The Hot Rod
The car show at the convention finds them admiring the same cherry ride, though, and while they’re lingering over the car, they can’t help but take another look at each other as well. The fact that making love on the hood of just such a car has always been a shared fantasy finds them considering one last roll in the hay.
Can the sweetest car at the convention lead to a rekindling of their romance?
All Romance Ebooks
Craig slid forward on the hood until the callused hands slipped around Jon's neck. "Come on, lover. I've been waking with your name on my lips ever since they brought these cars in here on Tuesday."
"You have?" His hands wrapped around Craig's waist, drawing them closer together.
Craig wriggled against him, leaving him in no doubt that the man wanted him. "I have. And then tonight here you are. Imagine that."
"Yeah. Go figure." He was the one who leaned in this time, brushing their lips together.
Craig pushed a soft noise into his mouth, lips opening to him, tongue slipping just barely into his mouth before retreating again. Jon pressed in, licking and lapping at Craig lips, pushing in for a deeper taste. Craig opened up for him, fingers playing with his collar.
With the Eagles playing on the boombox and Craig rubbing up against him, it was just like old times. He let himself relax, stop worrying, and relearned the things that made Craig shiver. Like when his tongue slid across the roof of Craig's mouth or when his thumb stroked that spot right at the base of Craig's skull. Easy and exciting all at once, kissing Craig was like going home at Thanksgiving and getting that cranberry salad of Gran's -- familiar, but rare, fresh. So good.
Craig's hands worked on his buttons, fingers slowly undoing each one and teasing the skin he exposed. It made him shiver, made his nipples draw up and his cock throb, trying to push out of his slacks and briefs.
"You still fold your clothes when you take them off, Jon?" Craig was tugging his shirt out of his pants.
"Yeah. You still sleep with your fine ass in the air?" He kissed Craig's temple, jaw.
"I guess." Craig shrugged a little. "Don't have anyone to tease me about it these days..."
"No? What about that Ben guy?"
Craig snorted. "Turned out you were right. As usual. All he wanted was to fuck around for a while and then he was onto the next new thing." Craig pushed his shirt off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. "It's going to get wrinkled."
"You'll have to pay my dry cleaning bill." Jon winked, chuckling at himself as he fought not to bend down and pick it up.
"Oh, I think you'll make that worth my while." Craig was looking at him like he was the main course at a buffet. Warm hands slid over his chest, long sweeping motions, Craig mapping him. He'd missed that touch and he moaned, pushing into it.
Craig's moan matched his. "Oh, man, you're ripped. I still jack off to fantasies of this chest moving over me."
"Oh, baby..." He nipped Craig's earlobe, whispering, aching. "Miss our early morning showers, after work, fucking against the tiles."
Groaning, Craig jerked against him, hands sliding down his chest, fingers tweaking his nipples. "Fuck yes."
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