Jacob Stine, one of the owners of the town’s bakery, has wanted Race Carroway since the moment they first met much to the amusement of his best friend Kyle. Despite the obvious tension between them he’s always assumed that the hunky mechanic would never be interested in him. Jacob’s contented himself with admiring Race from a distance until the day he’s forced to call him for help.
When the encounter turns steamy and then ends with Race running off without an explanation Jacob is torn between hurt and confusion. He has to make the decision between finally moving on and trusting Race with one more chance. Will the baker have what it takes to get his man?
The wet heat of his mouth was almost torturous, and Jacob scrambled to find something to hold on to. His hands skated over the top of Race’s buzzed hair for a moment before he forced them away to claw at the wood behind him. Race reached up and grabbed one of Jacob’s hands, placing it on the back of his own head and pressing in silent permission.
Jacob felt his heart skip a beat, but then it was back to racing hard and fast in his chest as he cupped the back of Race’s head in his palm and gave a short, shallow thrust of his hips. Race hummed low in his throat, and the vibration sent chills down Jacob’s spine. He pushed forward harder, forced his cock farther down Race’s throat. Race swallowed, and Jacob couldn’t help himself after that.
His free hand went up to clutch at his own hair as he used the other to maneuver Race on his cock. One minute he pressed in deep, could feel the heat of Race’s breath on his hair and his tongue lapping at his base, and then he would pull him back, let him suckle at the head for a second before doing it all over again. Jacob was intoxicated by the very idea of having Race, strong muscular Race, even a tiny bit under his control, even when it was painfully obvious that Race allowed it to happen.
He’d been so on edge around Race for so long that he knew he wasn’t going to last long, couldn’t last long, not with the way Race sucked him hard and fast and then soft and slow. Not with the way Race took him deep and hummed around his shaft, only to pull back and lave the head of his cock with his tongue. Jacob could feel it building, could feel his balls drawing up and tightening, and the hand on the back of Race’s head moved to his shoulder to push frantically in warning.
Race’s mouth came off of his cock with an obscene noise and then his hands were in its place, trailing up and down his shaft, stroking him fast and confident as his thumb flirted with his slit.
“Come on, Jacob. Want to see you. Been wanting to see you for months.” Race practically crooned at him, and the sight of him there, normally taciturn and dour-looking Race on his knees, eyes blown wide from desire and lips red from sucking his cock, was too much for Jacob. His eyes slammed closed of their own accord, and he felt the orgasm punch its way through his body as he spilled over the tight circle of Race’s finger while Race continued to croon at him almost sweetly.
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