Page 65 of Love and History

“Where would you go?”

“Iceland,” I replied, chomping another bite. “I want to explore ice caves, glacier lagoons, and experience the Northern lights on full display. I want to visit places where stars bend to the Earth.”

Ezra grinned. “I fucking love the way you talk. You’re like a poet.”

“You’re an easy audience,” I said, not-so-secretly pleased with the compliment.

“Sometimes, but I mean it. You’re just enthusiastic enough to make weird things seem interesting.”

“Thanks, but the Northern lights are not weird.”

“True.” He popped the last of his sandwich into his mouth and took his plate to the sink. “Say you had exactly a thousand bucks leftover after sage investments and a ton of traveling…what would you do?”

“Give it to—”

“And you can’t give it to a charity,” he intercepted.

“Okay, then I’d enroll in a few classes. Maybe take ceramics or a cooking class or…” I met him at the sink and handed over my plate. “Poetry.”

Ezra washed my dish and motioned for me to pick up a towel. “Interesting. I don’t know much about ceramics, but I can teach you how to cook. And I know a little poetry.”

“You’re a chefanda poet now?” I snickered, placing the dried dishes in the cupboard.

“I was always a good cook. Hey, that sandwich was an Ezra original. What’dya think of it?”

“It was very tasty. But it was a basic turkey and cheese—”

Ezra lunged for me, tickling my sides, then leaning against the counter and drawing me to his chest.

“Basic? That was gourmet, baby. I’ll show you how to assemble a killer sandwich later. Let’s work on poetry now. Here’s a sample: Roses are red, sometimes they’re blue. I think you’re fucking amazing, and I want to do you.” He bit my chin. “That’s an original haiku…from me.”

I burst into laughter, wiggling when he nipped my ear. “You’re ridiculous. And that was not a haiku.”

“Close enough.” He nuzzled my neck, unbuttoning my shirt as he pressed kisses along my jaw. “I want you…so fucking much.”

“Mmm.”

“And you want me. Don’t you?”

“Yes.” I shivered when he held my chin, licked my lips, and drove his tongue inside, devouring me in long, hungry strokes.

I surrendered immediately. Of course I did. I didn’t know what it was about this man, but I seemed to lose track of time and all sense of propriety where Ezra was concerned. I swayed into his touch when he stroked me till my cock had the tensile strength of a steel rod. He unthreaded my belt and undid the buckle and zipper, pausing to grip me through my boxer briefs before pulling them over my ass.

He put two fingers to my lips. “Suck them. That’s it.”

I obeyed, gasping when he slid them along my crack and grazed my entrance.

“We can’t do this here. Someone might come home.”

“Cole is in LA,” he growled, tapping my hole. “Tommy’s at work.”

“But he might come home and—mmm. Oh, that’s good.”

“He won’t. But just in case, face the window. You can be our lookout.” He pulled the elastic waistband over his erection, swaying his hips before stroking himself. “I need you.”

“Ezra, we need lube and a condom and—”

“You’re right. We should get tested,” he intercepted, licking my neck.