Letting the toes slip from between his lips, Vic blew on them to cool the saliva that glistened on Matt’s skin, then licked the arch of Matt’s foot. He caught a solid image in the forefront of Matt’s mind, himself crawling up Matt’s legs and pushing open the bathrobe to bite at the jockstrap. Matt was playing out a fantasy behind those closed eyes, in which Vic peeled off that jockstrap with his teeth, his tongue rimming hidden flesh that hadn’t known another’s touch in years. What a delicious thought. “I could start here,” Vic murmured, nipping at the tender skin on the underside of Matt’s foot and making his friend squirm with sudden desire, “and eat my way up. What do you think?”
The hand not holding the coffee mug drifted down to Matt’s waist and squeezed the bulge already there. “I think we need to take this back into the bedroom, muscle man.”
Vic frowned. “Why do you say that?”