Warning: This love story may overheat readers or the devices used to read it. Explicit male/male sex scenes involving extra penetration, toys, and spanking.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Collision Course:
They passed a dark storefront, deep inset door, and Aaron grabbed Joey's hand, pulling him off the street. “What about here?"
Joey leaned back against the opposite wall and shrugged again. “Go ahead.” His fingers undid the top button on his jeans.
Aaron almost called his bluff—certain it was a bluff—even taking last night into consideration, Joey didn't seem like the type for public sex. And this was too public even for Aaron. Especially considering that anyone from the bar might walk past and see him on his knees which—no.
"C'mon.” He pulled Joey onto the sidewalk again. Another block and the bike gleamed even in the humid night. “Ever ridden before?"
"Yes.” Joey's voice was soft.
"Do not make me put my bike down."
"I won't. I have—Shit, a Ducati Sport Classic?"
Joey's voice had the proper reverence. So what if even used the bike had cost more than any car Aaron'd had to take the kids to doctor's appointments. The fucker was gorgeous and Aaron knew it. And so did Joey.
He unlocked the back case, took out his helmet and a towel, and began to wipe down the seat. Joey was still staring.
"It won't bite.” Aaron picked up his helmet.
"God, I'd love to, but you only have one helmet."
"No law in Florida.” He tossed Joey the helmet and straddled the bike.
Joey pulled the helmet on and climbed behind him, easy, settled. Aaron snuck a backward glance. Joey's hands rested on his thighs, relaxed. After tightening the band holding his hair off his face, Aaron started the bike.
"Are you sure you don't need the helmet?"
"You promise not to dump us and we'll be fine,” Aaron yelled back. “Besides, if my brains go splat the kids get lots of insurance money."
"Kids?"
Aaron laughed at the shock in Joey's voice as they roared away from the curb. He was cautious on the first corner, but Joey leaned with him and the bike, not fighting it at all. He took the next one faster. Smooth sway, Joey following the lean like he was part of the bike. They stopped at a light. Four minutes, and they'd be on his bed and fucking, but he wanted to keep sharing this with Joey. The kids hadn't liked to ride, even Dylan at his most rebellious never tried to steal the old bike Aaron'd had then. Tonight he might eat some bugs without the face shield, but ... He cranked his head around. “Want to ride some more?"
"Yeah."
The bed would be there when they got there. Reaching back for Joey's hand, Aaron slid it around his waist. “Hold on."
Joey wrapped both his arms around Aaron, under his jacket, a band of hard heat against the thin cotton of his T-shirt. The bike flew up the ramp, and Aaron took them over the river, Joey's wow just audible over the wind in his ears. Jax was pretty at night, the bridges that crisscrossed the St. John's lit up with yellow, blue and purple lights. Dark hid the poor parts, the rundown industrial sections, the graffitied, trashed parks.
Aaron zipped up Route 17, gunning the bike through the curves along the inlet, Joey pressed hot and tight to his back. It might as well have been public sex, the buzz of the bike on his balls, five feet seven inches of hot man draped over his back, teasing fingers stroking from his nipples to his navel on the straightaways. Aaron wasn't the only one hard when he turned off down a side road into the state park. The dick poking his back was substantial enough to be out of proportion on Joey's frame. Sue him, Aaron had been more interested in the heat of that ass and mouth last night.
After Aaron kicked the stand down, Joey swung off, stepping away into the dunes. With cloud cover, it was dark enough out here that after a few seconds Joey was almost invisible, even with his Tweety Bird hair.
Aaron followed. Joey stopped and flashed white teeth as he smiled. “Here?"
"I'm not too big on sand rash. I'll take you back to my bed."
Joey was smiling as if he knew something Aaron didn't. Snagging the belt loop of his jeans, Joey tugged him close again. “Really want to wait?"
Aaron did. He wanted Joey in his bed, stretched out so he could get at every bit of skin, drag those husky moans out of his throat, fall asleep to the smell of sex and sweat on Joey's warm skin, wake up and bury his morning hard-on back in Joey's tight ass.
But Joey's hand was already skimming the front of Aaron's jeans, stroking him through the denim, and there was no way he could make it back to South Jacksonville without getting off first. Especially not when Joey increased the pressure before popping open Aaron's fly. Despite the wind on the long ride, Joey's hand was hot when it latched onto Aaron's dick, milking a drop of precome from the tip to slick the way back down to his balls. Aaron tipped his head back and let Joey work him for a minute, anticipation tingling through every nerve. Joey's hand was hard-edged and rough, maybe from surfing since he sure as hell didn't get those calluses fucking up people's lives with social-service paperwork. The calloused thumb worked over the head before Joey jacked him, quick, strong tugs that had Aaron rocking his hips.
He wanted Joey's mouth again, but last night had been about taking. Tonight he wanted Joey to give it. He leaned in and kissed him, savoring the textures of Joey's mouth, the rasp on the top, the glide on the bottom and the flick of the metal bar. When Aaron lifted his head, Joey gave a half smile and dropped smoothly to his knees on the grassy sand.
As Joey took the tip of Aaron's dick between slick lips, Aaron met his dark gaze and whispered, “I'll do you so good when we get back, swear it. Eat you ‘til you come."
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