Page 23 of No Kind Words (Calston Cove #3)

Dear god, I think my heart is going to burst out of my chest.

I’ve never seen anything as hot as Jethro’s naked body.

The tattoos are as bold and as bright as he is, but it’s the ring through his cock that has me captivated.

I’ve only ever seen them in porn.

They have been a turn-on for me, and for the first time in a very long while, I want to feel that inside me.

I haven’t bottomed for god knows how long. With a hook-up, I prefer to top, but with a boyfriend, I’ve been happy to give and receive.

What will it feel like on my tongue? By the look on Jethro’s face, he’s going to let me do anything as long as I do something.

His command to touch him, so soft and warm by my ear, urges me to move.

I do as he demands.

When I grip his solid shaft and tug, a groan rumbles from his throat, and I press my mouth against it.

He swallows beneath my lips.

As I run my thumb over the metalwork, a shudder wracks his body. “How does it feel to have my hands on you again? How many nights have you jerked off to the memories? Because I’ve lost count.”

Jethro tips his head back, giving me the chance to scrape my teeth over the day’s stubble on his jawline up to his ear.

“There’s no going back, Jet.”

I use the cool version of his name. “I’ve held back, been cautious with my heart, but if you give yourself to me, there’s no staying away from me.”

I jack him harder, faster, as his chest heaves. He looks at me, his eyes blazing with lust, need and something very much like…love. I halt my hand, and he moans and thrusts to gain friction again.

“Don’t stop. I’m so close. Christ, fuck, yeah. Like that.”

Jethro’s voice is deep and desperate as he chases my mouth for another kiss.

As I devour his mouth, sucking on his tongue, biting on his lip, he stiffens and shudders and comes into my hand.

Hot, silky spunk coats my fingers, dripping over my knuckles.

I want to taste him, so just like when he pinned me to the door, I lift my hand to my mouth and lick a long stream from my knuckles.

As I clean my hand, Jethro’s gaze is fixed on my tongue.

Before I can finish, he pushes his hands into my hair and kisses me, licking at my lips and tongue, chasing the last of his release.

Slowly we separate, and he bends to pick up his towel, his back to me.

Fuck.

Scars criss-cross his skin, some in the shape of a heavy buckle.

There’s one I can’t look away from—a deep keloid dark pink scar over his hips and kidneys.

Others are paler, silver marks.

As I stroke over his shoulder blades, he stiffens, then turns his head to me.

He looks stricken and slowly straightens up. Before he’s upright, I place a kiss on the marks on his ribs, letting my lips roam over every scar.

“I’m so sor—”

Jethro places two fingers over my lips. “Don’t. It’s over and doesn’t matter anymore. We’ve found each other again.”

“Is it that easy?”

“Yes. The only downside is that the old bastard isn’t around to see us.”

He smiles, and I can’t help laughing as well.

“Get some clothes on, and we can get the food sorted.”

I watch with amusement as Jethro groans around the first bite of the pizza, his eyes rolling back. From what my friends have said, I make a damn good pizza. And seeing Jethro almost having another orgasm proves they are right.

“Oh, god, this is the best pizza I’ve ever tasted,”

he mumbles around the second mouthful. “Do you sell these in the café? Because I’m sure Maeve would’ve told me.”

“No, this is something I do for myself or friends if they ask.” I shrug.

“That’s crazy. You could make a fortune.”

“I work enough already. I’m already up at four a.m. to bake for the café.”

People rarely realise how much work goes on before they walk into the café for their morning coffee.

The early mornings have always been a peaceful time.

Until I discovered audiobooks, and now I’ve succumbed to books I never thought I’d love—gay romance.

The hours fly by as I lose myself in the world of hot hockey players and special forces, but mainly the lost lovers who finally make it back together.

Wishful thinking, I always thought, but here I am, with Jethro and the new start I’ve been wishing for.

Jethro wipes his mouth and hands with a serviette and screws it up into a ball, all laughter gone.

This is going to be something serious, and I’m not sure if it’s going to be a good serious or a bad one.

“You okay?”

I shift on the sofa to get a better look at him.

“What do we do now?”

Jethro asks, looking a little unsettled.

“What do you mean?”

“Us. What do you want? I’ve never really done this. I rarely dated. Boyfriends never lasted more than a couple of months. I never wanted to show my back, so making it more serious was out of the question. I don’t know how to do this, not out in the open.”

The furrow on his forehead has deepened. This is troubling him.

“We don’t need to do anything but be together. Hang out with our friends at early doors. The food is pretty good in the pubs. Nobody is going to be surprised, are they? You already know everyone’s been waiting for this.”

I pull him against me, placing a gentle kiss on his temple.

“I’m not expecting anything.

There’s no rush for us to jump into bed together.

We can get to know each other again. Which brings us back to dating. It will be fun. We never got the chance before.”

Jethro is quiet.

The crease on his forehead has lessened in its ferocity, but it’s still there.

Then he smiles, and his whole face lights up.

“Y’know, handjobs are still considered sex, so just because we’re not rushing straight towards full-on fucking, I’m down for more of that. Nor am I averse to blow jobs.”

I laugh and kiss him again.

“That’s good to know.

I’m sure I can be accommodating.”

I check my watch. “I think I’d better get home. Hope needs her meds before I can get her settled down for the night.”

“I’ll drive you back.”

The journey home only takes a few minutes. When Jethro pulls up outside my home, he switches off the engine and twists to face me. “I’ve had a great evening. I can’t wait to get together again. When are you free?”

“It’s early doors tomorrow night. What time can you be finished at work?”

We arrange to meet at the pub tomorrow, and after some steaming hot kisses, I get out of the car and into my house. I give him a wave before he leaves.

It doesn’t take me long to get Hope sorted and settled for the night.

Unfortunately, it’s not the same for me.

My head is spinning with the memory of the way he came, the metal ring in his cock that had him groaning when I touched it.

The taste of him when I licked my hand clean took me back to the warmth of the hay loft, but more than any of those memories, the scars on his back prevent me from going to sleep.

What would I have done if I’d known how badly that bastard had hurt his son? After all these years, I still don’t have a truthful answer.

All I know now is that Jethro is back, and I’m not giving him up again.