Just like they’d done last night. Market Garden had been dead, so they’d gone home early, had some of that long, drawn-out sex Tristan had come to love since he’d started hooking up with Jared, and then cuddled up for the rest of the night.
Tristan’s jaw started to ache, and he realised he’d been clenching his teeth. Watching Jared and Rolex while thinking about last night . . . he was going to drive himself insane. And whether he was thrilled about it or not, he was being paid for a service tonight. He was being paid very well for that service. Time to live up to it.
He moistened his lips. “I think you should suck his dick.” The words made his hackles go up, but also made his cock even harder.
Rolex and Jared broke the kiss and both looked at him through heavy-lidded eyes.
“Which one?” Rolex gestured at himself and Jared.
“You.” Tristan nodded towards Rolex. “Suck his.” Another nod, this time towards Jared.
Immediately, Rolex nudged Jared’s leg off his lap and moved to the floor between the seats. He started unbuttoning Jared’s leather pants, his hands moving quickly and not terribly steadily.
“We’re not far from the hotel,” he said over his shoulder.
“Then you’d better work fast, eh?”
Rolex’s hands moved more rapidly, fumbling with the top button and then the zip.
Over Rolex’s head, Tristan caught Jared’s glance. Jared was obviously turned on, his lips a little puffy from making out with Rolex and his pupils already blown, but there was something else in his expression. Just the slightest hint of a furrow between his eyebrows.
But as soon as Rolex went down on him, that expression vanished. Jared’s eyes closed, and he let his head fall back against the seat as he combed his fingers through Rolex’s neatly styled hair.
“Is he good at that?” Tristan asked, forcing the seductiveness into his voice. “What’s he like?”
Jared’s lips moved, but he made no sound, said nothing, though his fingers tightened in Rolex’s hair, and his hips pushed up from the seat. Sound of leather against leather. Hip bones visible. Trim, flat belly exposed as his T-shirt rode up. That tiny, vulnerable-looking belly button that Tristan had licked last night because Jared was ticklish there and Jared’s squirming made him laugh.
“He’s . . . he’s good.”
Tristan could see that—Rolex sure wasn’t shy about sucking cock, fitting almost all of Jared’s into his mouth on the downstroke, and he used his hand to add friction.
“Come on. Good?” Tristan moistened his lips and leaned forwards, elbows on his knees. “Good means nothing.” I’ll give you better than good. “Is he going to make you come?”
Jared nodded, getting seriously breathless now. He wasn’t faking it, either. Jared could fake it well enough to satisfy the most mediocre john, but he obviously enjoyed what Rolex was doing, and he wasn’t going to last much longer. He normally had more stamina, would be more controlled, but he was throwing himself into this at full speed. “If he k-keeps it up like that, I’m gonna blow.”
Tristan changed seats, sitting beside Jared, eyes on the john, who, yeah, glanced at him over Jared’s dick between his lips. Tristan grinned. “You going to let him?”
Rolex made a low sound, a groan that was almost a growl, and doubled his efforts on Jared’s cock. Jared whimpered softly, and Tristan couldn’t resist—he slid a hand around the side of Jared’s neck and kissed him. Jared grabbed his shoulder, holding on as he kissed Tristan back. He was breathless, his skin hot, and he wasn’t doing that gentle, teasing kiss that drove Tristan out of his mind. He was demanding, forceful, making Tristan wonder if he’d wind up coming himself before the car stopped.
Jared tensed. He pulled in a breath through his nose, and his grip on Tristan’s shoulder was almost painful, fingers twitching and digging in harder. Though his eyes were closed, Tristan could feel Jared’s body moving beside him, hips thrusting as much as this position would allow, legs shaking.
The car slowed a little, and must have turned because everyone’s center of gravity shifted slightly. The motion pushed Jared against Tristan, and then he tensed again, and shuddered, and Tristan kissed him even more aggressively because it was the only way to keep his mind off how fucking jealous he was that it was Rolex, not him, tasting Jared’s orgasm.
The car stopped.
Tristan broke the kiss. Jared slumped back against the seat with a soft, satisfied sigh.
At Jared’s feet, Rolex sat up, the gold watch beneath his sleeve catching the light as he wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. A hint of sweat glittered at his hairline, and like Jared, he was out of breath.
“We’re here.” He rested a hand on Jared’s knee. “Let’s go inside.”
They’d just arrived at the hotel, and Jared could barely stand up. Making out with Tristan while getting his dick sucked? There were few things in the world that could make him come harder than that. And Rolex’s oral skills on their own were nothing to sneeze at either.
He stepped out of the limo behind Tristan and Rolex, pausing to get his legs under him. Tristan glanced at him, another odd expression on his face.