here to answer a text?”

I kiss him again instead of explaining. This time he’s ready for me. Both hands go under my jacket and across my back, pulling me closer until there’s no space left between us. The lock presses into his shoulder. He rocks his hips against mine and sucks on my tongue until my lungs hurt.

His hand drops to my ass and squeezes. I bite the tattoo on his neck. Fraser tips his head, giving me the line of it, and my mouth follows the ink down to his collar. His pulse jumps against my lips. I suck hard enough to leave a mark where his shirt will hide it.

“Fuck,” he says into my hair.

I push the bottom of his shirt up. My palms find warm skin and tight muscle. The tattoo across his chest waits under another few inches of cotton, so I drag the shirt higher.

Fraser catches my wrists. “Not again.”

My head comes up. “What?”

“We’re not fucking in the entryway again.” His grip loosens, but he keeps my hands away from his shirt.

“You have a problem with the entryway?”

“I own a couch. Use it.”

He pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it somewhere behind me. The full sweep of ink over his chest hits me before he catches my jacket and shoves it off my shoulders.

I barely get one arm free before he takes my mouth again.

We make it out of the entryway by running into the wall beside it. Fraser laughs against my lips, then shuts up when I grab his ass with both hands and lift him enough to grind our cocks together. His sweatpants slip lower on his hips. The tattoo along his ribs disappears under the waistband, and I hook my fingers into it.

He gets my T-shirt halfway over my head while I’m trying to push his pants down. For several seconds, I can’t see anything and neither of us will stop kissing. My nose catches fabric. His mouth lands somewhere near my chin. I yank the shirt the rest of the way off and find him again.

Fraser runs both hands over my bare chest. His thumbs drag across my nipples, and the light scrape makes my stomach tighten. He looks down between us while he opens my jeans.

Watching him watch me is almost as good as touching him.

I shove his sweatpants and underwear down together. His cock springs against my stomach, hot and slick at the tip. Fraser curses when I close my hand around it.

“Couch,” he manages.

The back of my knees hits it a few steps later. I sit hard, and Fraser follows me down, one knee on either side of my thighs. His naked cock presses along my stomach while mine is still trapped inside open jeans.

He reaches between us and pulls me free.

His fist closes around my cock. I lose his mouth on a groan. “Still curious?” he asks.

“Shut up.”

I wrap my hand around him and stroke. His head drops forward until our foreheads touch. The first pass is almost dry, but precum is already spilling from the head. I smear it down his shaft with my thumb and feel him pulse in my grip.

His palm glides over me, slower than I want, and twists at the head. My hips lift before I can stop them.

“There,” he says. I kiss him before he can sound pleased with himself.

Our fists work between our bodies while our mouths stay locked. He shifts closer, and our knuckles bump. Neither of us moves away. Fraser takes both cocks together in one hand, squeezing them side by side while I spread more wetness over the heads.

The sight is enough to make my balls draw tight.

I grip the back of his neck and hold him where I can kiss him. His cock slides against mine inside his fist, thick heat rubbing along every stroke. He rolls his hips, fucking the tight circle of his hand while the underside of his shaft drags over mine.

“Fuck, Nolan.”