Tossing the pillow from under his head to the floor, Sean wanted to crawl out of his skin. The clock next to his bed read 2:03, and he couldn’t force Isaiah’s words out of his head. Not only did he ache for the touch of his ex’s skin against his, his damned dick wouldn’t go down. The thing throbbed worse than a toothache. It blew his mind; the very thing Isaiah asked for was something he longed to give him. The proof hovered over his stomach, dripping into his navel. If he thought it would do any good, he would jack off. But a simple hand job wouldn’t slate his desire to be fucked raw. Of all his regrets concerning what happened ten years ago, hiding his desire to feel Isaiah’s cock in his ass was the biggest. He’d never told his lover about the dreams where he woke covered in sweat and needing release because he’d wanted the other man to ride him long and hard. Now his little chef wanted to top him in bed—a dream come true. He didn’t care if humiliation was Isaiah’s goal or not.
