Locked (PresLocke Series Book 2) (17 page)

* * *
 

THERE WERE SO many things I liked about the man clambering off my lap, but when he held out a hand to me with a bright smile, this side of him was fast becoming my favorite. It was clear that here, Dylan was completely at home, and that ease and simple acceptance was something I’d longed for my entire life. It was funny that in a little more than twenty minutes I felt more myself than I ever had before, and it was all to do with the man whose fingers were now wrapping around mine as I pushed off the couch and got to my feet.

“Do I look stupid to you?” I asked as I took a step closer to Dylan only to have him back away from me and tug on my hand.

“No. You look…really,
really
sexy sitting in my living room. But,” he said, raising a hand, “I will not be distracted by all that Locke charm.”

“Oh you won’t, huh?”

Dylan continued backward pulling me along with him. His eyes were sparkling as he ran them over me. “Nope. You see, there’s something I want more than anything else in the world right now.”

Playing along, I followed him down the hall and past two doors. Then he stopped at the final one on the left, which was shut, and I couldn’t help myself from putting my hands on either side of his head and ghosting my lips over the top of his. “And what’s that?” I whispered.

Dylan sucked in a shaky breath, and as his eyelids lowered to half-mast, he wasn’t the only one left breathless.
Christ.
“Pretty boy” was what Derek had called him, and I remembered Russ using the term once also, and as we stood there in his hall, which had slivers of sunlight slipping through the windows, I was taken away by just how striking Dylan was.
 

Before I could comment, or crush his mouth under mine, though, the tease slipped away and into the room behind him. As I took a step inside, he continued to back up and nod. “Yes…see. This right here,” he said, shaking his head as if in disbelief. “This is what I wanted. Ace Locke standing in
my
bedroom.”

I glanced at my surroundings, a neatly made queen-size pushed up against the far wall, a window cracked enough to let in the breezy beach air, and on the far side opposite the bed was a dresser with a large TV. But that wasn’t what caught and held my attention. No, that honor went to the tall bookcase beside it, which housed an extensive DVD collection.

Okay, Daydream, let’s see just how big a fan you are.

The first thing I noticed when I walked closer to the bookcase was that they were all in alphabetical order, same as my collection back home. I wanted to make a joke about us being anal, but then I figured that punch line was a little too easy, so I scanned through the titles instead, and the farther I went, the bigger my eyes got.
Fuck me
, he wasn’t kidding.

When I looked up at Dylan, he just shrugged as if to say
told you
, and his expression was so unapologetic it sent a sharp spike of lust straight to my dick. Glancing back at the collection, I swept over the titles until I found the one I was looking for, and then I pulled out the DVD case and held it up.

“Mmm,
Original Bourbon
, one of my favorites.” Dylan nodded in approval as I sauntered toward him.
 

“I bet I can guess your favorite scene,” I told him.

“Oh, you think so, huh?”

I pushed Dylan back onto the bed, and as he laughed in surprise, I crawled up between his thighs and hovered over him, placing my hands on either side of his head.
 

“This position does seem vaguely familiar,” he said, smiling broadly as my hips grazed against his. “There was just one major difference—it wasn’t you on top.”

“Ah, that’s right.” Rolling us over so Dylan was now on top, I said, “What else?”

“Well, I’m pretty sure she wasn’t facing you.”

“No?”

Dylan shook his head and stood up, then he turned around and straddled my hips again. Looking over his shoulder, he said, “Now all we’re missing is that bottle of High Horse bourbon.”

“Okay, now you’re starting to freak me out.”

“Liar.”

“You’re right,” I said, running my hands up his legs. “I must be a sick fuck that this is hot right now. But the thought of you lying in bed, memorizing every detail…damn.”

“It’s no different than you fucking yourself to the thought of my pictures, right?” He pulled the zipper of my jeans down, and when his palm ran over the erection straining against my briefs, I arched my hips up into his touch.
 

“Right?” he asked again, and aimed a look over his shoulder, waiting for my response.

“God yes.”

When he turned his attention back to what he was doing, I couldn’t have kept my hands to myself if I tried. I ran them over his hips and then up his sides as he slipped his fingers beneath the elastic of my briefs, and when they grazed over the swollen head of my cock, I groaned.

“Oh fuck. Do that again,” I said, and Dylan was quick to comply, but this time he trailed his wet fingers down the underside of my shaft, shoving my briefs aside. As my dick sprang free, he wrapped his hand around my length and gave a firm tug. I dug my fingers into his thighs as Dylan continued to tease and torment the ache throbbing between my legs, and I widened them to give him better access. My breathing was labored as he slid his fist up and down my length from root to tip, and it was all I could do not to flip him back over, rip his pants off, and shove inside of him.
 

“Dylan,” I said, when he slipped a hand down between my legs to cup my balls.
 

“
Ace…
” the flirt astride me moaned, and then canted his hips toward what his hands were doing, giving me a perfect view of his upturned ass as he began to rock over the top of me.

I gripped him around the waist and shut my eyes as I halted his wayward hips and said in a gruff voice, “Get undressed.”

Dylan glanced back at me, and the arousal was stamped all over his features. Flushed cheeks, dilated eyes, and wet, plump lips that had been sucked between his teeth as he’d teased me, and the look of him just made me even more turned on. He climbed off me and stood by the bed, and as I went to sit up and do the same, he shook his head and placed a palm on my chest, shoving me to my back.
 

“You stay like that, hotshot,” he said, and whipped his shirt over his head and then went for the button of his shorts. “Flat on your back, pants undone, cock waiting for me to suck…in
my
bed.”

“I do like this bed. Nice and firm…” My words trailed off when Dylan’s clothes came off and something
else
nice and firm caught my attention. As he put one knee on the bed, I reached down to grip the base of my cock and said, “Stop.”

“Stop?”

“I know you’re all about accuracy in these films, but I think this particular scene needs…a different position.”

One of Dylan’s eyebrows shot up. “And what position is that?”

“I want you to sit on my fucking face.”

A sensual grin crossed those pouty lips, and he took his knee off the mattress. Walking up to the head of the bed, he leaned down and gave me an earth-shattering kiss that told me exactly what he thought of my idea. Then he climbed up and over me, positioning himself so that not only did his mouth have easy access to my cock, but I had a perfect view of everything I wanted to lick and suck.
 

As Dylan’s hot mouth came down over my dick, I craned my head up and swiped my tongue over his sac. He reared back on me and I took hold of his hips, keeping him in place as I sucked the hot skin between my lips and Dylan continued to suck on my cock like it was a Popsicle.

“Oh, Dylan,” I growled, and tore my lips from him. My head flopped back on the bed when his hands smoothed down my thighs, and then he lowered his body slightly to rub his erection against my shirt. He moaned around my thick length at the friction and then did it again, getting off on the feel of the material brushing against his sensitive flesh before he shoved back, and I took in the firm ass cheeks hovering above my face. I drew in a ragged breath, trying to get myself under control, and then brought my hands up to plump and spread him apart so I could look at everything he was offering.
Hell
, this wasn’t gonna last long, and I could only hope the warm moisture now seeping through my shirt was an indication that he was as close to completion as I was.

With a soothing stroke of my hand over his bare ass, I raised my fingers to my lips and sucked them inside, getting them nice and wet before I drew a slippery path down his crack. When Dylan tensed, and the fingers on my thighs tightened, I bucked up, shoving between his lips at the same time I pushed the tip of my finger against his pucker.
 

Dylan raised his head then and demanded, “More.” But I was right there sliding my finger deep inside him as he took me between his lips once again. It didn’t take long after that. The heat of his mouth surrounding me, the visual of my finger, first one, and then two, disappearing into his tight hole, and the deliciously depraved sounds of him sucking and whimpering around my dick had my orgasm shooting out of me and into the warmth of Dylan’s mouth. As he swallowed greedily, my fingers bumped against his prostate and his hips jerked once, twice, and then he was coming all over my shirt in a hot, sticky
rush. Our breaths were labored as Dylan turned himself around and lay on top of me, licking his lips.
 

“Fucking delicious,” he said. “Better than the movie.”

I chuckled as he dipped his head down for a soft kiss that I felt all the way to my toes, and I loved that I could taste myself on his tongue. Loved that he wanted any and every part of me he could have inside him. I reached up to push a strand of hair off his forehead, and he leaned into my touch.
 

“Dylan,” I said softly, running my fingers through his hair.
 

“Hmm?”

“There’s something important I think we need to discuss.”

Dylan’s eyes went alert as they shot to mine, and I wondered what he thought it was I was going to say.
 

I caught his lower lip between my teeth and sucked it into my mouth, and then I gave him a playful grin and said, “I think you owe me a new shirt.”

15

PEACE, LOVE…AND PUMPKINS

THE NEXT DAY, we’d dusted off Dylan’s Honda Accord from where it’d been sitting in the garage for the past few months and made our way to the outskirts of Sunset Cove to have lunch with his family. He’d called them last night to surprise them with the news we were in town, and they immediately suggested we pop over for a late round of campfire corn, whatever that was, but we’d begged off and gone for a walk along the beach instead.
 

The warm, salty air already had me feeling rejuvenated, and I wondered when had been the last time I’d felt so free. It wouldn’t last, of course, since word was bound to get out as to where we were, but for at least last night, with Dylan’s hand in mine as we watched the crashing waves, my world had found steady footing. Peace.
 

“You don’t look nearly as nervous to meet the parents as you did walking into my apartment yesterday,” Dylan said, aiming a quick look my way as he turned onto a long strip of dirt road. “Why is that?”

“Technically, I’ve already met your parents. And yesterday I was just preparing to hold myself back in case Derek ended up being a little too friendly.”

Dylan laughed at that and made a left, passing a mailbox in the shape of a two-story wood house that had me doing a double take. The trees were thick on our sides as we rode along a bumpy dirt and gravel driveway, and then Dylan said, “But, as you saw, our relationship is purely platonic.”

“I approve.”

“And if you hadn’t? Would there have been a wrestling match? Tearing each other apart for my affections?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“I’d like to watch,” he said
.

“And here I thought you just wanted to be watched. Learning more about you every day, Prescott.”

He laughed, and as the trees thinned out, a two-story wood house, an exact match to the mailbox, rose up in front of us, accented by a jagged staircase that went down from the top floor and a two-person rainbow hammock out in front. It looked exactly like the kind of place I expected the Prescotts to live. In the green wilderness without neighbors, and in a larger version of a shack-style house. The exact opposite to my mother and father’s pristine multimillion-dollar estate in their gated community just outside of Chicago.

After Dylan parked the car and we got out, Sunshine opened the front door and gave a big wave.
 

“Hey, boys!” she said, and then went to the railing of the porch and leaned out over it to yell toward the backyard. “Ziggy, put the hoe down and come and greet your son and his new boyfriend.”

I glanced over the top of the car at Dylan, who was grinning but shaking his head.
 

“Don’t worry.” I chuckled. “My mother is always telling my father the same thing. Hos can be such a problem.”

Dylan let out a bark of laughter, and then raised a hand to shield his eyes as he gazed up at Sunshine. I followed his line of sight to see her running toward the stairs, and as she went her flowy, tie-dyed purple dress billowed out from where it was cinched around her breastbone and swished down around her legs and ankles. When her feet hit the stairs, I noticed she was without shoes as she raced down, excited to see her boy, and I was blown away by how that made me feel.

How comforting it must be to have such unconditional love. To know that no matter what you did, or who you were, all you had to do was come home and you would be accepted. No matter who you were.
 

Dylan was so lucky, and it explained so much about the man I was coming to know with each passing day. The reason he was so open, so free with himself, and so unbelievably kind and loving. It was all right here. The heart of Dylan was now standing in front of us with warmth in her eyes and what I knew to be pure happiness for the two of us in her heart.