Brett’s breath is hot and feathery along Johnny’s inner thigh. “Turn over,” he says as he stands. “You want to do this?”
Johnny lies on his back a moment, his heart racing, his blood on fire. “Yes.”
“I’m not your first, am I?”
There’s a worried furrow in Brett’s brow that smoothes out at Johnny’s quick laugh. “God, no. Just fuck me already, will you?”
Brett grins. “For this, your photos are free.”
“You don’t have to,” Johnny says. “I’ve got money—”
But Brett leans over him and silences him with a kiss. “I want to.” His hand brushes over one pert nipple and Johnny shivers with delight. “Maybe it’ll entice you to come back.”
“I haven’t come yet,” Johnny points out.
Brett’s hand drifts to his crotch, where it closes over Johnny’s tender cockhead. With a gentle tweak, he purrs, “Let’s remedy that.”