Van’s torn between going back to law school to finish his degree or staying the fifth partner in The Fantastic Five. He loves restoring old action figures, and the one he’s working on is special. He finishes the work, wishing the decision before him was as easy as the football games he used to play. When he’s awakened in the middle of the night, instead of the intruder he expected, he finds his action figure has come to life and brought with him a whole new set of complications.
Brice knows the key to Van’s decision lies inside him. All he has to do is follow his heart. But getting a lawyer to trust his emotions is about as easy as making first down on fourth and twenty. It’s a mission Brice will gladly accept. Because once the pass is completed, it’s an easy touchdown.
“About time you came to me.” The enticing male voice came from in front of him, though the thick steam from the shower made it hard to see.
Van blinked and fastened the towel around his waist.
“You don’t have to do that. I liked seeing you naked.” The steam cleared enough for Van to see the man sitting on the bench, a towel loosely draped around his hips. Better than anything Van might have imagined, the dream man sat obviously aroused.
Van stared. He was dreaming. He knew he was dreaming, vaguely remembered pizza, beer, and his favorite football movie once he had returned from the shop. Then, he’d fallen into bed hoping that Adrian was right that tomorrow would be a better day.
It seemed his night might be getting better. He reached for the knot in the towel at his waist. If he couldn’t have something like this happen in real life, then he figured it might as well occur in his dreams. And, from the way the man let his towel open, revealing muscled thighs and a thick, hard cock, it was going to be quite the dream.
The man sat with one foot braced on the bench, his other foot on the floor. Reaching between his legs, he cupped his balls, then stroked his hard shaft. Dark curls surrounded the base, leading to a tapered arrow that led to his navel. A dusting of brown hair covered his chest, creating enticing topography between the man’s pecs. The man’s face, with full, sensuous lips and thick brown hair that begged Van to run his fingers through it, was as gorgeous as his body.
Van took an involuntary step forward. His towel fell, sliding to the ground with nary a sound. “Who are you?” $He’s a dream man. Don’t ask his name, just fuck him!$ Van fought against laughing at his mental chastisement. His dick throbbed. Full and hard, it rose so high it nearly touched his navel. He cupped it, tugging on his balls to postpone the release roaring in his blood.
“Brice,” the dream man answered. The name suited him. “And I think, Counsel, that you need to suck my dick.”
Van stared slack-jawed at him. How did this dream man… that’s right, he was $dreaming. Nothing like this could ever happen in real life. He stared at the cock in question, noting the drop of fluid on the tip, the crisp smell of clean man. He strode forward. “You do? What makes you think I want to give you a blow job?” He dropped to one knee, bringing himself nearly eye-level with the magnificent specimen of male flesh. Reaching for it, he stroked his fingers along the underside.
The man groaned. “Because you’re hard and your mouth is watering.” Brice cupped his balls, lifting himself toward Van. “You want it. You know you do.”
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