Chapter Twenty-Four

Fighter eased the door to the kids’ room closed and found Brick leaning against the wall nearby as if he didn’t have a care in the world. It was nuts to think that Brick liked being here instead of wherever he called home. Then a thought occurred that maybe…Brick didn’t like being home.

Brick opened his arms and Fighter walked right into them. The bigger man’s head dipped and Brick drew in a deep breath. Fighter sank against the wall of muscle that was Brick’s chest and drew in the faint smell of cologne. It smelled expensive, yet Brick wore jeans and a pull over. He rarely dressed up and that intrigued Fighter. He nuzzled into Brick’s neck and the man’s arms tightened around him.

“Playing with fire,” Brick muttered.

“Mmm,” Fighter said huskily and kissed beneath Brick’s jaw.

Brick bent down, scooped his hands beneath his ass cheeks, and lifted him. Surprised, Fighter did the only thing he could think of, he hung on to the man’s neck and wrapped his legs around Brick’s waist. Carried into his room, he expected to be placed down, but Brick backed him up against the wall and quietly closed the door.

The power in the man’s grip was so damned sexy, it stole Fighter’s breath.

“We can take things slow,” Brick muttered against his neck.

“To hell with taking things slow,” Fighter said with a grunt. He slipped his hands up the outside of Brick’s arms to his shoulders and neck. Once he had Brick’s neck cupped, he leaned in and pressed his mouth to Brick’s parted lips. He gave Brick every chance to call this off, but by the way Brick had carried him in here and held him against the wall, Brick was all in.

Fighter nibbled and nipped at Brick’s lips until they were red and wet, and the man let out a slow groan. The need in the kiss built, and it wasn’t slow. He’d thought about taking things slow like Brick had offered, but to hell with that.

Brick gently caressed his tongue against his and a soft moan came from his throat. He sent his own tongue swirling before he roamed his hands upward to sink his fingers in Brick’s hair. Air was the only reason he pulled back with his chest heaving. Unable to resist after a few moments, he returned to kissing Brick and this time, he sent his hips grinding against Brick’s blue jean-covered dick. They ground together, with him gyrating down and Brick thrusting up.

The grinding went on until Fighter, panting, couldn’t stand it and pulled slightly back from the kiss. Brick’s hands squeezed his ass.

“Do you have condoms and lube?” Brick asked.

“I just happened to purchase a few last week,” Fighter said with a smile, his fingers gripping Brick’s hair.

“Man after my own heart.”

“You bet I am,” he whispered, tracing over the ink that covered Brick’s neck. “I want to see it.”

“And you will,” Brick promised him and slowly let his feet touch the ground.

He laughed on a moan and then grabbed for Brick’s hand. Without a word, he pointed to the couch and Brick sprang into action, tossing pillows and pulling the sleeper bed out.

Fighter squeaked and then laughed when Brick plucked him up and tossed him down on the bed. The springs were hard through the mattress, but Fighter didn’t give a crap. He yanked Brick down. The man’s hands snaked beneath the edge of his t-shirt and pulled. Fighter lifted up and pulled the shirt off over his head. Brick did the same, and Fighter was faced with a wall of tattooed muscle. It was sexy as fuck and he traced them with his hands first and then his tongue until Brick was groaning beneath his touch.

Fighter wondered how active Brick’s sex life was. As for himself, he’d only had two boyfriends and one hook-up. He was sure it was different for Brick. The man was gorgeous and wealthy and he saw people rubberneck gawking when he’d been out and about with Brick. He felt nervous suddenly and Brick must have sensed something because the man cupped the back of his head and drew him up into a mind-numbing kiss.

“You have a lot of ink,” Fighter moaned into Brick’s mouth, running his hands over the man’s smooth chest.

Brick lifted his head and spoke between kisses to his jaw and neck.

“Most of it was done while in the military. Some at home.”

“I don’t have a tattoo, but I want one,” he breathed when Brick came at his mouth again.

“I’ll take you.”

His cock was so hard, he couldn’t sit right in his pants and he fumbled with the button on Brick’s jeans.

“Wait, I’ll help.” Brick brushed his hands away, but Fighter was rolling off the bed. Surprised, Brick sat up and watched him. Dropping his hands to his pants, Fighter flipped open the button and pulled slightly on the zipper. Brick’s eyes turned the color of slate gray, so warm that Fighter caught his breath.

Brick prowled up and off of the bed, and Fighter darted around to the other side.

“Where are you going?”

“Nowhere. I just want to watch the show,” Fighter teased, licking his bottom lip and flipping open his jeans. Brick’s smile matched his and the man’s eyes gleamed.

Slowly, Brick popped open his jeans and unzipped them. A mouthwatering dark trail of hair ended at Brick’s briefs.

His attention was caught and held when Brick shoved his jeans and briefs down in one swoop and kicked them away. Fighter yanked at his zipper and it refused to budge, he glanced down and worked at it. The heat of Brick’s naked body when the man closed in on him drew a long shiver from him and goosebumps emerged over his skin.

Blunt fingers brushed his aside and Brick took over unzipping his jeans while holding his gaze. Hard fingers curled inside his briefs and his pants and underwear were pushed down. Fighter did a small dance until he could kick them away and then he stood bare in front of Brick.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” Brick’s voice was almost guttural and Fighter’s blood rushed to his dick. The hard hand that suddenly cupped the back of his neck was possessive and when Brick’s mouth took his in a hungry kiss, Fighter lost his ability to think. Minutes went by with them devouring each other until Fighter pulled back, gasping for air.

“Brick,” he moaned, gripping at Brick’s shoulders.

Brick leaned in and licked at his bottom lip, and then pushed him back on the bed. Rather than join him, Brick stood, sweeping his eyes over him. He stilled beneath the man’s heated gaze and then ran his hand down to trail his fingers through the dark hair just above his aching cock. Brick’s light-colored eyes landed on his dick and precome dripped from the head. Fighter collected it and smeared it over the crown.

“Where’s the fucking supplies,” Brick said in a voice that was strained with need.

“End table drawer.”

Brick yanked the drawer open and tossed a strip of eight condoms and the bottle of lube on the bed before he climbed up and over him on his hands and knees.

Brick was fucking stunning. The man was big in every way imaginable, and Fighter closed his hand around the engorged cock between Brick’s legs and wondered how he was going to fit.

The tattoos drew his eyes again and his other hand caressed Brick’s sleek chest.

“Eight?”

“What?” Brick croaked as his hips slowly thrust his dick through his hand.

Fighter squeezed him tighter. “Eight condoms?”

Brick chuckled but it was a helpless sound of need.

“I’m hopeful.”

Fighter laughed softly and snaked his free hand up and around the back of Brick’s neck to draw him down.