Thin Ice (The Elmwood Stories #4) Read Online Lane Hayes

Categories Genre: M-M Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Elmwood Stories Series by Lane Hayes
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Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
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“Uh, I’m sorry.” I swallowed hard, nearly choking on a wave of intense need. “I don’t⁠—”

“I kissed you,” he intercepted in a gravelly tone.

“Yeah, well…I kissed you back.”

“That was…hot. But are you…bi or⁠—”

“Yes.” My voice sounded hoarse and rough. “I am. It’s been a while, but I guess it doesn’t go away.”

He studied me as if weighing his words, his gaze lingering on my mouth, then traveling all over my body. He had to notice my boner. My poor cock strained my zipper like a champ, begging for release. Bryson bit his lower lip and cleared his throat. Yep, he definitely noticed.

“I want to invite you inside,” he rasped.

“Do it.”

He blinked. “We shouldn’t.”

“I know.”

“But…if we’re never going to see each other again, it won’t matter. No one will know. No one can know.”

One thousand percent agreed.

“No one will ever know.” I crowded him against the door, running my finger along his spine and cupping his ass. “Invite me in.”

Bryson moaned in response and wordlessly grappled with his key card.

Two seconds later, we tumbled into his room.

3

BRYSON

This was not me.

Not kidding. My sex life was a void or at best, a party of one—me, my trusty dildo, and the occasional slide into online porn. I hadn’t been with a man in over a year, and that had been more of a hump-and-grind session in a parking lot with a realtor I’d met at a conference in Burlington than a meaningful encounter.

Years ago, JC and I had fooled around, but that was more or less a case of two friends who respected each other and valued privacy and discretion. The sex had been good for sure—not special. Maybe that was timing. I’d had Jake to think about and a growing business. I hadn’t been ready for a relationship and truthfully, we’d had no real spark. And now JC was a happily married man, so it was never meant to be.

I’d dabbled in online dating after Jake left for college, and that had been a comedy of errors. I’d met some truly odd gentlemen—none of whom were even booty-call candidates. They were momentary distractions akin to trying a new series on Netflix. If you went in with low expectations, you might be pleasantly surprised. And if it didn’t work out, it was coffee or dinner with a stranger. No big deal.

But climbing Smitty Paluchek like a tree was a big fucking deal. He was a pro hockey player who knew one of my closest friends…and my son. Jake had gone out of his way to lament how much he hated the man I was currently wrestling out of his T-shirt. Maybe his angst was incensed by Smitty’s on-ice smack talk, but Jake wasn’t a fighter and I’d witnessed him spiral into a raging lunatic in public all because of this guy.

Smitty tugged my shirt from my jeans and splayed his huge hand on my back, trailing his fingers along my sides and humming into my mouth as our tongues twirled and twisted. I grazed my thumbs over his nipples, loving his responsive shivers and groans. He deepened the kiss and fumbled with my belt. I unbuttoned his jeans and unzipped his fly, flattening my palm over his length.

He broke for oxygen, panting as he glanced at my fingers curled around his erection through a layer of cotton.

“Is this okay?” I asked, unzipping myself with my free hand to avoid passing out.

“Yeah, it’s so fuckin’ good.”

Smitty’s reverent tone made me smile.

“I can do better,” I purred, sinking to my knees.

He leaned on the wall, mumbling a litany of unintelligible curses as I slipped my thumbs under the elastic of his boxer briefs and lowered them. His gorgeous cock sprang free and bobbed in the air, nearly clipping my chin. I sat on my heels and dabbed at the corner of my mouth ’cause I was damn sure I was drooling now. He was a specimen of male beauty in his prime. Everything about Smitty was thick and beautiful…including his dick. And his balls.

God, I couldn’t wait to get my hands on him.

I traced the angry vein from root to tip and smeared the bead of precum on the wide mushroom head, teasing him with a light touch. Smitty growled somewhere above me, but I ignored him. I needed to explore and worship him properly. I hadn’t been on my knees for anyone like him in far too long.

I cupped his balls as if testing their weight, then wrapped my fingers around his shaft, stroking him with leisurely pulls.

“Oh, my…fuck.” He raked his hand through my hair and tilted his hips. “Keep going. Do whatever you want. I’m…this is good. So good.”

I tightened my grip and upped the tempo, loving his nonsensical babbling. “So good, fuck yes, oh, yeah.” The thrum of his deep voice was a turn-on, spurring me to give more, do more.



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