Nope, last night, they’d made it clear to Diesel what he’d done.
And how much it meant to them.
So yeah, he’d freaked.
But he hadn’t pulled away.
He had not pulled away.
And now Maddox had to waste no time making certain he stayed the course.
He walked the coffee back to the bedroom and went directly to the bathroom.
Like usual, on autopilot, D had gotten up, slopped himself through a shower and was now bent over the sink, wet hair slicked back with fingers, not a comb, wearing a pair of black boxer briefs, his toothbrush in his mouth.
Regardless of the shower, his blue eyes were dazed and vacant.
He had not yet been caffeinated.
This was his habit. Done by rote. If it wasn’t the weekend, he got the getting ready shit done so he could focus entirely, dressed and good to go, on caffeine before he got behind the wheel of a car.
His gaze lifted groggily to Maddox as Maddox moved in with the mug.
Mad was also showered, his hair drying. He’d put on his briefs and jeans, but hadn’t yet pulled on one of the branded polos he wore to work every day.
Which was probably why D’s eyes dropped to his chest.
They went instantly to the mug as Maddox slid it on the counter beside the basin and it lay testimony to the depth of D’s morning haze that he didn’t looked shocked, seeing as Maddox had never brought him a mug of coffee after his shower their entire relationship.
He wasn’t going to make a habit of it.
But that morning, he was on a mission.
He leaned the side of his hip against the counter, crossed his arms on his chest and watched as D spit, rinsed, splashed some water on his face then ran the long fingers of his big hands through his hair, slicking it back again.
When he wiped his face with a towel and started to straighten away, his attention on the mug of coffee, Maddox made his move.
He shifted in, murmuring, “Mornin’, bud,” his hand to D’s tight abs, his intention through the trajectory of his mouth clear.
D reared back.
And Mad was ready.
He shot an arm out.
He knew he was taking advantage, D up, awake, showered, but still a total zombie.
After last night, he didn’t give a fuck.
Last night, they’d jumped great bounds in their relationship, at Diesel’s instigation.
D could make love to Maddox.
But in doing it, he never kissed him.
Playing the game for Diesel, Maddox could get permission from Molly to kiss D but D never asked for the same, or took it.
Last night, whatever was fucking with Diesel’s head had led him there, to making love to Maddox, to climaxing with him while their mouths were connected.
And that was the right path to be on.
So if Maddox had shit to do with it, and he did, they were not straying off that path.
Not again.
This was going to become habit.
He was going to get all of Diesel, give Molly all of Diesel.
And if D didn’t give it, Maddox was going to take it.
So if Maddox wanted a good morning kiss from his boy, he was going to take that too.
Catching Diesel hard at the back of his neck, he yanked his man to him and crushed his mouth down on Mad’s.
He thrust his tongue inside.
Sleep, toothpaste and Diesel.
He had tasted a lot of goodness in his life, but that right there ranked with the ones at the top.
He shifted closer to him.
Diesel’s tongue started to stroke his and Maddox felt warmth build in his stomach right before D went tight, putting pressure on to pull away.
Maddox put pressure on to hold him there.
So D jerked away, breaking the connection of their lips, if not the hold Maddox had on his neck.
Maddox yanked him back, face to face, eye to eye.
D froze, turning his head slightly so Mad couldn’t get to his mouth, muttering, “Brother.”
Maddox lifted his other hand and slid it up to his lat.
Before he could strengthen the hold, both D’s hands came to Maddox’s chest and he shoved, forcing Maddox back two steps.
They stood there, D breathing hard, his eyes now alert, wary, his body tense.
Maddox gave him a beat.
But just a beat.
Because he’d fucked around with this for four years.
And now there would be no . . .
Going . . .
Back.
He went at him, frontal attack, pressing Diesel against the basin, fisting a hand in his hair, pulling his mouth down to Mad’s.
He was able to trace the tip of his tongue along the crease of D’s lips before Diesel lurched back, arcing over the bathroom counter to get away.
Maddox was ready for him and held onto his hair at the same time he clamped an arm around his back, locking them together, chest to chest.
Diesel’s eyes flared and then Maddox was pushed backward and slammed against the wall.
Right.
They were going to do this?
He’d do this.
“Don’t got a good morning kiss for your man?” Maddox taunted.
“Fuck you,” Diesel hissed.
“Fight it, yeah, brother, fight it,” Maddox invited.
“Fuck you,” Diesel bit, straining at Maddox’s hold at the same time pushing him into the wall.
“You want me to win,” Maddox pointed out. “You always want me to win.”
“Fuck . . . you,” Diesel spat.
Maddox moved in, biting D’s lower lip like he did the night before, and in Diesel’s moment of stillness at the pain, Mad took advantage, thrusting his tongue inside, holding tight to that hair, crushing D’s lips down on his in a bruising hold.
D jerked them both away from the wall and then back into it so forcefully it felt like the wall shook, doing this to loosen Maddox’s grip on him.
It didn’t work.
But still, Maddox let go the hold on Diesel’s back, only to immediately go in at the front, past the elastic, grabbing hold of D’s dick, which was hard as granite.
Yeah.
He wanted Maddox to win.
He coaxed Diesel’s tongue in position and sucked it into his mouth.
And then . . .
The fight just left him.
Gone.
Diesel groaned, pulsing into Mad’s fist and stroking into Mad’s mouth.
Yeah.
Maddox pushed off the wall, taking Diesel across the room, and they hit the counter of the basin.
Fucking Mad’s mouth with his tongue, D pressed into him, and Christ, the man could kiss. Always could. Maddox felt that tongue everywhere.
Still going at his mouth, Diesel forced his hands to Maddox’s chest, pressing mightily as Mad strained to stay close, and the minute he got a wedge of space, Diesel broke the kiss.
Maddox tensed to go back at him.
But Diesel shifted his big body around, his arm brushing Maddox’s chest in the limited space, doing this hooking his thumbs into his underpants.
He shoved them over his ass.
This wasn’t where Maddox intended to go, the point he was trying to make.
But with his point mostly made, and Diesel’s ass bared, he thought this was excellent turn of events.
Maddox went for the drawer in the vanity that held the lube.
He grabbed it, opened the tube, dropped the cap so it bounced off the vanity onto the tiled floor and he took it to D’s crease, squeezing it liberally along the line. He tossed the tube aside, and using two fingers, spread it down and in.
A noise floated up Diesel’s chest, he gripped his cock and started jacking himself.
Maddox made short work of lubing his man, opening his own pants, freeing his hard cock, positioning, and eyes moving to the mirror, locking on D’s, he drove inside.