SO THE NIGHT WASN’T GOING exactly as Ryan had planned.
Okay. Amend that. The night wasn’t going at all as he had planned.
If he was honest with himself, things had started to unravel on the drive down from Dallas. Three hours in an enclosed space with Z wasn’t something Ryan looked forward to, but then again, he wasn’t much for inserting himself into a situation that offered so much…temptation. Being that close to Z, listening to the seductive tone of his voice as Z rambled on and on about nothing and anything, hearing him sing—which surprisingly he was quite good at—and laugh and be witty and funny and… Well, it had left Ryan a little anxious when they’d finally arrived in Coyote Ridge.
It hadn’t helped much when they’d hit town to find out that all the hotels in the area were booked solid, mostly due to Braydon and Jessie’s wedding tomorrow. He’d actually been trying to figure out what they were going to do about accommodations for the night when Travis had informed him they had plenty of available rooms at the resort.
Alluring Indulgence Resort.
A sex resort.
Ryan hadn’t known what to say, which Travis had taken as Ryan’s agreement, and now here they were.
To make matters worse, they’d had to get a ride with Zane and V—V was one of the designated drivers for the evening since she was pregnant and all—because Ryan and Z, as well as Zane, had imbibed a little too much.
So, after checking in at the front desk, handing over his credit card to cover both rooms because Z was nearly passed out in a chair nearby, Ryan had managed to help Z up to his room with every intention of sneaking out as soon as the door opened.
Why he was still there… Well, because he apparently wasn’t good at resisting temptation no matter how bad for him it was.
After unceremoniously dumping Z onto the bed, Ryan took a step back, needing to put as much space between them as he could.
“Don’t leave,” Z muttered, rolling onto his back on the huge king bed that took up a majority of the room.
“I have to,” Ryan explained. “I’ve gotta get some sleep or I’ll be useless tomorrow.”
“Sleep here,” Z whispered, his eyes open and focused on Ryan’s face.
For an instant, Ryan could almost believe Z was stone-cold sober.
“Go to sleep, Z,” Ryan instructed, walking over to the bed.
His intention had been to pull the blanket over Z and wait until he passed out, but in the next instant, he was no longer on his feet but rather on his back, and Z’s mouth was covering his.
Oh, fucking hell.
Warning bells clanged loudly in his head, telling him this was a bad idea. Very bad.
Alcohol and Z did not mix well.
But the man could kiss.
Maybe it was the fact that his inhibitions were lowered thanks to the alcohol, or possibly because he hadn’t had sex in… Fuck, he couldn’t think about that now. Whatever it was keeping him pliant beneath Z’s big, beautiful body, Ryan couldn’t pull himself away, couldn’t convince his fight-or-flight instinct that this was a time for flight.
Instead, Ryan found himself lost in the kiss.
Z’s mouth was warm and supple and quite skilled for a man in his current state, which made it damn near impossible for Ryan to think straight. He only made matters worse when his arms wrapped around Z’s neck—involuntarily, he was sure—pulling him closer as he thrust his tongue into Z’s mouth.
He could taste the beer Z had had, along with a hint of licorice from the Jeigermeister shots he’d been downing most of the night in an attempt to outdrink Beau Bennett—which he’d done, surprisingly. Not that Ryan agreed that had been a good use of Z’s time, but it had been hard to argue when Z had been in such a good mood.
When Z’s hand snaked beneath Ryan’s shirt, he tried to pull away, but even he had to admit the attempt was only half-assed. He wanted Z to touch him, to taste him, to give him everything he’d dreamed about for the past few years.
“Ryan,” Z moaned, lifting his head and staring down at him. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long.”
Before he could argue, push Z away, make some excuse as to why they shouldn’t do this, Ryan pulled Z back down to him, crushing their mouths together as his hands slipped beneath the T-shirt Z wore. He kneaded Z’s strong back, pulling him close as Ryan switched their positions, rolling them over so that Ryan was in charge. Grinding his cock against Z’s through the denim of his jeans only exacerbated his need, making him desperate.
Then Z’s hands were fumbling with the button on Ryan’s jeans, popping it free while Ryan lifted his hips, giving him better access. He should’ve jumped off the bed and headed to his own room, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. And he couldn’t even blame the alcohol, because Ryan hadn’t had more than a few beers over the course of the four hours they had been at Moonshiners.
When Z’s big fist wrapped around Ryan’s cock, he groaned aloud, the pleasure making him light-headed.
“Fuck,” he whispered as he drove his hips forward, pushing his cock into Z’s hand. “Don’t stop.”
“I don’t plan to,” Z said, peering down their bodies to where his hand was jacking Ryan’s dick.
When their eyes met once again, Ryan could see the need in Z’s eyes. He wanted this, but Ryan knew they shouldn’t. No matter how good Z’s touch felt.
“Don’t overthink this,” Z insisted, rolling them so that Ryan was flat on the bed once again, Z’s feet touching the floor as he leaned over Ryan and…
“Sonuvabitch!” Ryan’s head tilted back, his hips driving forward as Z took his cock into his mouth, sucking him to the root. “Z… Fuck… Oh, fuck…”
Ryan could hardly catch his breath. The pleasure assaulted him, the equivalent of being hit by a jet plane at warp speed, knocking the air from his lungs as his eyes crossed.
“You like that?” Z asked, his mouth relinquishing Ryan’s cock briefly.
“Yeah,” he groaned.
Understatement. Of. The. Century.
Z’s tongue laved the underside of Ryan’s dick, sending shockwaves of sensation through him. He wanted more; he wanted everything…and he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop this.
So, for tonight, Ryan put himself in Z’s capable hands.
And tomorrow he would worry about the consequences of his own actions.
Z COULDN’T HELP BUT WONDER whether he was awake or dreaming. He wasn’t nearly as intoxicated as he’d been an hour ago, but he had kept that tidbit of information to himself. As much as he wanted to get his hands on RT, he’d figured pretending had been the best way to get RT to relent.
And relent he had.
Working RT’s dick with his lips and tongue, Z pushed him closer to the edge, the man’s moans making Z’s cock throb behind the zipper of his jeans. RT was fucking beautiful. His cock exquisite, long and thick, curving slightly to the left. Z wanted to suck RT for hours, to memorize every ridge.
While he continued to blow RT, watching the sensual expression contort his handsome features, Z managed to remove RT’s jeans and boots, along with his own. There was no way in hell he was allowing this moment to pass him by. If RT was willing—and he definitely was—then Z was going to make his move. He’d fantasized about this for far too long.
Standing tall, Z yanked his T-shirt up and over his head before joining RT on the bed once more, kneeling between RT’s legs as he claimed his mouth. RT’s kiss was quite possibly the most intense thing Z had ever felt in his life. It might appear they were about to embark on a memorable one-night stand, but for Z, it was so much more than that.
Forcing RT’s shirt up, he managed to get him completely naked, settling over him once more and ravishing his mouth, his hand sliding through the golden silk of RT’s hair while he held him still to stake his claim.
“I want you,” Z whispered, trailing his lips over the rough stubble on RT’s cheek. “So fucking bad.”