Inevitable - Briar Prescott Page 0,3

drowning out all other thoughts except Ezra. Their elbows touched as they removed their shoes in the narrow hallway.

Ezra gave a low whistle as he walked in.

“Nice,” he said as he shrugged out of his jacket.

Drew had no idea what he was talking about. All he could see was Ezra. Their surroundings didn’t matter at all.

“We never got that drink,” Drew said. “Do you want one?”

“How about we skip all the bullshit and just get to the good stuff?” Ezra was still walking around. Exploring. He stopped in front of the window, taking a glance outside into the darkness.

“The good stuff?” Drew asked. The sparks in his brain were crackling loudly, making his ears ring.

Ezra turned toward him and rolled his eyes yet again. “Fucking. Isn’t that why you brought me here?” He slid his palm over the windowsill. Drew wished it were his skin instead.

Drew moved closer. Fingertips trailed over the back of Ezra’s hand, the sparks he’d felt earlier growing more intense by the second. He stilled his hand but didn’t move it away from Ezra’s skin, enjoying the heat and the feel of him. Ezra leaned into the touch. Stopped. Gave a huff. Pulled back a bit. God, the man was like an alley cat, starved for affection but so damn prickly that he probably scared away most people who came into contact with him.

Ezra kept his gaze on their connected hands for a moment before he looked up again. Apprehension sharpened Ezra’s features. But below it, rapidly hurtling toward the surface, there was also desire.

Another step closer. This time by Ezra.

Hands wrapped around Drew’s waist. Strong and sure. There was no hesitation as Ezra erased the last few inches that separated the two of them.

Like wildfires, it started with a spark, but then it took off, and fuck, did it take off. In seconds, Ezra’s hands were in Drew’s hair, tugging him closer. Drew’s palms cupped Ezra’s ass, crushing their bodies together. Their angles and planes fitted seamlessly. Clicked into place. Held them steady. Easy. Natural. Right.

Drew closed his eyes, sinking into the kiss. He buried his fingers into Ezra’s shirt, holding it in his fists to stop himself from floating away.

They pushed closer and closer. Ezra’s palms slid over Drew’s back. Burrowed under his shirt. Skin against skin.

Ezra’s heart was pounding against Drew’s, filling in the silences between Drew’s heartbeats. A dialogue of sorts. Thump, Drew’s heart said. Thump, Ezra’s replied.

The kiss expanded between them until Drew’s whole body was tingling in anticipation. Turned the fuck on was an understatement for how he was feeling. His need was so intense that Drew could hardly stop himself from dropping down on the floor of the living room, letting Ezra have his way with him.

“Do these fancy digs come with a bed?” The mocking undercurrent was still there, but it was barely detectable now, drowned in desire.

“I’m sure I saw one earlier.”

They tumbled toward it. Drew couldn’t seem to keep his mouth away from Ezra. They moved until the backs of Ezra’s knees knocked against the bed.

He glanced behind himself before he looked at Drew. He lifted his brow and threw himself on the bed.

He looked relaxed. The complete opposite of how Drew was feeling.

“Strip.” He lifted his chin toward Drew.

“What?” Drew asked with a laugh.

He got an arched brow in response.

“Strip,” Ezra repeated. “I wanna see.”

Drew pulled his tie off and started unbuttoning his shirt.

“Shouldn’t you be getting out the dollar bills to stuff in my jockstrap?” he asked as he shrugged the shirt off.

“Do you have a jockstrap on?” Ezra looked intrigued.

Drew pushed his pants down.

“Sorry to disappoint.”

Ezra shrugged.

“I prefer you naked anyway.”

He let his eyes slide over Drew.

“Your suit didn’t do you justice,” he said.

“Is that a good thing?”

Ezra sat up and scooched to the edge of the bed. He slid his palms over Drew’s abdomen. Casually brushed against the head of Drew’s cock. Leaned closer. Drew could feel Ezra’s hot breath against his skin. He had to close his eyes for a moment to compose himself.

Ezra was still wearing dark jeans and a black T-shirt, both of them molding to his body like a second skin. Drew admired the view for a second, but the observation was short, the decision unanimous—the clothes had to go. The T-shirt went first, and jeans followed, and the little odds and ends like socks and Drew’s watch were the last to go, but then finally—finally—there were no obstacles between them.

For a moment they just stared at each