Page 18 of Hollis (The Moore Men #2)

Eleven

Ford

K nockinBoots: Well, maybe I can help you with that…

My body heats as I read the message back again.

FireInMyVeins: Yeah? What’d you have in mind?

I should go to bed. I should put my phone away, roll over, and get some sleep since we’ve got an early morning.

What I absolutely should not be doing is responding to Hollis when I have a pretty good guess at where this is going.

And based on the way my cock is growing harder by the second, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want it to go there too.

Lying here on this air mattress, with my phone unlocked, and my eyes zeroed in on our text thread, waiting on bated breath for him to reply, it becomes crystal clear that I’m ignoring the rational part of my brain telling me what I should and shouldn’t be doing.

Hollis is here… He’s a few tents away, and this clearly is wrong.

I’d like to blame the alcohol, but that would also be a lie.

No, it’s something else altogether. It’s a ru sh to the head.

Like, adrenaline pumping through my bloodstream, knowing I’m in a small, flimsy tent, surrounded by my subordinates, and him , in the middle of nowhere.

Knowing I could get caught. It’s a thought that should be enough to put a stop to this, but instead, it makes my dick twitch against my thigh.

KnockinBoots: Question first… Are you as hard as I am right now?

FireInMyVeins: Yes.

Sending it without a second thought, I reach down, palming my rigid length through my briefs.

KnockinBoots: What’s got you so hard, baby? *thinking face emoji*

FireInMyVeins: You.

KnockinBoots: Do tell…

FireInMyVeins: I’m thinking about how good you’d look between my legs right now. Watching you pull my pants down, the way your eyes would light up as my thick, hard cock is freed, and the way you’d lick your lips as you wrap a hand around me.

I hurriedly shove my briefs down, needing to touch myself fully. Needing to ease some of the tension mounting inside me. Closing my fist around my length, I slowly stroke from base to tip, my eyes rolling back as I breathy groan falls from my lips. Fuck, that feels good.

KnockinBoots: Mmm… Fuck yeah. You’d feel so hot and smooth against my hand. What do I do next?

FireInMyVeins: You’d stroke my cock nice and slow for a while. Get me all worked up with nothing but your hand before flicking your tongue against the tip, cleaning up the pre-cum dripping out of me .

KnockinBoots: You’d taste so fucking good, baby. I’d be dying for more.

FireInMyVeins: I know you would, but you’d have to be patient.

KnockinBoots: *eye roll emoji* I guess I can be patient, so long as you tell me what I do next… and be detailed, baby.

Fuck. My hand tightens around my cock as my hips thrust up into my fist. How can this be so hot?

How can I be this turned on by the idea of him being here and doing this?

It doesn’t make sense, but now isn’t the time to stop and analyze it.

Forcing myself to stop before I come, my thumbs fly across the screen as I type out a response.

FireInMyVeins: You’d keep jacking me off while you lean down and suck on my balls. Your hot, wet tongue would feel like heaven as it swirled around and teased me.

KnockinBoots: Fuck, I love your imagination, baby. You’ve got me so fucking hard… Wanna see?

FireInMyVeins: Yes. Show me.

While I wait for him to send proof, I bring my hand back to my cock, stroking faster and with more fervor than before.

Every inch of my body feels keyed up. His response comes through, but instead of a picture waiting for me, it’s a video.

My pulse kicks up a notch, heart beating so powerfully I can feel it in my throat as I fumble with the volume, wanting to make sure it’s quiet enough to not be heard outside the tent, before pressing play.

Hand wrapped around his dick, Hollis pumps himself, flicking his wrist on the upstroke.

A deep, throaty groan fills the speakers, the sound sending a shot of hot, dripping arousal straight to my cock.

A desperate, hungry need washes over me, and before I know it, I’m reaching down and mimicking what he’s doing on myself, imagining it’s his hand instead of mine.

“Look how fuckin’ hard you’ve got me, baby.” His voice is low and full of gravel. “The thought of suckin’ on your big, juicy nuts while I rub on that beautiful, fat cock has me fuckin’ leakin’ for you.”

The video zooms in on the tip. A pool of sticky pre-cum sits on the slit, dripping down the side, and my mouth waters, wanting to know what he would taste like.

He swipes his thumb through the mess, spreading it around, before stroking himself a few more times before the video ends.

As I close out of it, a new message pops up from him.

KnockinBoots: Your turn, baby…

There’s no hesitation. No nerves swimming low in my gut, causing my mind to freeze.

Tossing the sleeping bag off my body, I sit on my knees and open the camera.

As soon as it’s recording, my hand is moving—no, flying —up and down my shaft.

A deep ache settles in my balls as pleasure soars through my body.

The knowledge that he’s going to be watching this in a minute makes it feel that much better.

“You gonna take this cock in your mouth when you’re done sucking on my balls?

” My words come out gruff, thick with arousal, and louder than I intend, but fuck it.

It’s late, and everybody else has probably already passed out.

“You’d look fucking sexy with your lips wrapped around my dick, wouldn’t you?

I’d grab a fistful of your hair as I took control.

Your eyes would be bloodshot and wet, cheeks flushed, spit dripping from the corner of your mouth as I fucked your tight little throat. You’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

A growl rips from my chest as let go of my cock, not wanting to come yet. Sweat beads across my forehead and down the back of my neck as I end the video and send it. I scroll back up to the one he sent, watching it again. Everything about it turns me on.

The muffled sound of his voice.

His labored breathing.

The tight grip he’s got on his dick.

Even the way his foreskin moves with each thrust. Covering the pink tip before revealing it again.

It’s hypnotizing, like a seductive game of peek-a-boo.

I want to replace his hand with mine, want to feel his cock against my palm.

Feel how hot it is, how hard it is, and knowing it’s because of me.

I want to lick up the pre-cum and have his taste and scent fill my senses.

A response comes through, and the speed at which I scroll to read it is embarrassing.

KnockinBoots: You know what’s even hotter than that video?

FireInMyVeins: What’s that?

KnockinBoots: The fact that you’re only about forty feet away from me right now and I could help you with that in person…

Oh, god. Dread washes over me, my blood running ice cold as I read the message over again. Dropping the phone on the air mattress, I sit back on my legs and thrust my fingers into my hair, tugging on the strands.

Oh, fuck. He knows.

Hollis knows it’s me.

No, no, no.

Fuck.

My chest tightens as I swallow against a lump of dread. The walls of this tent are closing in on me. It’s making my head swim.

Is he fucking with me and making a guess? Or does he know ? And how does he know? Clicking on the video I sent him, I rewatch it, looking for any distinguishable signs, but I see nothing. I was careful. And then it hits me… My voice.

Fuck!

I was so lost in the heat of the moment that I didn’t even realize what I was saying, or how stupid it was to say anything at all.

I need fresh air.

After I tug my briefs around my waist, I grab the closest shirt I can find, pulling it over my head.

Shoving my feet into my sneakers, I unzip the tent with shaky hands and step into the night.

I glance around at the tents surrounding mine.

It’s hard to make out anything with how dark it is, but it doesn’t appear like anyone else is awake, nor does it look like Hollis is out here.

Thank god.

How could I have been so fucking stupid?

I’m nauseous and lightheaded, and my knees feel like they’re going to buckle any second now.

Walk… I just need to walk. Sticks and leaves crunch under the soles of my shoes with each heavy-footed step I take.

I should’ve brought my phone with me. At least then I could’ve used the flashlight to illuminate the path in front of me instead of walking aimlessly in the pitch black.

As I trek farther away from my tent, it all happens so fast. One minute, I’m focusing on my breathing—taking in deep breaths through my nose and exhaling fully through my mouth—and the next, my body is being jolted to the side by a fist around the front of my shirt as I’m shoved against a rough, solid surface.

A tree.

What the fuck is going on?

A growl erupts from my lungs, my mouth like sandpaper as all words seem to escape me.

No matter how many times I blink or strain my eyes, I can’t make out who’s in front of me.

It’s too fucking dark now that we’re under a bed of trees, but I know…

I know exactly who’s standing in front of me.

I attempt to push off the massive tree trunk that’s digging into my back, but I can’t because the hand grabbing the front of my shirt is quickly replaced with a strong, steady forearm.

The weight against my chest has my breaths growing heavy and my heart thrashing against my ribcage.

Hollis leans forward, bringing his face beside mine.

The new proximity does two things at once.

First, the side of his face brushes against mine, thick, coarse hair covering his cheek and lining his jaw scratches against mine, sending a wave of goosebumps all over my flesh.

And secondly, his rich scent surrounds me, invading my senses.

Leather, tobacco, and something woodsy.

Alarm bells go off in my mind, heart pounding so hard, I’m sure he can feel it beneath his forearm. Bringing his mouth to the shell of my ear, Hollis says, “Fuckin’ knew it was you, Captain .”

And then his lips are on mine.