#Junkie (GearShark #1)

My chest heaved and my eyes drifted closed.

Neither of us spoke as he grasped my cock and pulled it up so it was straight up and down. His hand gentled and caressed the smooth skin stretching over my rod. God, it felt so good. To have his hands on me like this.

Slowly, he jerked me, starting at the base and moving upward. When he got to the head, he circled just below it with his thumb and finger and gave it a squeeze. My body shuddered, and he flicked the pad of his thumb over the most sensitive spot.

“Fuck,” I ground out.

“I like it there, too,” he whispered.

His voice called to me, and I opened my eyes. We stared at each other while he continued to jerk me in slow, rhythmic movements.

His free hand grabbed the base of my rod and held it in place, and I lay there staring into his blue gaze as both his hands worked me.

Beads of moisture wept from my tip, and I knew right away when his hand slid over it, because he paused. “You like this.”

“God, Drew. You have no fucking idea,” I ground out.

His eyes moved down, I felt him looking at the pre-cum coating my tip. I had a moment to wonder if maybe it would make him back away before the pad of his thumb pressed down on the top of my head and smeared it all around, coating the swollen, extremely sensitive skin with silky-soft lubricant.

I whispered some shit that made no sense and thrust my hips up toward him.

Using his hand, he dragged some of that wetness down over my shaft and pumped me again.

“I can’t hold it.” I panted. “I have to come.”

“Let me see,” he replied, dragging his hand up to hit the magic spot.

My cock started pulsing, and I threw my head back and moaned. Hot liquid exploded out of me and plastered the shirt I was wearing. White light exploded behind my eyes, and my entire body released about twenty tons of pressure.

I shuddered and pulsed through the orgasm, and Drew stayed with me through it all. He stroked me even as I shuddered and worked me even after I stopped. I collapsed against the cushions, so spent I was totally boneless.

“Damn,” Drew whispered, and I felt the gentle touch of his fingers over my sack, kneading it gently as it relaxed along with my cock.

I made a sound that could only be described as a purr and half smiled. “That feels good.”

“I wasn’t sure how I’d feel,” he said, cautious.

My lids were heavy, but I forced them open. “And?” I asked.

“I thought it would be weird, you know?”

I nodded. He was still playing with my sack, almost like an afterthought. It was because of that I wasn’t nervous.

“I like the way you feel.” He went on. “I liked the way your dick felt pulsing in my hand. I watched you explode all over your chest. I made you do that,” he whispered.

I smiled lazily. “Yeah, this is all your fucking fault.”

And if he kept talking like that, I was going to explode all over again.

“Did you… like it?”

I laughed. “Best hand job I ever had.”

“What did it feel like?” The desire and curiosity in his voice was clear. My heart rate spiked.

I glanced down at his center, noting he was sporting some wood of his own. It made me want to fist pump in the air, because dicks never lied. If he was hard, it was because he was turned on.

“I’ll show you,” I rumbled. “Do you want me to?”

He nodded.





Drew

He took his shirt off.

I was glad he made such a mess of himself, because now I could stare at his chest.

I liked looking at Trent. I liked knowing I was the reason he made a mess of himself.

No, I more than liked it. It made me feel like I was sitting at the start line of a race. The familiar tingle of adrenaline pulsed in my limbs, and the anticipation of his touch made me almost giddy.

Now I understood why I tried to hide from these feelings. Why they scared me so much.

I felt about Trent the way I felt about racing. Just as racing and cars were a part of me, so was he.

People said I had motor oil in my veins. I knew I bled just like every other man.

But I bled for Trent.

I drove into this town and almost immediately felt like this was where I belonged. It wasn’t just because of racing or my sister.

It was him.

Now that I admitted it, I wondered how the hell I was ever able not to.

I sank into the couch and put my feet flat on the floor. Trent was close by. The smooth look of his skin made me want to touch him. His athletic body excited me; his muscles held so much restrained power. There was nothing slight about T, nothing at all.

I stared at his wide shoulders, taking in their bulk, and remembered how fast he’d moved, how easily he maneuvered himself between me and the asshole at the bar earlier tonight. He used his size to his advantage, as a shield for me. Not many men could do that. I wasn’t a small man on my own.

But T could.

He could safeguard me in a way no one else could. He could also make me vulnerable in a way no one else could.

It was a sobering thought.

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