by Tara Lain
“You sure you’re not the one getting the great stuff?” She gave a snorting laugh, but it didn’t sound happy.
“I wish. Talk soon.” He hung up. More like I hope. With a sigh he left the car, trotted up the walk, and climbed the porch stairs, then took a deep breath and knocked softly on the door.
Nothing.
He tried again. Damn, Llewellyn changed his mind. I guess I kind of deserve it.
He grabbed the door handle to give it a sharp yank just for satisfaction—and it opened. His heart slammed against his ribs. Shit, if he’d gotten hit over the head last time, what—
He tore open the door, rushed in, and—stopped as he stared across the living room at the sleeping beauty. Blaise knew Llewellyn was asleep because he was snuffling a soft snore, and the cats were purring almost as loudly, creating a symphony of buzzing.
Whew. Beauty was right. Funny how hard Llewellyn worked to look plain, but that bone structure was sheer perfection, and those big brown eyes could suck you into eternity. Blaise cocked his head.
“Mewr.”
Llewellyn’s eyes fluttered open. For a dreamy moment, his lips turned up. “Hi.” Then his eyes widened the rest of the way, he gasped and leaped up. The cats squalled and jumped in three directions, and Llewellyn teetered and fell backward to the couch again. “How the hell did you get in here?”
Blaise crossed his arms. “You left the door unlocked after Anne and I went out.”
“I f-fell asleep.” He wiped a hand over his face.
Blaise walked across the room and sat next to Llewellyn. He didn’t move away. Maybe a hopeful sign? “You need to be more careful. After that bash on the head, you don’t know who to trust.”
“Th-that’s the truth.” He gave Blaise a sideways glance.
Blaise put a hand on his arm. Llewellyn looked at it but again didn’t pull away. Blaise tightened his grip a little. “You’re suspicious of me, right? I knew you had the document when hardly anyone else did.”
Llewellyn nodded. Man, it was challenging dealing with a serious mind.
“I know. All I can say is, I didn’t do it. Honestly, why would I? What would I gain?” He looked up. “And I’d lose you. I mean, not that I have you or anything.”
Llewellyn just stared.
“Please tell me if you suspect me.”
Llewellyn blew out a breath. “N-no. Not really. You had n-no reason.”
“Right.” His shoulders relaxed. “Would you like a beer?”
He nodded.
Blaise walked into the cool, old-fashioned closed kitchen with the shiny new appliances and peered into the refrigerator. I’m a shit. With a deep breath, he grabbed two bottles, opened them, and carried them back to the living room. Llewellyn was walking back from the hall, his khakis still rumpled from sleeping in them.
“I-I ch-changed my shirt. Got dirt fr-from the porch.”
Blaise handed him the bottle, followed him back to the couch, and sat. He swigged the good beer. “I’m so sorry this happened to you. I don’t just mean getting mugged. I mean all of it.”
“Y-yes.”
He slid a hand across Llewellyn’s shoulders—so surprisingly broad and strong for a guy who portrayed himself as wimpy.
Chapter Eleven
GOOSE BUMPS on top of goose bumps.
Tingles traveled out along his nerves from the soothing touch of Blaise’s hand until the hairs on his arm weren’t the only things standing up. Why did Blaise just turn his whole existence upside down? When Blaise was around, Llewellyn wanted things it was stupid for him to want. Things that only happened to the special, lucky guys. Forever things.
In spite of himself, he sighed and slowly lowered his head to Blaise’s shoulder.
Blaise dropped his cheek against Llewellyn’s hair. For minutes they just sat like that, their beer bottles dripping on the coffee table. Weirdly, it was the most peaceful moment Llewellyn had experienced in… at least days. Since that fateful night when he’d first seen Blaise dancing.
Gently, Blaise slipped a hand under Llewellyn’s chin and turned his head toward him. Almost like he was stealing his breath, he moved his lips ever so slowly toward Llewellyn’s, pausing a half inch away. Llewellyn’s lips quivered, the scent of the beer they’d both drunk filling his head. Dear God, could he climax just from the anticipation of kissing Blaise?
Finally, finally their lips touched. Softer than Marie’s fur.
And bam! Blaise grabbed Llewellyn’s head and devoured his mouth like a five-course banquet menu.
The silly analogy used in novels, that people went up in flames—not silly anymore. Llewellyn’s nervous system overloaded before Blaise’s tongue had even explored the deeper recesses in his mouth. He heard himself moaning and whimpering. Embarrassing, but he couldn’t stop.
His brain knew there was something off about Blaise. Some truth that needed exploring. He didn’t care. He wanted to delude himself all the way to the bedroom. He’d trade his greed to know the answers for a night in Blaise’s arms.
Blaise pressed him backward onto the couch, and Llewellyn didn’t resist. In fact, both his khaki-clad legs surrounded Blaise’s hips and held on like a giant, skinny monkey. Totally getting with the program, Blaise grasped Llewellyn under the butt and started thrusting—a move that would have been a lot more fruitful without clothes. Still, it felt so very good Llewellyn never wanted it to stop.
Blaise did.
He froze and reared back, breaking all that hot, delicious contact, grabbed Llewellyn’s arm, and pulled him up. With a breath he wrapped one arm behind Llewellyn’s back and leaned to grab him under the legs.
“Whoa!” Llewellyn pressed a hand against Blaise’s chest. “I ap-preciate your optimism, but I’m almost as t-tall as you. You’ll never g-get me off the ground.”
Blaise grinned. “Wanna bet?”
“N-no. I’ll walk.” The smile spread over his lips by itself. “En-thusiastically.”
“Race you.” Blaise took off like a rabbit toward the hall. Of course, he didn’t know where the bedroom was, so that might slow him down. Still, Llewellyn walked slowly after him.
When he got to the master, Llewellyn leaned against the doorjamb and watched the show. His back to the door, Blaise tossed clothes in several directions, and oh my, the landscape being revealed. His T-shirt was already draped over the easy chair Llewellyn used for late-night reading. Creamy, beige skin stretched over broad shoulders, well-developed lats, and a narrow waist commanded the view until the jeans dropped off, leaving—oh my, that same creamy, beige skin stretched over the most delectable pair of buns, hard and high. It was difficult to drag his eyes from them until Blaise leaned forward to slide the denim down his legs and uncovered the enticing gap between those buns, to say nothing of some hangy-downy bits that attracted Llewellyn’s gaze.
With difficulty, Llewellyn held himself still and didn’t hurl himself on Blaise’s back, because who got a view like this—ever?
Finally Blaise stood nude and seemed to realize he was under scrutiny. He looked over his shoulder. “Doing research?”
“My p-passion.”
“See anything you’d like to get passionate about?” He fluttered his lashes, which looked incongruous and cute on his alphaish, all-American-boy face.
“The whole p-package.”
Blaise jumped and turned, landing with his groin framed by his fingers. “This package?”
“Among other th-things.”
“To take advantage of what’s offered, Dr. Lewis, you need a helluva lot fewer clothes.”
Confronting. He stared at his shoes, then turned and started walking toward the en suite bathroom he’d had added to the old house after he inherited it.
“Uh, where are you going?”
He didn’t turn. “To und-dress.”
“No way, Jose. Get back here and let me watch. Fair’s fair.”
“N-not the s-same.”
“So true.”
Llewellyn glanced back and nodded.<
br />
Blaise flashed his dimples. “Better. Now get over here and let me help with the unveiling.”
“N-no. Not wise.”
Blaise walked across the room, nude and apparently unselfconscious. Hell, he had no reason to be. Perfection.
Blaise reached out and grabbed the front of Llewellyn’s polo shirt. “You fond of this shirt?”
“N-not really.” Llewellyn stared down at Blaise’s hand.
“Good.” His fist tightened and he yanked the shirt upward over Llewellyn’s head, fabric ripping somewhere along the way. Llewellyn’s arms dropped automatically and surrounded his own bare torso, but Blaise pushed his hands away and leaned forward to kiss his chest.
Embarrassing, but so very nice.
Blaise’s kiss stole across Llewellyn’s skin until he nibbled his way to Llewellyn’s nipple and closed his mouth over the tingling bud. Never had Llewellyn seen the attraction of that kind of foreplay—oh, what a mistake. Who knew the nerves in his chest were directly connected to his even more intimate regions?
He shivered. Blaise chuckled and murmured, “So beautiful and so sensitive.”
Llewellyn shook his head, but the shaking head turned to thrashing as Blaise licked and pecked his way down Llewellyn’s abdomen. He simultaneously undid the button of his khakis and began sliding the loose fabric down Llewellyn’s hips.
Some piece of Llewellyn’s brain deeply regretted his choice of baggy white boxers that morning, but even that couldn’t swamp the throbbing desire to get that questing mouth where it appeared to be going. Throbbing. Appropriate word.
For a minute the kissing stopped—damn!—as Blaise leaned down and untied Llewellyn’s walking shoes. “Step out.” Llewellyn did as requested, and the pants slid to his ankles. Blaise slipped his fingers in the ugly shorts and snapped them down in one bold move. They bagged around Llewellyn’s ankles. “One more step.” Without even thinking—most reasonable thought having signed off for the night—Llewellyn moved forward and, just like that, stood nude.
His hands moved to cover his very prominent erection, but Blaise got there first. He dropped to his knees and stared right at what Llewellyn would have liked to hide. He cocked his head. “Well, isn’t this a big deal.”
Llewellyn made a snorting sound. It was all he could manage. Yes, he was better endowed than most people might guess, but it didn’t need to be discussed in polite conversation. He twisted a little, but Blaise held his hips.
“Appreciation’s in order.”
Llewellyn sucked his breath. Appreciation? What kind? “Ohhhhh.”
Blaise took Llewellyn in his mouth and applied gentle pressure—but it was enough to suck his brains right out of his head. Flashes of electricity shot through him and lit him up until all he could feel was between his belly and his thighs. No chance for his legs to hold him. His knees weakened; he stumbled and Blaise caught him, and together they flailed to the bed where Llewellyn fell, Blaise pounced, and that was all, game over, thank you sports fans.
Llewellyn cried out and his brain exploded as Blaise just kept sucking him into a new dimension. Gasping, Llewellyn lifted his whole torso off the bed as pleasure so intense he could barely stand it seared through him. He collapsed back to a gasping blob.
Gradually, his heart returned to normal—no, wait. It was kind of unlikely his heart would ever return to normal. But he stopped gasping enough to notice the warm heat of Blaise’s cheek resting against his thigh. “I’m s-sorry.”
Blaise snapped his head up like a jack-in-the-box. “What? Why?”
“I w-wanted to w-wait and—y-you know.”
Blaise scooted up beside Llewellyn and turned on his side, chuckling against Llewellyn’s ear. “Oh. don’t worry. We’ll get to ‘you know’ eventually.”
“I could—” He glanced down toward his intruding penis.
“Unh-unh.” Blaise folded his arms around Llewellyn and snuggled against him. “Just sleep. We’ll think about the rest later.”
I should—
His eyelids fluttered… and closed.
WHEN HIS eyes opened, Llewellyn stared into the dark in front of his face and felt the warmth of another body cuddled next to him. Amazing. Never before in his life. He’d never spent the night with a lover. Even Ramon had slept alone. As a child, he hadn’t spent a night sleeping beside his mother as most children had. His life was a cuddle-free zone. He never thought he’d missed it.
Blaise made a little muttering, snuffly noise. It sounded vulnerable. With a moan he rolled onto his back, exposing a significant target area.
Llewellyn smiled and began to scoot toward Blaise’s still half-masted erection as Blaise flopped an arm above his head, stretching his muscled body like a cat in the sun. Make that moon.
Oh my.
Llewellyn licked his lips. This was a sexual practice Ramon had perfected, so Llewellyn felt comfortable gently kissing Blaise and then sliding him into his mouth all the way to his throat. Funny. He’d done this a number of times, but it had only been mechanical. A way to maintain his reputation for prowess and mastery. This time he noticed everything—the sweet, musky smell, the feeling of soft, soft skin stretched taut over the hard cylinder. Most of all, he noticed how perfectly Blaise fit into his mouth—even though he was more than a mouthful.
“Oh baby, baby. What’s going on down there?”
“If y-you d-don’t know, I must—”
“Be doing it wrong? No way.”
Spurred on, Llewellyn returned to his task, and Blaise popped his hips, moaning and mewling until he froze and backed himself slowly from Llewellyn’s mouth. “Wait. If we actually want to do this together this time, you better quit that. You’re too wonderful.”
Wonderful. Hell, he knew who was wonderful.
Blaise scooched back and sat up, then smiled. “Oh good.” He nodded toward Llewellyn’s very prominent condition. Falling forward onto hands and knees, he crawled closer, then nuzzled Llewellyn’s ear. “Can I offer you top or bottom?”
The word slid out on a sigh. “Bottom, p-please.”
“So polite. Please direct me to the condoms and lube.”
“L-lube’s in the b-bedside t-table. I—I don’t have c-condoms.”
Blaise cupped his cheek. “Why?”
“N-never need them.” He stared at his hands, lying on either side of his erection.
“Not from lack of attention?” He looked incredulous, which was damned flattering.
“Y-yes.”
Blaise whispered, “We better buy a large economy-sized box, because we’re going to need them all the time from now on.”
“W-we are?” He grinned.
“Yeah. Meanwhile, I have one in my wallet.” Scrambling, he opened the drawer, grabbed the lube, and tossed it to Llewellyn. “Do you mind using it yourself? It would be more romantic if I did it, but I find I’m several furlongs beyond anxious.”
Anxious barely describes it. Llewellyn opened the cap and squeezed sticky fluid into his hand. He began shoving it in the appropriate channel as Blaise jumped off the bed with parts bouncing and grabbed his jeans from the floor. Rummaging in the pockets, he found his wallet and produced the coveted item from it. He held out the package. “I hope it’s not so old it disintegrates.”
With another energetic leap, he landed back on the bed, gloved himself, and fell forward, taking Llewellyn down with him and kissing when they landed. Suddenly Llewellyn’s mouth felt complete—even more than when Blaise’s dick had been in there. Llewellyn caressed every corner of Blaise’s lips he could reach. Sweeter and sweeter.
Blaise pulled away an inch. “Come on, beautiful.” He reared back, grasped Llewellyn’s hips, and pulled him to the edge of the bed, then draped Llewellyn’s legs on his shoulders.
Llewellyn’s eyes widened. “F-face-to-face?”
“I want to see your eyes. To know how you feel.”
“O-okay.”
Blaise positioned himself, and Llewellyn’s heart hammered. As the pressure started, Blai
se gazed into his eyes, and Llewellyn felt the heat in his own cheeks. Blaise smiled. “You’re so cute.”
“N-not—ohh.”
Blaise slid in deep, and nerves that hadn’t been touched in so long sprang to life. That applied to all kinds of organs in his body—including his heart. “Oh G-God, Blaise.”
“Yes, oh yes.” Blaise pressed his chest close to Llewellyn’s, heart to heart, every move claiming another small piece of emotional real estate.
Fight it. Don’t be stupid.
Fuck it. Stupid sounds wonderful. Mostly what smart got him was lonely.
He wrapped himself like a monkey around Blaise’s beautiful body, rising to meet every new thrust, letting the mewling sounds fly out of his throat and not caring where they landed.
Blaise increased the pace. So good. Almost too much pleasure. Llewellyn could fly apart from the pressure to scream his joy. The deep drives followed by little jerks of Blaise’s hips slid over Llewellyn’s gland, sending shock waves into his brain and belly on every pass. The heat built and built until the need to explode centered in his groin—like planets and stars must be circulating around his cock, getting ready for another big bang.
Blaise’s jamming hips got erratic, and his noises emerged louder and more frantic. “Llew—gonna—oh God. Soon. So close. Soon. Can you—”
With a gasp Blaise grabbed Llewellyn’s most sensitive organ in his hand and gave it a long, slow pull.
“Yes!” No amount of foreplay prepared him. The orgasm ripped through him like a tidal wave of feeling in shudder after shudder of pure fire, spasming his belly and shooting up his spine until his head exploded. “Oooooh, gooood.”
Blaise held himself on straining forearms and, at Llewellyn’s cry, let go, slamming them both to the mattress. The weight on Llewellyn from shoulder to calf felt so damned amazing.
It was hard to gasp for air with a hundred-and-seventyish-pound body on top of him, but he sure didn’t want Blaise to move. Finally, though, Blaise rolled to his side, off Llewellyn, but he reached out, wrapped his arm around Llewellyn’s neck, and pulled him closer. Nice.