Con looked over in time to see Devon get to his feet. Their gazes clashed. Devon pulled his pajama pants down and his cock sprang free. It was hard and already dripping with precome. Con continued to stare as Devon kicked his pants free and sat back down, one hand wrapped tight around his cock. When Devon’s smile came, something deep inside Con stirred the way it always did when they played this particular game.

Tearing his gaze away from Devon, Con turned his attention back to the woman draped over him like a warm, silky blanket. He pushed the wild mane of Tory’s hair to one side and kissed...