It’s Micah who finally takes the bull by the horns and approaches Byron, making the good doctor an offer he doesn’t want to refuse. It might have taken the men a year to get to their first date, but they seem intent on making up for lost time.
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“So, until tonight then?” Micah said.
Dr. Hamilton looked over at him, then at the heavy gold watch. “I deserve a fifteen-minute break, I think. You still interested in sealing the deal?”
Micah’s blood started flowing faster. “I am, Byron.” He did like the way the man’s name tasted on his tongue, would Byron’s mouth taste as good?
“Well, then. I suggest taking the bull by the horns, so to speak.”
Micah’s eyebrows rose. For a man who’d never said anything for a year, Byron was pretty eager. Maybe the man hadn’t realized they both swung the same way -- not everyone read signals. He stepped forward and took Byron’s face in his hands, tilting it slightly, and brought their mouths together.
Byron’s lips were soft, warm, the kiss gentle and tentative, almost chaste. Hardly the kind of kiss to seal a deal on. Micah pressed harder against Byron’s lips, his tongue sliding along the place where they met, asking to be allowed in. The moan that pushed into his lips was heated, rough, a complete surprise from the retiring, gentle man. Those lips parted, the doctor letting him in, letting him taste.
One hand sliding down to touch Byron’s neck, to feel the rapid tattoo of Byron’s pulse, Micah deepened the kiss. Once allowed in, his tongue swept through Byron’s mouth, exploring the white, even teeth, playing with Byron’s tongue, teasing it into response.
It was like a dam breaking, the way Byron pushed close, joined into the kiss with a need that had Micah’s toes curling, his belly tight as a board. His mouth filled with Byron’s flavor: cinnamon and nutmeg with cloves, spicy and sweet at the same time.
He made no move to end it, his tongue playing with Byron’s, his fingers stroking the warm neck, his body growing tighter, needier the longer it went on. He couldn’t remember the last time a kiss had made him lose his head like this. Of course, he’d been looking for months now: waiting, wanting to see that controlled son of a bitch spread out on his sheets, bent over a saddle, hands and knees on the hay.
Groaning, Micah tilted Byron’s head further back, tongue pushing deeper, lower body pressing closer. Oh, fuck. That pretty cock was right there, hard and hot in those thin-as-shit slacks. He started rubbing, going way farther than he’d ever intended this kiss to go, but his body was leading him, pulling him along, and Byron wasn’t doing anything to slow him down. No sir.
“Boss? You want me to saddle Charger up for... Oh.”
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