Chapter 19

As soon as the front door shut behind them, Jon tossed his camera bag onto the couch and took the other from Clay’s hand to send it in the same direction.

“Come ‘ere” he said, the words emerging in a rumbling growl. “It’s been too damn long.”

After another hard hug and an urgent kiss, they got down to business. Clothes scattered in every direction. No time for such niceties as folding or even hanging over the furniture. Clay barely got out of his jeans before Jon had him in a powerful grip, pushing him up against the nearest wall.

“Get your legs up and wrapped around me,” he ordered.

Equally caught up in the feverish urgency, Clay complied. He felt Jon’s poker-hard prick nudge him and willed himself to relax, although his whole body was taut with need. Then Jon paused, gave a ragged sigh, and lowered Clay back to his feet.

“Can’t,” he said, “not yet, not like this. We’ve gotta do it right with lube and rubbers. Got some—in my little bag.”