Lyle sucked in a breath, closed his eyes, and tried to recall every sound his bed, floor, and room made that might give away what they were up to. You’re an adult,his head told his body, I’m pretty sure he knows what you could get up to
But my father, his conscience screamed,is right! Down! Stairs!
His voice shook when he finally pulled his senses together to respond, “No, youstop.” He squeezed Rafe’s ass, pulling Rafe into every press his hips insisted on, all but crushing Rafe’s hand between them each time.
Between the milliseconds of freedom Rafe’s fingers had, Rafe fumbled for Lyle’s button and fly. “I couldn’t even if I wanted to,” Rafe said.
Lyle pushed against Rafe again, Rafe’s fingers were caught yet again, and Rafe chuckled, gave up trying to undo Lyle’s pants, and just shoved his hand inside them. He seemed to taste the low groan that Lyle gave as Rafe wound his fingers around Lyle’s rigid cock—parting his lips, closing his eyes, and drawing the sound into him.