He found it amusing that Reese was not a morning person. Brantley’d never thought he was either, but for the past six months or so, his mornings weren’t all that bad. Certainly not since Reese had moved in with him. He found he actually looked forward to getting up in the morning. Then again, he looked forward to going to bed, too.
“You wanna go for a run?” he asked, moving up behind Reese and tossing one arm over him.
Brantley chuckled. “You think so, huh?”
“Know so … mmm.” Reese sighed. “What’re you doin’?”
“Wakin’ you up proper,” he said, sliding his lips over Reese’s lightly whiskered jaw.
“Doesn’t that require you to use your mouth for somethin’ other than talkin’?”
“What would you prefer my mouth be doin’?” Brantley teased, sliding his hand beneath the blanket and over Reese’s naked hip.
Reese’s response was a gravelly moan when Brantley slid his hand lower, finding Reese’s cock.
“I figure it’s our first New Year’s together,” Brantley mumbled against Reese’s neck. “Perfect time to start some new traditions.”
“Those traditions include your mouth on my cock?” Reese rasped, his hips beginning to pump as he fucked Brantley’s fist.
“Would you like that to be a tradition?”
“Fuck yes … Brantley.”
“Don’t stop doin’ that,” Reese breathed out. “Never stop.”
Brantley indulged him, stroking slowly, firmly, getting Reese’s blood flowing properly. Although he wouldn’t exactly call it a tradition, he wouldn’t mind waking up like this every morning.
“You wanna come?” Brantley whispered against Reese’s ear.
“Then you’re gonna cook me breakfast, right?”
Reese grunted, making Brantley chuckle.
“Eggs, bacon, pancakes. All the good stuff.”
“No fruit, no oatmeal. None of that healthy shit.”
He chuckled again, stroking faster.
He’d been keeping up the breakfast monologue as a way of distracting himself. Not an easy thing to do when he was pressed up against this sexy man, his entire body hard and aching. Last night, after spending a few hours at Moonshiners with friends and family and too much liquor, they’d both fallen into bed almost immediately rather than working off a few extra calories with sex.
“Stroke yourself,” Brantley urged, pausing.
When Reese took over, Brantley rolled to his back, grabbed the lube from the nightstand. He didn’t go far, turning back so he could watch Reese while he prepared himself to ring in the new year right.
“Lift your leg,” he encouraged.
Reese didn’t hesitate.
Nor did Brantley.
He slid into Reese, sucking in air as the tight, hot clasp of his body enveloped him.
“Gettin’ there,” he said with a laugh.
Reese groaned, his hand gripping Brantley’s thigh.
Evidently he was no longer focused on himself, so Brantley did the honors, reaching down, fisting Reese’s cock while he pumped his hips. He’d intended to go slow, to ease them into the morning but as was always the case, he couldn’t hold back.
Releasing Reese’s cock, Brantley gripped the man’s leg, lifting it so he could change the angle, driving in deep, punching his hips forward until their combined groans were echoing in the bedroom.
“Fuck, Reese. So fuckin’ tight. I’m gonna—”
“Brantley? Hey, you plannin’ to spend all day in bed or what?”
Suddenly, the warm body faded, vanishing like smoke. He became aware of the bed, the blankets, the light streaming in through the windows.
“I’m makin’ pancakes,” Reese announced. “Like you requested last night. Unless you want somethin’ else.”
Brantley forced his eyes open, groaned when he realized he’d been dragged out of one hell of a dream.
“Up and at ‘em,” Reese called out. “Breakfast’ll be ready in five.”
“Son of a bitch.”
So not the way he’d wanted to kick off the first day of the new year.