“I’m going to drop you off, kiss your mouth until we’re both rock hard and then go jump naked in the snow.”

Kyler laughed.

“I’m hot enough to melt the entire fucking town.”

Kyler laughed again, deeper and added a blush to his cheeks. “This is insane. We haven’t moved.”

“The truck hasn’t moved. I’ve moved about ten times just trying to keep the zipper from scarring my dick.”

Kyler burst out laughing. “I know the feeling.” His cock felt like it was trying to get free, pushing and pushing and pushing at the zipper.

“There’s a joke in here somewhere.” Seamus sat back. “Two guys sitting in a car …” He paused.

“And?”

“And … I got nothing. Blood loss.” Seamus grinned. He rubbed a hand over his face. “Okay. I’m going to start the truck and take you home.”

“That’s been the plan.” Kyler took his lower lip between his teeth.

“I know. It’s a good plan.” Seamus stayed where he was. “A smart plan. Very smart.” Seamus’s head fell back against the head rest. “Please, tell my penis it’s a smart plan.”

Kyler snorted, feeling goofy and horny and despite the ache in his balls he was still having a good time.

Seamus reached out and laid his hand on Kyler’s thigh. “Tell me to stop.” He closed his eyes and slid his hand to Kyler’s crotch, squeezing it until they both groaned. “Tell me to stop, Kyler.”

“Okay.” But he didn’t want Seamus to stop. He wanted him to reach inside his pants and stroke him. He wanted to know how a man stroked another man besides watching some bad porn when Sebastian left his computer at work and Kyler was brave enough to ‘borrow’ it for the night.

“Say it.” Seamus still had his eyes closed, head back, hand on Kyler’s crotch.

“We should stop.” Kyler whispered. They really, really should.

“Right.” Seamus took a deep breath and lifted his hand under Kyler’s sweater to the rim of his pants. “Say it again.”

Kyler glanced at Seamus who wasn’t even looking at him.

Seamus popped the top button. “Kyler. Again.” He grabbed the zipper and eased it down. “Kyler.”

He’d forgotten his own fucking name. “I … you …” His mouth opened, but instantly closed when Seamus slipped his hand inside his pants and took hold of his cock. “Fuck.” The word burst out as strong fingers wrapped around Kyler’s dick. His hips thrust up, sending him slightly slouched. It gave Seamus better access. Kyler glanced at the other man who stared at the ceiling like he was fascinated by something up there. Seamus gripped Kyler’s shaft delicately and then slid down to the base. “Jesus!”

“You’re killing my control.”

What control? What was that word? What were words? Kyler’s head fell back and his hips jerked. Seamus began stroking his cock with a tight grip. Each stroke made Kyler gasp and then moan and then sputter. Seamus knew was he was doing. The girl he’d been with had been clueless and fucking hell, he was going to come already. Kyler lifted his hips in tune with Seamus’ strokes. “I-I …” He tried to talk, really, he did, but words were hard and talking was hard and he was hard. Kyler’s balls were already drawn up tight despite the cold January around them. Fuck, Kyler couldn’t believe he was sitting in a truck in a parking lot with Seamus’s hand in his pants. Seamus slid his hand up and down. Up and down. Up and down. Fuck! Kyler came. He jerked his hips up and came in an embarrassing groan. Jizz sputtered out of his slit and ran down Seamus’s hand like a river. “Yes. Oh, fuck. Yes. Yeah. Mmmm.” He fell back to the seat with Seamus’s hand still wrapped around his dick like he was driving a stick shift on a winding icy road. “Holy shit.”

Seamus was looking at him now. Those green eyes intense and almost guilty looking. Why did Seamus feel guilty for giving his date a handjob?