Midwinter Night's Dream by Whitley Gray Page A

him once, down-up. Slowly Errol moved his hips side to side, brushing their hard-ons together. So delicate, but the touch lit Joe’s nerve endings like a Christmas tree.
    God, I want you . Joe slid one hand into Errol’s hair and the other down to the small of his back and pulled him close. In the crowded space, their dicks warred for position, hard and hot. Errol bit his lip, smiled, and the last of the protective wall around Joe’s heart disintegrated, uncovering the hole left two years ago. Bryce…
    Joe’s eyes stung. He’d never felt so vulnerable, so open to hurt, but the hollowness inside of him needed to be filled. Sex alone wouldn’t do it, but this wasn’t just sex, was it?
    More. He needed more. More contact, more friction. More Errol. Joe licked and kissed his way down Errol’s throat, across his collarbone, and bit lightly on his shoulder, tasting salt and skin. So…real. The fresh smell of soap and shampoo, the scent of arousal, the little moans and grunts as they worked against each other. It was the most honest encounter Joe had had in years.
    He could feel Errol’s need shuddering through his taut body, responding to the arousal in his own. They rocked against each other, Joe’s heart banging away, their cocks rubbing, progressing to vigorous thrusting and grinding. A frisson of pleasure rolled down Joe’s spine and spread through nerve endings, spiraling around his balls and cock. He reached between them and wrapped his hand around their shafts, hot and slippery with precum, and pumped them together. Sweet, sweet friction, building pleasure, stroke by stroke.
    “God.” Errol made a sound halfway between a grunt and a laugh, picked up the rhythm, and thrust into Joe’s fist. Errol trembled as he clutched Joe’s shoulders, and somehow that made Joe tremble too.
    “You…are…beautiful,” Joe murmured. Tension wound higher with every stroke, and his balls grew heavy. He gasped, trying to rein himself in. Not yet. Not yet . Slowing the slide helped him get control, but the electricity still crackled just below the surface.
    Errol whimpered and shoved his dick into the ring of Joe’s fist, breath cool on Joe’s neck. “Don’t stop. Please.”
    The plea went straight to Joe’s cock; he was back on the edge, body screaming for release. A sharp pinch stung below Joe’s ear and startled him. He shivered. A love bite, and right where it always sent impulses down his spine. Errol gave a breathy chuckle, and his warm tongue soothed the spot, soft and wet. Joe tightened his grip and stroked them faster; the tension cranked up, winding higher, surging up his spine in hot waves.
    With a yell, Errol threw his head back and came, hot and slippery pulses spilling between them. Joe’s release teetered on the edge, and he groaned in frustration, pumping once, twice. Tingling spread from the back of his head down his spine and into his balls, sparkling along nerve endings until he erupted in liquid heat. The room disappeared, his knees weakened, and he leaned into Errol as an aftershock rippled through him.
    “Lord almighty,” Joe whispered. He hadn’t come that hard in years.
    Errol panted against his ear, breath hot and moist, leaning against the wall and holding them both up. Errol trembled and murmured, “That was…intense.”
    That was not a bad description, actually. “Yeah. Nap?”
    “Nap.”
    “And…less clothes?”
    In Joe’s arms, Errol stilled.
    Shit. Way to push it, Blake.
    Errol pulled back and met his gaze. “Yeah.”
     
    LESS CLOTHES. YIKES . Errol swallowed. “Um, I’m going to make a quick pit stop.”
    “Okay. I’ll be here.”
    Errol closed the door and stared at himself in the mirror. He had two spots of high color on his cheeks, and his eyes practically glowed. Something was taking root between him and Joe, tender and new and exhilarating. And all because of car trouble and a blizzard.
    Watch out, or you’re going to get hurt.
    At present it seemed worth the risk.