The 51st Thursday Read Online Free PDF

"He's still pissed that I quit my job at the law firm. My long hair is a disgrace, my clothes too. I dress like a bum since I burned all the goddamned suits. I won't move back to Montgomery so he can yank me a new hole. Name your poison."
    "That you're gay isn't going to go over very well, is it?"
    "No." He didn't deny it this time. Shelby Bainbridge, former championship quarterback and future first son, liked men. Shame was written all over his face.
    "Am I really your first?" He didn't know why he held his breath.
    "Yes. There were tests, like you said. Shower temptations. Drunken frat parties. But I never met someone I wanted enough to throw everything away for. Listen, don't take that wrong. I was weak, this isn't going to go anywhere so don't think I--"
    "I goaded you into it, Thursday, because I'm a selfish prick. You were an easy mark and I wanted to get laid. Whatever gets you through the night, no big deal to me." Deacon lied to himself. It was a big deal.
    "Okay, so that we're square."
    "Since we're being honest, Thursday, you really should know that before this night is over, I am going to fuck you. Hard, and long, and nasty. Just so we're square."
    Shelby's jaw clenched. His eyes turned hard and then he looked away. The candlelight flickering turned his skin a golden color that Deacon found way too attractive while thinking about the things he wanted to do to the man's ass.
    "All right." His voice was steady, husky. Deacon almost didn't believe his ears, but the lust shimmering in his eyes when he looked at him spoke volumes. "Can I catch a shower before you run out of hot water? It's been a long day."
    "Yeah, sure, go ahead." Deacon watched as he walked away, trying to concentrate on the book and not the shirt falling to the floor or the hard plane of his back, but the words were just specks on the page.
    Shelby disappeared into the bathroom before he stripped out of his jeans. The door pushed closed but didn't click and within seconds, Deacon heard the shower come on. Temptation was behind a partially closed door. Naked, hot, muscled, wet temptation, calling to him, no, screaming for him to come inside. To take what he wanted.
    Deacon tried to ignore the screaming in his brain. Funny, he never knew just how much sound came from his bathroom. Water falling on skin, the bottle of shampoo hitting the floor. He could smell the steam and soap. His skin prickled, pulled tight. The book hit the floor and before he realized what he was doing, he stood inside the concrete room, his hand resting on the knob, while he watched water slide down Thursday's body, soap bubbles cascading from his hair down his chest.
    As he watched, Thursday's cock grew long and rigid; his eyes seemed to glow with helpless need following him as Deacon stripped out of his jeans and walked the few short paces into the open shower. "Hand me the soap," was all he could think to say just before he touched his lips to Thursday's, and then he didn't say anything for a long time.
    He took the soap bar and wrapped his arms around him, swallowing the whimper that escaped as he touched his tongue to Thursday's. He let him lead this time, the soft kisses inflaming him in a way that left his knees weak.
    Deacon lathered smooth skin, running his hands over each muscle, then moving to the front to start at his shoulders. He lathered and caressed his way down Thursday's body, stopping only when he found the hottest, throbbing part of his body. He cupped him, running his hand between his legs until his sac drew tight. Soft moans escaped Thursday's mouth as Deacon stroked his long cock, soaping it until his hand slid easily up and down him. He didn't notice when Shelby took the soap from him and repeated his every move until they were both slick with lather and need.
    "Lift your leg," Deacon told him as he pushed him against the wall and pressed his cock hard against his, humping him. The soapy friction where their cocks touched was almost more than he could