The Billionaire Bad Boys Club (6 page)

Continuing to look at Trey seemed like a bad idea. As he jogged up the steps of the old house’s wooden porch, he felt as if a foot-long hammer were wedged in his underwear.

“Get the lead out,” he called to Trey, who was strolling more leisurely behind him.

Still on the middle of their front walk, in full view of any neighbors who might be peeking out their windows, Trey reached into his trousers to adjust his boner.

The wave of heat that rushed to Zane’s core seared him.

He fumbled over opening the deadbolt just as he had the car. Luckily, he and Trey rented the first floor. They didn’t have any more stairs to run up or doors to unlock.

When Trey finished sauntering to the porch, Zane grabbed his wrist and yanked him in after him. Trey stumbled, but only until Zane caught him. Their combined weights slammed the door behind them.

The kiss that ensued was equatorial. Zane flattened Trey against the wood, grinding their groins together and eating at his mouth. Zane was only a little taller and barely had to bend his knees to match up their erections. Rarely shy about touching Zane, Trey climbed him with one leg and clutched both octopi arms around his back.

Zane relished the way they groped him.

“God,” Trey sighed, his neck arching back, his right hand urging Zane’s ass to rock harder. “I am so fucking hot for you.”

Past waiting any longer, Zane tore free and started ripping off his own clothes. As he did, he backed toward the living room. He loved fucking Trey over the arm of the button-tufted leather Chesterfield, the height being exactly right for them. He toed off his black Pradas, then braced on a chair to peel off his socks.

“Hurry,” he said to Trey, because he was barely done unbuttoning his shirt.

Zane shucked his trousers, leaving himself in nothing but underwear.

Seeing this, Trey pressed his hand to his heart and smiled. “You wore my favorites.”

The boxer briefs were black Calvin Kleins with a white waistband. Zane preferred Hugo Boss, but Trey had fetishized the former brand during his teenage jack off days. Exploiting this, Zane teased his fingers under the stretchy band. “Why don’t you finish stripping and then help me?”

That spurred Trey to undress with greater efficiency. He left his briefs on like Zane: white snug cotton that glowed against his bronzed hair and skin. Because he’d adjusted his cock outdoors, the head of the thick stiff rod—now leaning slightly to the left—stuck out above the top. Zane loved everything about Trey’s penis: the slightly flattened breadth of the crest, the strength of the veins, the way his shaft swelled in the middle when he was extra excited. It was swelling now, behind the soft cotton. His cock was big, maybe bigger than Zane’s. Since Trey was leaner, it seemed so.

Zane couldn’t take his eyes off the sexy monster as Trey approached.

He touched Zane’s waist when he arrived, fingers rubbing his skin softly. His tenderness might have been the only thing that could drag Zane’s gaze upward.

“Take yours off first,” Trey said. “My surprise is under mine.”

“You’ve really got a surprise.”

“I really do,” Trey said.

Zane kissed him, lips molding over his lover’s gently, hands flattened for balance behind his shoulder blades. The girl-soft kiss was more Trey’s style than his. When he let go, Trey was starry-eyed. Pleased with himself, Zane shucked his briefs, spun them around one finger, then plopped himself bare-ass naked on the couch.

“All right,” he said, arms and legs akimbo on the leather, “show me what you’ve got in there.”

Trey shoved the white briefs down his legs. Zane noticed his bare cock first, this being the natural magnet for his interest. He took a moment to realize Trey’s pubes were shaved.

Then he saw the outline of the ornate monster.

“Holy fuck,” he said, scooting forward on the cushion.

Trey had a new tattoo, a black Chinese dragon a bit smaller than Zane’s hand running up the left half of his abdomen. This was no press on. The skin around the design was pink from healing. The dragon’s tail curled around the hefty base of Trey’s erection, the final pointy tip extending onto his penile skin on the underside. Zane’s breath hissed in at the thought of artist’s needle shooting ink into him there.

Getting this tattoo must have burned like a mother.

Zane’s penis lurched out so hard it felt like it was burning too. His hands seemed to find their own way onto Trey’s thighs, stroking the hairy muscles there. He swallowed, more turned on than he knew how to describe.

“It’s not complete yet,” Trey said, his voice softened by shyness. “I could only stand to have one color done for the first session. You’ll see the letters more clearly once the green and red are there.”

There were letters? Trey’s erection cast a shadow from the light on the end table. Zane pushed his shaft gently to the side so he could see better. He was panting and couldn’t seem to stop. Somehow, he thought Trey would forgive him.

And there they were: an intertwined
Z
and
T
worked into the dragon’s body. The lettering was fancy, hard to read unless you knew to look for it.

“It’s for me,” Trey said. “To always remember us. No one else will guess it’s there.”

Zane throat threatened to close up. Fuck, Trey was sweet sometimes. He didn’t know how to thank him, though he was going to try. He looked up, knowing his emotions shone naked in his eyes. “When did you get this done?”

“Last week. I kept wondering if you’d notice I was avoiding you in bed.”

“Oh I noticed.” Zane laughed ruefully at himself. “Why do you think I’ve been in a shit mood lately?”

“Because you thought we were going our separate ways.”

“Didn’t that upset you?”

“Yes,” Trey said. “Why do you think I wanted a memento—especially one that was guaranteed to get you hot under the collar.”

Zane frowned, but Trey wasn’t fooled.

“Come on,” he said. “You think I haven’t noticed how much you like my neck tat? You hardly ever nuzzle the other side. It’s always the inked one you’re licking up.”

Zane shook his head. “You are too smart for me.”

Trey didn’t say
of course
, just tipped his head endearingly to the side. “Want to christen my cock art?”

In case Zane couldn’t figure out what he meant, he poked the tip of his tongue out. That this was a cheap trick didn’t matter. Zane’s groin tightened with excitement.

“Yes,” he said huskily. “I want to lick you until you’re dripping . . . and then I want you to fuck me.”

Trey’s grin had been widening, but at this it faltered. “Really? I thought you didn’t like being fucked.”

Zane had a thing about pitching versus catching, but maybe it was time he got over it. Trey taking him wouldn’t make him less of a man. Trey couldn’t make anyone less than they were.

“I want you to,” he said, his ass going weirdly hot. “It wouldn’t hurt you too much, would it? Since your tattoo is still healing?”

“Oh boy.” Trey dragged his thumb and fingers down the sides of his expressive mouth. He had long creases there when he smiled, like dimples on steroids.

“What?” Zane asked, because Trey looked sheepish. “Should we save this for another night?”

Trey shook his head and laughed breathily. “Here’s the thing: If fucking you hurts me a little, it’ll get me extra hot.”

Zane didn’t think of Trey as a guy who kept secrets. His face gave him away too easily. Zane’s obvious amazement must have embarrassed him. Trey’s face turned redder than his cockhead.

“I don’t mind that,” Zane hurried to reassure him. “I’m just surprised you kept this to yourself.”

Trey didn’t explain why he had. He grabbed Zane’s hands, hauling him off the couch and kissing him thoroughly. Zane enjoyed that, but didn’t forget his agenda.

“Phew,” he said, disengaging his tingling lips. Their groins were plastered together, their long naked cocks squashed as close as possible. Zane wondered if his curls were chafing Trey’s waxed skin—and if this was good or bad. Whatever the answer, Trey was revved. His slit was leaking a steady trickle of pre-cum.

Loving that, Zane rubbed the moisture slowly across their side-by-side dick heads.

Dropping his gaze to watch, Trey bit out a breathless curse.

“Stay,” Zane ordered, sitting back on the couch himself.

He kept his hold on Trey’s hands, fingers locked to form conjoined fists. Normally, he’d have gripped the base of Trey’s penis before he went down on him, but he trusted him not to over thrust. The gamble had a nice payoff. Trey’s fingers tended to telegraph every shift in his tension. They tightened like iron when Zane’s mouth sank over him.

Trey sighed as sweetly as if it were his first time.

Zane never lost his enthusiasm for this act. Sucking Trey’s cock was his idea of heaven. Tonight, it looked like his friend wasn’t destined to last long. His moans grew louder, his fingers clenching Zane’s as his thighs knotted. Taking pity, Zane switched to lapping the flat of his tongue up him.

Trey’s body undulated from knees to chest.

Laughing, Zane sat back with his legs sprawled. His cock could have been a pole planted at his crotch. “You’re not up for teasing right now, are you?”

Trey shook his head and panted.

Zane was going to do it anyway. Sliding off the couch, he kneeled on the carpet to nip and kiss Trey’s hipbone. Trey had a sexy muscle that swooped and fell around it. Zane mouthed his way along it until he reached Trey’s dragon. With a little prayer that he hurt him the right amount, he pulled his tongue across the slightly hotter skin where the tattoo artist had performed his magic.

Once he’d left a trail of wetness, he blew on it.

Trey shuddered, fingers gripping Zane’s hard enough to hurt. Zane’s cock began to tremble, sympathetically excited. The tattoo made this better, the knowledge that his lover could not only take the pain but actually got off on it. Maybe this said weird things about Zane’s kinks, but he couldn’t help enjoying that Trey was tough. Again Zane licked, a longer swipe this time . . .

Then he dragged his tongue to the very tip of the dragon’s tail.

“Stop,” Trey begged, a mere breath of air. “I’m too close to going.”

Zane stopped. He wanted Trey to last too. “You ready to take me then?”

“
I’m
ready,” Trey said. “You need a bit of prep.”

Zane and Trey’s two-bedroom apartment was their sanctum. They didn’t bring female dates here, and only close friends hung out. Because of this, they didn’t hesitate to stock every room with supplies. Considering how much they liked sex, they never knew where the mood would strike.

Trey reached into the end table drawer for KY and Trojans. Tossing them to Zane, he shifted the lamp and table out of their way. Making sure they didn’t trash their belongings was usually Zane’s job. Watching Trey’s arm muscles tighten with the familiar task sent an odd thrill through him.

“Stand,” Trey said. His voice was every bit as authoritative as Zane’s could be. “I’m going to fuck you over that couch arm.”

Zane stood. His legs were stiff as he moved into the specified position, his forward bend on the padded leather unavoidably awkward. This was Trey’s place, exactly to a T. Zane rested his weight on his elbows, craning his head around as his friend stepped closer.

“Good,” Tray praised, sliding both hands around Zane’s butt cheeks. His palms were warm, his caress admiring.

He took the lube away from Zane’s hand.

Zane had engaged in butt play a time or two—a thumb crooked into his hole to excite him, a lick that skirted the forbidden. Until tonight, that was as far as it went. Trey had never stuck a finger all the way in before, much less one coated in warm lube. Zane must have been readier than he knew. His body didn’t resist the smooth intrusion.

“God,” he said, squirming helplessly. His interior tingled around Trey’s knuckles, and his cock had begun to drip. “Jeez, Trey, that feels so good.”

Trey bent over to kiss his nape, hot breath stirring the short hairs there. “Want to try another finger before you take my dick?”

Zane did and didn’t, his every erotic nerve suddenly impatient. “Yes,” he said, because he had to give some answer.

Trey pulled out, squeezed more lube down his crack. His way prepared, he pushed two fingers into him. That was even better. Zane groaned, his spine arching with pure need. Seeming to understand what he wanted, Trey moved his slick fingers. He curved them to match Zane’s passage, their probing almost too gentle. Gentle or not, they felt incredible. In and out they rubbed—deep, slow—sending waves of feeling through his body.

Zane gritted his teeth with pleasure, helpless to keep his moans inside. “Tell me, Trey. Why did I . . . wait so long to do this?”

Trey laughed and pulled his fingers out, eliciting a small whine from Zane. Paper ripped. Trey had grabbed a towelette packet to wipe his hand.

“Nothing wrong with waiting until you’re ready.” To Zane’s relief, Trey’s voice was thick with anticipation. “You’re bound to enjoy it more this way.”

Zane was already enjoying it. He still held the box of condoms, his tensed-up hand having crumpled the cardboard. Trey rescued the squashed package and took out what he needed.

Unable to resist, Zane turned his head to watch. As graceful as a sculptor smoothing a length of clay, Trey rolled the latex on.

“Now I know I’m big,” Trey said, stroking his shaft more than he had to. “I promise you, though, you can take my mighty sword. You don’t have to worry about swooning.”

“Fuck,” Zane said, startled into a laugh.

Seeing his joke was appreciated, Trey grinned broadly. His
mighty sword
sheathed and ready, he cruised his hands gently up Zane’s back. “I love you,” he said. “I’m really glad you’re ready to try this.”

He said this as easily as Zane would wish him luck on an exam. He seemed not to realize hearing it would stun Zane. Trey loved him? Trey wanted to say it? Zane knew they were best friends; more than friends, truthfully. Nonetheless, those words rocked his foundations.

“Shush,” Trey said, amusement crinkling his eyes. “That’s a freebie. No need to think about it too hard.”