...As Dillon talked, he reached for the bottom of his shirt and pulled it over his head and off.

Even as weary as he was, David’s groin tightened at the sight of that familiar, well-muscled chest, the heat and touch of which he knew. He stopped chewing.

“Tomorrow we’ll start work. It’s possible we can make some sales here.” Their cover was as salesmen, but in code the words conveyed the message that they’d search for the source of the phosphorus and other rare elements used in the fireballs as well as for a launching station.

David knew finding these things would be a dead giveaway this planet was the bomb source. In response to diplomatic inquiries, Oragone’s Supreme Authority had denied the attacks originated there, and even the Intergalactic Council couldn’t budge them on this, but the launches continued. The fact was, unless the fireballs were shot from some undetected space vehicle, their planet was in the right trajectory and orbit to have launched them.

“Find the sons of a gun, man,” David said. As a warrior, he wanted to stop having to kill the havoc created by the incendiaries. It was unbelievable to him that their enemies didn’t seem to know they were firing on a basically dead part of the city. The more terrifying part was wondering what would happen if they ever figured that out.

As Dillon talked, his gold and amber eyes seemed to bore into David’s as he unbuckled the belt on his trousers and slid the zipper down with deliberate slowness.

David almost choked on the food in his mouth as he heard its casual whisper and watched it reveal black boxer briefs, which should be as sleek as Dillon’s sports car, but right now housed a large bulge straining their front. Dillon discarded the dark slacks and briefs, then turned and leaned over to fold his slacks and lay them on the bed. The smooth roundness of a butt that was at once firm and yet not so hard it didn’t have a sexy give when squeezed, hid the bunghole at the base of the crevice between its globes. His balls swung loose and low between thighs David knew weren’t as large as his own, but were still hard and powerful. Waves of sensation rushed through him as images of the unbridled sex they’d planned for that last night flashed like a kaleidoscope in his head.

The camera’s lens zoomed in close as Dillon turned. “I’ll show you mine, if you’ll show me yours.”

A dick already at half-mast emerged from a tight bush of tawny curls. Dillon continued to speak, his voice hoarse with sensuality, his words explicit and erotic.

David hadn’t expected interplanetary sex. All thoughts of food fled. He stopped listening to the words that followed, letting their cadence lure him as Dillon’s hand closed around his dick and played with it. Fascinated, hardly daring to breathe, David watched Dillon tug it out and in, out and in, thrusting his hips at David as fine threads spun from a wet cock, its veins so distended the foreskin slipped back and the enlarging tip of his penis turned purplish.

David’s breathing quickened to match the sound of Dillon’s. The dick cradled in the caressing fingers was in full cock mode as he played with the crown and smeared the creamy pre-cum over it, as if to lube it for penetration. He pointed the head directly at David and thrust his hips at him.

“Bear in mind what you see is only half-size,” Dillon said.

David’s laugh at Dillon’s humor ended in a groan. His aroused cock threatened to stain, even as it strained to break free of his workout pants. He stood, stepped away from the bar and thrust pants and briefs to his ankles. The air hit, washing his hard, hot, hungry length with coolness. He wanted to switch the camera on so Dillon could see this big, hungry cock, but he’d been fighting hell in Old Town when the transmission came in. It was prerecorded, not live.