When the Dead Speak by Bailey Bradford (books to read to improve english txt) 📕

Sev scraped his nails over Laine’s nipples, then his world was spinning, twirling in a dizzying kaleidoscope of confusion that had Sev scrabbling for a hold on Laine’s chest. Sev’s back hit the bed then his body was covered by one lean, sexy sheriff. Eyes slitted narrowly, Laine lowered his head until his lips hovered a breath away from Sev’s.

“I shouldn’t…” Whatever had held Laine back before flitted across his features then was gone. Sev opened his mouth to protest, because he was going to curl up and cry if he didn’t get to come some way or another with this man. Laine cut him off before he could speak.

“But I’m gonna.” Laine’s lips brushed against Sev’s softly, setting off sparks in every nerve in his body, then those same nerves seemed to burst with pleasure as Sev’s mouth was devoured, Laine’s tongue sweeping in, learning every ridge and groove. The taste of Laine flooded Sev’s senses, mint and coffee blending together with a unique flavor that pulled a strangled sound from Sev. Teeth and lips mashed together, dicks ground against each other’s bodies. Laine pushed up with one arm, then Sev felt Laine grappling for the button on his jeans.

Sev reached down to help Laine and they fumbled and fought to open Sev’s pants. Another of those sexy growls passed Laine’s lips, the vibrations rumbling into Sev’s mouth as Laine plundered it again. Sev’s balls drew close to his body and he groaned. He wanted to feel Laine’s hand on his cock before he came. Laine lifted his lips from Sev’s and pushed himself upright until he was straddling Sev’s thighs. Sev knew a moment’s panic, sure that Laine was going to crawl off the bed and leave him wanting, but the need in Laine’s eyes reassured him that wasn’t going to happen. Instead, Laine grabbed the waistband of Sev’s jeans and popped the button open. His hands were steady until he had Sev’s zipper down, then with trembling fingers, he pulled at the elastic of Sev’s underwear, groaning as the glistening head of Sev’s cock appeared.

“Damn, that’s pretty.” Laine’s voice was only a hair less shaky than his hands as he ran a finger over Sev’s leaking slit. The shudder that rippled through Sev bordered on painful as his muscles clenched.

“God, Laine…please!” Sev tried to thrust against Laine’s hand and whimpered when Laine’s weight on his thighs kept him from finding the friction he needed. Sev reached for his dick, desperate to come, but Laine batted his hand away.

“Just a sec…” Laine fisted Sev’s cock at the base, squeezing with just the right amount of pressure. His other hand worked the button of his jeans. The zipper slid down and Sev’s eyes widened at the thick red cockhead peeking from the waistband of Laine’s boxers. Sev pushed himself up on his elbows, his mouth watering at the amount of pre-cum that slicked the crown of Laine’s dick.

Laine shoved his boxers down far enough to grip his heavy length, and before Sev could speak, before he could tell Laine that he wanted that thick shaft in his ass, Laine started stroking them both, a dick in each hand, with a grip that was better than anything Sev had ever managed on himself. His arms gave and Sev’s head hit the pillow, his eyes closing no matter how hard he tried to keep them open as pleasure swamped his body. Laine’s strokes became faster, his breath coming out in heavy grunts. Laine’s legs trembled, but the man’s hand never faltered. Skin tingling with warmth as his body flushed, Sev’s back bowed as he dug his fingers into the mattress.

Something that sounded like a mix between a whimper and a yell was torn from him as he came, spraying spunk onto his belly and chest. Sev gasped and struggled for air, then forced his eyes open as he felt Laine’s knees shift. Laine let go of Sev’s cock and dropped down until he was kneeling over Sev, head flung back, one arm planted by Sev’s shoulders as he jacked his dick and groaned as bursts of thick, hot cum hit Sev’s chest. Sev forgot to breathe, he was so stunned by the erotic vision of Laine in orgasm. The man’s face almost glowed with the intensity of his climax. His cock pulsed out one last jet of cum, then his head dropped, hanging low enough that his hair tickled Sev’s forehead. Deep shudders rocked Laine and jerky breaths sounded harsh in the small hotel room.

Sev pried his fingers loose from their grip on the mattress and slipped his hands inside Laine’s shirt again. Laine hummed in approval as Sev caressed his sides, nothing overtly sexual in the touch, just the two of them enjoying the feel of each other’s flesh.

Later, once Sev had spent hours dwelling on his stupidity, he believed that if his brain hadn’t been melted into a sloppy gray liquid he might not have opened his mouth and screwed up. If he’d been thinking, he would have been cautious, would have waited until he and Laine had touched and kissed and stroked to their hearts’— No! Their bodies’—content.

But no, he had been a dipshit and forgot everything he knew about spirits. The nagging presence that had pushed and annoyed Sev until he’d given in and come to McKinton had whispered along Sev’s senses again, buzzed in his brain. The spirit had been pleasantly happy instead of insistently harping as it had been doing before.

Sev had been relaxed and content in a way he hadn’t before. Part of that was because Laine had discovered Sev’s ability to speak with the dead—it had been there in the report, had to be, and Laine hadn’t mocked him. Well, Laine hadn’t really gotten the chance to, either, since they’d gone at each other in a spectacular frenzy of need. Still, Sev had seen and heard Laine speaking with the spirit, so it hadn’t seemed like a bad thing at the time to