by K. C. Wells
Brady leaned into Jordan as the guests around them laughed. “These days, kids are likely to report a parent who did that for child abuse,” he said in a low voice.
Jordan gazed at him with interest. “How do you feel about having kids?”
Brady snickered. “Whoa. Slow down.”
“I don’t mean now, obviously,” Jordan whispered. “But in the future? Have you ever thought about it?” He had to admit, it wasn’t something that lit a fire under him. Other people’s kids were great. Having a few of his own was another matter entirely.
Brady bit his lip. “Not really. I guess I’m not the paternal type.” He peered closely at Jordan. “Is that a deal breaker?”
Jordan hastened to reassure him. “Not in the slightest.”
Brady heaved a sigh. “Thank God.” He nudged Jordan’s belly with his elbow. “You’re being talked about.”
“Huh?” Jordan returned his attention to Drake and Belinda, who were staring at him with amusement.
“As I was just saying,” Drake said pointedly, “we’re especially glad our friend Jordan Wolf could be with us this weekend, seeing as he’s known Belinda and I since we first started dating. In fact, us being here is all his fault.”
Belinda coughed loudly, and a couple of people snickered.
“Okay, let me rephrase that. Jordan introduced us, so I guess we have him to thank.” Drake turned to Belinda with a smirk. “Is that better, honey?”
She gave him a sweet smile. “I’ll tell you later when there are no witnesses.” When their guests had stopped laughing, her gaze met Jordan’s. “Who knows? In a few years’ time, we could be in New York, helping Jordan and Brady celebrate their anniversary.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief.
Jordan erupted into a coughing fit, and more laughter ensued. Brady joined in. “Er, Belinda? That might classify as a cart-before-horse situation.” He grinned.
Belinda matched his grin. “Hey, I’ll organize it. All you two have to do is be there.”
Jordan cleared his throat and raised his glass. “To Drake and Belinda. Happy anniversary, and many more of them.” His toast echoed around the room as glasses were raised.
Drake waved a hand in the air. “That’s it for the speeches. There’s plenty more food and champagne to be consumed, so enjoy yourselves.”
Conversations resumed, and the music began playing again in the background.
Brady chuckled. “Neatly dodged, if I may say so,” he murmured.
“Who was dodging?” Jordan brushed his lips over Brady’s ear, noting the shiver that coursed through him. “Who’s to say where we’ll be in a few years’ time? I have no idea, but I’ll lay even money that wherever we are, we’ll still be together.” He put his arm around Brady’s waist and kissed his cheek. “Because I am not letting you go.”
“Just so you’re aware? That comes across as either really romantic—or very sinister.”
Jordan laughed.
Marty bounced up to them with Dawn following him more sedately. “So, Uncle Jordan, does that mean you and Brady are going to get married now?”
Dawn rolled her eyes. “You are such a douche bag. And who says they have to get married? Just because your jack-wad buddy’s brother got married to a guy doesn’t mean everybody has to.” She spoke with all the superiority that only a fourteen-year-old girl could nail.
“Excuse me?” Belinda’s eyes almost bulged out. “Since when do I let you talk like that in this house?”
Dawn froze. “Sorry, Mom.”
Jordan gave her a sympathetic glance but coughed and straightened his features when Belinda glared at him.
“I think it’s time you went to your room,” Drake said, wandering over to the small group.
“He’s talking to us, right?” Brady whispered, and Jordan had to stifle his snort at hearing the hopeful note in Brady’s voice. Belinda caught Brady’s question, and her lips twitched.
“Night, Uncle Jordan,” Dawn intoned. “G’night, Brady. Will you still be here when I get up in the morning?”
“We’re not leaving until after lunch,” Jordan confirmed.
Marty brightened immediately. “Great. Then tomorrow I’ll let you play with my rat, Monty.” He left the room with Dawn trudging behind him, calling him a dweeb under her breath.
Jordan couldn’t repress his shudder. “Why on earth would I want to play with a rat?”
Brady’s eyes were bright. “Aw, rats are cute, especially when they run across your shoulders and try to climb onto your head.”
Belinda laughed. “I don’t think you’re helping, Brady.” She glanced down at their glasses. “I’ll bring you two some more champagne. After all, you’re celebrating too, right?” She walked toward the kitchen.
Brady’s eyes met Jordan’s. “I guess we are. Does today count as day one, or do we include the last couple of weeks too? Because you started kissing me a while back.”
“Only because you kissed me first,” Jordan retorted. Then they both started laughing.
Brady shifted closer. “I’m just looking forward to more of those kisses.” He leaned until his breath fluttered against Jordan’s ear. “Starting tonight.”
Jordan’s breathing hitched. “Don’t move,” he muttered. “Stay right where you are.”
Brady opened his eyes wide with alarm. “Why? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, but if you move, something’s going to be fairly obvious, so you can stay there until things… quiet down.”
Amusement danced in those gorgeous bronze-colored eyes. “Oh my.”
“And you can wipe that smirk off your face. This is your fault, after all.”
“Mine?” Brady blinked. “All I did was mention kissing you.”
“It was the thought of what follows the kissing that got me… interested.”
Belinda returned, carrying a bottle of champagne. “Here you are.” She filled their glasses, then gave them both a warm smile. “I really am delighted you two are together—really together.” Her eyes twinkled. “Enjoy what’s left of the party. And if you want to… escape, I won’t mind.”
As she walked away to talk to her other guests, Brady gave Jordan a hopeful glance.
Jordan shook his head. “Patience is a virtue. Good things come to those who wait.” When Brady glanced at the clock above the fireplace, Jordan added, “And a watched pot never boils.”
Brady smirks. “You lost this argument as soon as you said ‘come.’ Now it’s all I can think about.” He grinned. “I had my patience tested once. I’m negative.”
Jordan shook his head. “Is this what I have to look forward to?”
Brady stilled, his hand on Jordan’s cheek. “This—and a lot of love. All I can give you.”
Jordan could live with that.
Chapter Nineteen
JORDAN closed the bedroom door behind them and heaved a sigh of relief. “That was one long party.”
Brady opened his eyes wide. “There was a party tonight?” He kicked off his shoes, Jordan doing the same.
Jordan laughed. “I’ll have to apologize to Drake and Belinda in the morning. We weren’t exactly very social, were we?” He and Brady had spent the evening talking, the laughter and chatter of the guests reduced to mere background noise. “I hope none of the other guests minded.”
Brady let out a chuckle and moved closer. “What guests? I only had eyes for you. Corny, I know, but accurate.” He put his arms around Jordan’s neck. “I could have spent the whole night just looking at you. I had to keep telling myself that this is really happening.”
Jordan could relate to that. “I know. I kept staring at you, thinking, ‘This is real. Brady loves me.’” Just saying the words filled him with a lightness that suffused his entire body.
Brady nodded slowly, his gaze locked on Jordan’s. “I do.” He smiled. “Do I need to say it again?”
“Only if I get to say it back to you.”
Brady leaned in until his lips were almost touching Jordan’s. “I love yo
u,” he whispered.
“God, I love you too.” Jordan closed the minute distance between them, fusing their lips in a kiss that sent a slow, burgeoning wave of desire through him. His hands were on Brady’s back, moving over him unhurriedly, reacquainting himself with the feel of Brady’s body against his.
Brady fed him a soft sigh, stroking Jordan’s nape. “How about we pick up from where we left off?”
Jordan smiled. “Hmm. Remind me. Where was that?”
Brady kissed him, then pulled back a little and glanced toward the bed. “Something about… making love?” He took hold of Jordan’s hand and led him across the floor. “Because right now, I can’t think of anything I’d rather do.”
Jordan eased him out of the jacket, then placed it on the armchair beside the bed. “Now, where were we?”
Brady grinned and pushed him back onto the bed, laughing as Jordan gave an involuntary bounce. He covered Jordan with his body, his hands stroking Jordan’s head. “Here, I believe.” And then he claimed Jordan’s mouth in a lingering kiss, exploring him, cradling Jordan’s head as though he was something precious.
God, he can kiss. Jordan could envisage spending whole Sunday afternoons with Brady, curled up together on the couch, doing nothing but kissing and caressing.
He pulled Brady’s shirt free of his pants and slipped one hand under the fabric to stroke his warm skin, while he cupped the back of Brady’s head. Brady broke the kiss to look him in the eyes, as if he was reassuring himself that this was happening, before taking Jordan’s mouth in a kiss that made his toes curl. Jordan sought his neck, kissing and sucking the soft skin, and Brady let out a low moan that reverberated through him.
Gently, Jordan eased him onto his back, then tugged at the shirt, baring Brady’s torso. He planted one kiss there before shifting to lie on top of Brady, his thigh between Brady’s legs, his hands in constant motion as he stroked and caressed him.
Brady threw an arm around Jordan’s neck, pulling him deeper into a kiss, then slid his hand lower to unbutton Jordan’s shirt. As each inch of skin was revealed, Brady stroked it, trailing his fingertips, exploring him.
Jordan smiled against Brady’s lips. “Let me,” he whispered, sitting up to remove his shirt. He loved this slow dance, the heat building between them, the way Brady never stopped touching him as he undressed, the desire in Brady’s eyes as Jordan leisurely unbuttoned his shirt. Jordan bent over to kiss Brady’s newly bared chest, loving how Brady arched up into his touch, biting his lip as Jordan flicked his nipple with his tongue.
Brady pulled himself into a sitting position to free his arms from his shirt, then wrapped them around Jordan’s waist, burying his face in Jordan’s chest. Jordan cupped his cheeks and tilted Brady’s head to kiss him, pausing to stare at him in awe. He wanted to burn every second of this into his memory. Gently, he lowered them both back down onto the comforter, their lips meeting once more, Brady’s chest warm against his.
Jordan broke the kiss and rubbed across Brady’s belly with a firm hand before moving lower to unfasten his belt. Brady lifted his head to watch as Jordan unzipped his pants, then cupped his nape and pulled him down into a kiss while Jordan slowly rubbed his stiffening dick through his briefs.
Jordan had no intentions of hurrying. He wanted this to last.
BRADY moaned with pleasure as Jordan slipped his fingers beneath the waistband of his briefs, lightly brushing them against the head of his cock. “Why on earth… did I choose to… wear briefs today of all days?” He buried his face in Jordan’s neck as Jordan rubbed his thumb under the head, then chuckled as Jordan trailed the tips of his fingers over his belly. He caught his breath as Jordan sat up to tug Brady’s pants down, revealing one asscheek, then bent over to kiss it, stroke it, rake across it with his fingernails.
“God, yes,” Brady hissed.
Jordan took the hint and got off the bed. He lifted Brady’s legs into the air and removed his pants, socks, and briefs. Brady stroked his dick as Jordan undressed, but the sight of Jordan’s erection, clearly visible as it pressed against his boxer shorts, was too much to ignore. Brady sat up, grasped the waistband, and slid them down over Jordan’s hips, coming face-to-face with a thick, solid cock that rose up as if to greet him.
Like Brady could resist that.
He wrapped one hand around Jordan’s shaft, and in one swift move, took him deep, squeezing and stroking Jordan’s ass as he worshipped him with his lips and tongue.
Jordan groaned, his hands resting on Brady’s head as he thrust gently. He let out a gasp. “Let me take off my socks before we go much further.”
Brady chuckled around his cock and pulled free. He shifted higher on the bed until his head hit the pillows, knees bent, loving the sight of Jordan crawling up to lie between his spread legs. When Jordan kissed his neck, his mouth, his chest, Brady was in heaven. Jordan’s scent surrounded him, and the heat of his dick against Brady’s sent a shiver of anticipation through him.
“Supplies?” he murmured.
Jordan grinned. “Under the pillow.”
Brady had to laugh. “I love a man with initiative.” Then all such practicalities were swept away when Jordan shifted lower to lap the head of Brady’s cock, his hand cupping and gently squeezing Brady’s balls. When Jordan rubbed over his pucker with a single finger, that was all the impetus Brady needed to grab the lube. He placed the tube and the condom within Jordan’s reach.
Jordan snickered. “I take it that’s a hint.”
Any response Brady might have made was lost when Jordan rolled his ass up off the bed and kissed his way down Brady’s shaft and over his sac before spreading his cheeks and teasing Brady’s hole with his tongue.
“Oh God,” Brady croaked, placing his hands firmly on Jordan’s head, keeping him there. He couldn’t hold back the noises that poured from his lips as Jordan continued to worship his ass. Brady covered Jordan’s hands with his own, craning his neck to watch, his whole body tingling as if every cell responded to Jordan’s touch.
God, could this be any hotter?
A moment later he had his answer when Jordan slid a finger into his ass. Brady moaned as Jordan alternated between tongue and fingers before swallowing his dick. Brady pushed up off the bed, seeking more of that heat. Jordan’s mouth on his dick and his finger in Brady’s ass were a heady combination.
When it all came to an end, he wanted to groan in frustration. Then he realized two could play at that game.
Brady pushed Jordan onto his back, heaved his ass up off the bed until Jordan was almost folded in half, then speared that inviting tight hole with his tongue. Jordan clutched his knees and groaned as Brady enjoyed every second of the rim job he’d been waiting for all day. When Jordan was nice and loose, Brady grabbed the lube, slicked up a couple of fingers, and slowly pressed them into Jordan’s hot channel.
“So who gets to go first?” he said with a grin, moving his fingers in and out of Jordan’s now-slick ass.
“Who fucking cares as long as one of us makes a decision?” Jordan said with a groan. He reached for the condom and tore it open.
Brady made his mind up. He dropped onto his back, grabbed his knees, and pulled them up toward his chest. “In me,” he begged.
Jordan nodded, and Brady held his breath at the sight of Jordan covering his shaft. Brady was on fire, unable to take his eyes off the heavy cock that was about to enter him. He shivered at the first touch of Jordan’s dick against his body. Jordan pushed—slowly, so slowly—until Brady was full to the brim.
God, he’d missed this. But what made it all the more exquisite was that this was Jordan, and this moment had been years in the making.
Fully seated, Jordan lowered himself until their lips met in a tender kiss. Brady curled one arm around his neck, holding on to him as the kiss spun out, and Jordan stilled inside him. Then he began to move, a gently rocking motion while they kissed, Brady’s hand on his nape, the other between their bodies as he languidly worked his shaft. His breathing quicke
ned, keeping pace with Jordan’s thrusts as he, too, picked up speed. Jordan hooked his arms under Brady’s knees and buried his shaft to the hilt, their kisses growing in urgency.
Jordan slowed down, propping himself up on his hands to gaze at Brady, lips parted, his dark eyes locked on Brady’s, his hips moving in a gentler rhythm. Brady nodded, content with the change in pace, anxious to hold on to the delicious sensations that rippled through his body for as long as possible. It wasn’t long, however, before he wanted more.
Brady reached down to grab Jordan’s ass with both hands, pulling him tight against his body. Jordan got the message and moved faster, until he was driving his cock deep and Brady was fighting hard not to cry out loud with sheer joy as Jordan propelled them both closer to orgasm. He buried his face once more in Brady’s neck, hips snapping, flesh slapping against flesh.
“Close,” Jordan gasped out before kneeling up and gripping Brady’s shoulders. He brought their foreheads together, their breath mingling as he held on, sliding in and out with short, rapid thrusts, until Brady knew he was about to come. Brady tugged hard on his dick, unable to hold back his cries as wave upon wave of pleasure broke over him, aware of nothing but the warmth that coated his belly, the throb of Jordan’s dick inside him, and Jordan’s lips against his.
JORDAN closed the distance between them, their bodies slick with perspiration as he held Brady against his damp chest, his hand tenderly cupping Brady’s face as they kissed, aware of his heartbeat returning to near normal. Brady’s breathing had slowed too, his eyes shut, his hands moving in unhurried, deliberate circles on Jordan’s back. Neither of them spoke—words would have been superfluous—and the minutes ticked by in comfortable silence.