Avery laughs again. “You’ll get it soon enough,” he promises. “Just two more problems, Jacob. That’s it.”
Jacob thinks two more problems can wait until later. He’s been waiting long enough. Through the heavy denim of Avery’s jeans, he massages the cushiony bulge at his crotch until it’s hard and coiled like a snake ready to strike. “Jacob,” Avery warns. The name is almost a sigh.
Jacob’s not listening. His fingers seem to have a mind of their own. They flick open the button, then work the zipper down.
Avery moans Jacob’s name, lower this time. He slides a little farther down into the chair. His knees spread apart beneath the table. Jacob rubs against the front of Avery’s briefs and Avery’s knees clench together, catching Jacob’s head between them.
Jacob eases them apart again, his fingers dancing along the outlined hardness at his boyfriend’s crotch.
“Jacob.”