and was forced to pull his lips away as he turned Morgan into his bedroom.
Morgan took in the space that looked to be twice the size of his own bedroom. A dark cherry, king-sized sleigh bed covered in a burgundy comforter was centered against a wall. Windows running from floor to ceiling revealed a view overlooking Lake Michigan.
Julian placed his hand on Morgan’s cheek, guiding his gaze back to him. “I want you to know, this isn’t something I do Keys to Love 85
regularly. I don’t bring men home because I never know who I can trust. The last thing I need is to end up with a stalker who knows exactly where I live.”
Morgan laid his hand over Julian’s. “Then I’m glad you trust me.” A wry smile quirked his lips. “Especially since even though I’ve admired your music for a long time, and I’m a roadie on your tour, and I spent over thirty thousand dollars to be with you, I’m not at all mental or a stalker.”
Julian chuckled. “Well, when you put it like that…”
Morgan laughed with him.
Julian looked into his eyes, shining with affection and humor, and knew he could trust Morgan implicitly.
Morgan brushed Julian’s hair to the side of his forehead, his gaze following the movement. “I will say, though, I’ve wanted a moment like this with you for a very long time.”
Julian placed his other hand on Morgan’s chest. “And I’ve wanted it since I first saw you.”
Morgan bowed his head to him. As their lips met, Julian felt the difference in Morgan’s kiss. Where earlier it was filled with starved passion, now it was tender. With every glide of Morgan’s tongue over his, Julian melted. All the men he’d kissed, none had ever done it with such warmth.
Julian slid his hands under Morgan’s tux jacket and over his broad shoulders as he guided it off. One by one, he opened the buttons on the vest, and when the last was freed, Morgan shook out of it. Julian unfastened Morgan’s pants, then gripped the white dress shirt and pulled it loose. He huffed as he unbuttoned it to find the undershirt beneath. “You have too many clothes on.”
“Lucky for me you don’t.”
Morgan drifted his hands under Julian’s shirt. His fingers explored the feel of Julian’s body as he lifted it over his head.
He dropped it and looked at him, Julian’s lean frame lightly muscled, his fair skin catching the moonlight streaming through 86 S.J. Frost
the windows. He touched his fingertips to the center of Julian’s collarbone and bought his touch slowly down Julian’s smooth chest, traveling lower to his firm abdomen. As he reached the top of Julian’s leather pants, he lifted his other hand to open them.
Julian pushed Morgan’s dress shirt off, then raised the undershirt. He stood back, staring at the beautiful body before him. Morgan’s medium build was covered in thick musculature.
Hair dusted his chest; his abdomen was cut in deep grooves. His biceps looked powerful even at rest, cords of sinew shifted in his forearms with each movement. If Julian were to design the body of a man he wanted, he couldn’t have come as close to Morgan’s perfection.
Julian grabbed Morgan’s pants and shoved them down. He glanced at Morgan’s defined quads and calves, but what captured his attention was the large bulge pushing against the black boxer-briefs. He touched the tip of his index finger to the top of the hard line and followed it lower.
Morgan closed his eyes; his hips swayed forward to Julian’s touch. Julian hooked his fingers over the boxer-briefs and slowly edged them down. The broad head was revealed, the slit wet.
The veined and thick shaft followed. Julian nearly swooned as he imagined what it’d feel like to have every inch of its length buried inside him. As he brought the boxer-briefs to Morgan’s thighs, he gazed at his sac, large, full, shaven, hanging in waiting for him to suck and lick at it.
Julian went to his knees. He couldn’t resist leaning in, pressing his nose to
Morgan took in the space that looked to be twice the size of his own bedroom. A dark cherry, king-sized sleigh bed covered in a burgundy comforter was centered against a wall. Windows running from floor to ceiling revealed a view overlooking Lake Michigan.
Julian placed his hand on Morgan’s cheek, guiding his gaze back to him. “I want you to know, this isn’t something I do Keys to Love 85
regularly. I don’t bring men home because I never know who I can trust. The last thing I need is to end up with a stalker who knows exactly where I live.”
Morgan laid his hand over Julian’s. “Then I’m glad you trust me.” A wry smile quirked his lips. “Especially since even though I’ve admired your music for a long time, and I’m a roadie on your tour, and I spent over thirty thousand dollars to be with you, I’m not at all mental or a stalker.”
Julian chuckled. “Well, when you put it like that…”
Morgan laughed with him.
Julian looked into his eyes, shining with affection and humor, and knew he could trust Morgan implicitly.
Morgan brushed Julian’s hair to the side of his forehead, his gaze following the movement. “I will say, though, I’ve wanted a moment like this with you for a very long time.”
Julian placed his other hand on Morgan’s chest. “And I’ve wanted it since I first saw you.”
Morgan bowed his head to him. As their lips met, Julian felt the difference in Morgan’s kiss. Where earlier it was filled with starved passion, now it was tender. With every glide of Morgan’s tongue over his, Julian melted. All the men he’d kissed, none had ever done it with such warmth.
Julian slid his hands under Morgan’s tux jacket and over his broad shoulders as he guided it off. One by one, he opened the buttons on the vest, and when the last was freed, Morgan shook out of it. Julian unfastened Morgan’s pants, then gripped the white dress shirt and pulled it loose. He huffed as he unbuttoned it to find the undershirt beneath. “You have too many clothes on.”
“Lucky for me you don’t.”
Morgan drifted his hands under Julian’s shirt. His fingers explored the feel of Julian’s body as he lifted it over his head.
He dropped it and looked at him, Julian’s lean frame lightly muscled, his fair skin catching the moonlight streaming through 86 S.J. Frost
the windows. He touched his fingertips to the center of Julian’s collarbone and bought his touch slowly down Julian’s smooth chest, traveling lower to his firm abdomen. As he reached the top of Julian’s leather pants, he lifted his other hand to open them.
Julian pushed Morgan’s dress shirt off, then raised the undershirt. He stood back, staring at the beautiful body before him. Morgan’s medium build was covered in thick musculature.
Hair dusted his chest; his abdomen was cut in deep grooves. His biceps looked powerful even at rest, cords of sinew shifted in his forearms with each movement. If Julian were to design the body of a man he wanted, he couldn’t have come as close to Morgan’s perfection.
Julian grabbed Morgan’s pants and shoved them down. He glanced at Morgan’s defined quads and calves, but what captured his attention was the large bulge pushing against the black boxer-briefs. He touched the tip of his index finger to the top of the hard line and followed it lower.
Morgan closed his eyes; his hips swayed forward to Julian’s touch. Julian hooked his fingers over the boxer-briefs and slowly edged them down. The broad head was revealed, the slit wet.
The veined and thick shaft followed. Julian nearly swooned as he imagined what it’d feel like to have every inch of its length buried inside him. As he brought the boxer-briefs to Morgan’s thighs, he gazed at his sac, large, full, shaven, hanging in waiting for him to suck and lick at it.
Julian went to his knees. He couldn’t resist leaning in, pressing his nose to
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