Take It Off Read Online Free Page B

perfect time. Perfectly rhythmic. Perfectly calculated. And absolute torture.
    Jared sat up again, reached back, and held onto Tristan’s hips as he pressed his back against Tristan’s chest. He lifted both feet up, the laces dangling from his boots, and toed them off. Then his socks. All the while pressing against, rubbing against, grinding against Tristan.
    Hands still on Tristan’s thighs, Jared lifted himself up a little. Tristan relaxed somewhat, thinking he’d just been granted some breathing room, but Jared had other plans. Room to breathe? No. Room to move . Keeping his palms flat on Tristan’s legs, Jared continued to dance on him, kept lifting up, then leaning back, then lifting up again, sometimes touching and sometimes just making Tristan watch.
    “More.” Rolex panted. “More. Take . . . take off the belt.”
    “With pleasure.”
    Oh shit. Jared didn’t even demand more money, and that grin in his voice said Tristan hadn’t even begun to know what “torture” really meant.
    Jared got up and turned around. He put one leg over Tristan’s. Then the other. Straddling him. Tristan had the most tantalizing view of nearly everything Jared had to offer: that gorgeous chest, those amazing abs, not to mention that very pronounced erection all wrapped up in slick black leather.
    Their eyes met. Jared’s were hot with lust, and there it was, that gleam of raw desire Tristan had seen the first time. Tristan’s heart skipped. He very nearly reached for Jared’s face to draw him into a kiss, but then Jared grinned and it was back to strictly business.
    Jared leaned back. Way back. He must’ve had his ankles hooked around the legs of the chair. Something. Somehow, he balanced perfectly, his torso almost horizontal. His abs were taut with the exertion of holding himself like that, his legs pressing hard against Tristan’s lap, and Tristan couldn’t fucking breathe.
    Rolex cleared his throat. “The belt. Take it off.”
    “Don’t rush me.” Jared looked right at Tristan. “There’s a method to my madness.” His hands materialized on Tristan’s calves, and Tristan’s heart pounded as Jared ran them up. Down. Up again. In a smooth, fluid motion, they went from Tristan’s legs to his own hips, drawing a curving path over his cock— yeah, Tristan, you see how hard I am —before coming back up to his belt buckle. His abs were quivering now, his leg muscles rock hard over the tops of Tristan’s thighs, and the cords in his neck stood out slightly as he continued to hold himself in that perfectly balanced position.
    He unbuckled his belt, then tugged it free, leather hissing over leather as it slid out of the loops. Without breaking eye contact with Tristan, he dropped his belt, and then pulled himself up using only his legs and his toned abs. He wrapped those legs around Tristan and the back of the chair, pressing their clothed cocks together, and then kissed Tristan hard.
    “ I’m not usually a kisser, ” Tristan had said to Jared a while back. “ But the johns like it. A lot. ”
    “ Do they? ” Jared had grinned, and hadn’t hesitated to kiss since then.
    For the johns. Because the johns liked it. Jared was doing this for Rolex. Just for the john. But Tristan indulged anyway, tangling his tongue with Jared’s and kissing him like he meant it, because fuck it, he did. As deeply, passionately, intimately as he could without breaking the rules and taking his hands off the chair.
    “That is fucking amazing,” Rolex breathed. “Holy shit.”
    My sentiments exactly.
    Jared broke the kiss. For a split second, he looked breathless and flustered, and it was sweet, shy Jared holding Tristan’s gaze. Then his eyes narrowed as he swept his tongue across his lips. “Only one thing left. Just the trousers.” His grin made Tristan’s heart pound even harder, especially when he added, “Better make it count.”
    Tristan tried so hard to clear his head, just enough to regain control of the money