Six weeks later
It was Ryan’s maiden ride on Boon’s window washers seat, and they were suspended from Ryan’s roof at the level of his bedroom. The seat was designed for a man with a wider butt than Boon’s and they were snug, sitting thigh against thigh, hip against hip. Ryan had hold of the cable on the left, and he was nuzzling Boon’s neck.
“Remember, don’t look down,” Boon said. It was hard to speak over the sensations his brain was sending to his c**k. He had his arm around Ryan’s waist to steady him. He didn’t need to hold onto the other cable—never did when working.
“I’m not looking down, I’m looking at you.” Ryan’s free hand crept to the bulge where Boon’s legs met, and his fingers slid down the length of what he felt there. He found the head and squeezed. “Ooh, what’s this? It’s
