Stroke of Luck

by Jenna Byrnes

  “Wow. That’s amazing.” Steven was giddy thinking about his win. He couldn’t imagine not having to pay taxes on it. But that was a moot point. “I don’t generally buy my Twinkies and root beer in Europe, either. So what can I expect here?”

  Paul gave an amused roll of his eyes and continued to calculate on the machine. “Diet root beer. Okay, ninety-seven million dollars. You’re probably looking at a lump sum payout of fifty-two million, four hundred and some thousand. After taxes, you’d get around thirty-seven million, seven hundred thousand.”

  “Wow.” The numbers shocked Steven. “That’s quite a difference.”

  “You just told me you’re not greedy.” Paul knocked back his shot.

  Steven emptied his cup and nodded. “I just don’t figure Uncle Sam should get such a big share, considering I had to pump the petrol and all that.”

  “Some lotteries offer an annual payout that usually amounts to more money. Honestly, I’ve never been in this situation, so I’m not up on all the details.”

  “Me either.” Steven swallowed nervously. The bourbon had loosened him up just enough to deactivate the censor between his brain and his mouth. Feeling a little bullet-proof, he said, “I’m just a single, gay man with simple tastes and a budget to match.”

  “You don’t say.” Paul flipped off the adding machine and shoved it away from the edge of his desk. “Your brother never told me that about you.”

  Steven shrugged and smiled. “He never told me much about you, either. Like how I really should have hired you to do my taxes sooner.”

  A sexy smile played across Paul’s lips. He stood and moved around in front of the desk, where he leant back against it. “Maybe if he had, we’d be past all this ‘getting to know each other’ bullshit and on to something more interesting—like a real drink at a nice little spot I know.”

  Sounds good to me. Steven grabbed the arms of his chair, but before he stood, he asked, “What about the ticket? I still don’t know what I should do.”

  “First thing in the morning, I’ll call the Lottery Commission and confirm it. See if there are any other winners, that type of thing. Then you have some decisions to make. I’d suggest consulting a lawyer. There are several ways to handle claiming the money.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I don’t know all the details, but I think you can set up a blind trust so no one knows it was you who won.”

  Surprise shot through Steven. “Are you serious? I want to tell people. I can’t wait to see the looks on their faces.”

  Paul made a ‘tsk, tsk’ sound which oozed with scepticism. “Not sure that’s such a good idea. You have no idea what money does to people. They’ll be crawling out of the woodwork.”

  Steven stood. “We don’t have to worry about this tonight, do we? You mentioned calling them first thing in the morning.”

  “Yeah, when the lottery offices open. There’s nothing we can do about it tonight. Just keep the ticket safe.” He picked it up off his desk and held it out.

  Steven took the bag and pocketed it. “You mentioned a ‘real’ drink? What did you have in mind?”

  Paul’s gaze travelled up and down Steven’s body. “I’m partial to a Sloe, Comfortable Screw.”

  A jolt of excitement buzzed through Steven. He took a step forward, his face inches away from the other man’s. “Would that be a Sloe, Comfortable, Fuzzy Screw? Against the Wall, With Satin Pillows, or the Hard Way?”

  Paul’s eyes lit up, and he chuckled. “A bartender, right. You got me. I’ll tell you what, I have the ingredients to make all those drinks at my place. We could just go there, and you could name your pleasure.”

  Steven blinked innocently. “We were talking about drinks?”

  Chapter Two

  Steven glanced around Paul’s condo, located in one of Chicago’s nicer high rises. He admired how the smooth, brown leather furniture contrasted with the plush, white carpeting. “This is great. You have good taste.”

  “I like to think so.” Paul drew the blinds wide and exposed a gorgeous view of the city at sunset. “How about that drink?”

  Excitement simmering in his gut, Steven moved behind the chrome and glass bar and pulled out bottles. “I think all we’re missing is orange juice.”

  “Coming right up.” Paul went into the kitchen and returned with a small pitcher.

  Steven chose two highball glasses and prepared their drinks, topping them off with the sweet, orange liquid. He handed one to Paul and smiled. “I improvised the recipe a little and made these the way I like them. Hope you approve.”

  Paul sipped the drink. “Definitely.” He maintained eye contact as he added, “You’ve got good taste, too. But I expected that.”

  Two steps around the bar and Steven was inches away from Paul again. “I’m glad you’re not holding the Twinkie and diet root beer thing over my head.”

  “No way. After all, look how that turned out?” Paul grinned and took another sip.

  The lottery ticket, which had been pushed from Steven’s thoughts in favour of more lusty matters, suddenly returned front and centre. Would he be as attractive to this handsome, seemingly wealthy accountant before he’d come into ninety-seven million bucks? Well, fuck. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of this earlier. Had people started crawling out of the woodwork already?

  He shook his head. “Can’t believe I forgot about that ticket. Guess I had other things on my mind.”

  “How could you forget about it?” Paul’s enthusiasm bubbled over. “I just keep thinking—” He froze, an uncomfortable look crossing his face. “No, wait. I didn’t mean it like that.”

  Steven’s stomach seemed to hit the floor, and he smiled sarcastically. “If it would help, I could stick the ticket to my forehead as we’re doing it. Or maybe the back of my head would be more appropriate.”

  “Whoa.” Paul stepped aside and set his glass on the bar. “I guess I deserved that. The timing really sucks, here. But I hope you’ll believe me, when I invited you here I wasn’t thinking about the money.”

  Steven wanted to believe him, but the timing did suck. “What were you thinking about?”

  “Mostly, your lips.” Paul faced him, his dark eyes teaming with something that looked a lot like sincerity. “I could spend about an hour chewing on them before I had to drag myself away. It’d take another hour to explore every inch of your body. Maybe two if I did it right.”

  Heart thudding, Steven fought down the lump in his throat. “I’m sure you’d do it right. That doesn’t worry me one bit.”

  Paul’s gaze shifted to the floor, and when he looked up again, he seemed full of regret. “The last thing I’d ever want to do is worry you. Let’s call it a night. I’ll ask Nancy to clear my schedule in the morning so I can phone the Lottery Commission first thing. Leave me your number, and I’ll let you know what they tell me.”

  “I’d rather be with you when you call.” Steven stared into Paul’s chocolate brown eyes. “In fact, I don’t really want to go anywhere tonight.” He knew his actions were impulsive. Paul might very well be more interested in his money than him. At that moment, Steven didn’t care. They weren’t making a lifetime commitment, for Christ’s sake. It was one night.

  Standing so close to the handsome, dark-haired devil had his cock pulsing in his trousers, and the ache was getting difficult to ignore. “If it’s all right with you, I’d like to stay.”

  “Look.” Paul put his hands on Steven’s chest. “As much as I’d like that, I don’t want you thinking it has anything to do with the money.”

  The touch did it. Steven slid his arms around Paul’s waist and dragged him forward until their bodies collided. “Forget about it,” he murmured and smiled. “Or at least, let’s think about something else for a while. I have all this nervous energy I could use some help to burn off.”

  “If you’re sure.” Paul’s lips said one thing, but his eyes reflected another. He seemed to be as turned on as Steven was. For either of them to stop, at that moment, was most
likely a feat easier said than done.

  “Kiss me.” Paul had mentioned spending a good hour devouring his lips, and Steven was ready for the hunk to get started.

  “Aw, fuck.” Apparently resigned to what was undeniably going to happen, Paul pressed his mouth against Steven’s. What started as something light and tender quickly turned hungrier, more primal.

  Steven parted his lips, allowing Paul’s plundering tongue to slip in. The kiss deepened, and for a moment he struggled for air. He gasped but soon realised his lover was breathing for both of them. They were like one being. An amazing feeling, and one he was anxious to take to the next level.

  Must get closer. Steven sank against the man, would have crawled inside him if he could have, to be nearer to him. “Need you,” he murmured unintelligibly because their lips were still locked.

  Paul pulled back, panting. “I have no idea what you just said, but if it was ‘stop’, I think I’ll have to kill you.”

  “Don’t stop.” Steven tugged the other man’s tie off with a flourish. “More. I need more.”

  Both sets of fingers trembled as they unbuttoned each other’s shirts. Paul tugged him towards the other room. “Let’s take this party into the bedroom. I have supplies in the nightstand.”

  “Think you can be naked by the time we get there?” Steven shrugged off his jacket. He thought for a moment about the ticket in his pocket but ignored the niggling and left the coat on the sofa.

  Paul hopped as he kicked out of his shoes. “The bedroom is right around the corner. But, yes, I’ll be naked by the time we get there.”

  Wide grins split both their faces. Steven shrugged out of the rest of his clothes, leaving a trail that ended with his boxer-briefs by the side of the bed.

  With one swift motion, Paul tossed back the bedding and exposed navy-coloured silk sheets. He fumbled in the drawer of the bedside table and came up with a couple of foil packets and some lube.

  “Aw, look at this!” Steven dived onto the bed and flopped onto his back. “Fancy, schmancy. You’re living the good life, man.” He bit back a moan as Paul grabbed his knees and spread them wide, crawling between.

  “What difference does it make if you don’t have someone to share it with?” The handsome hunk kissed Steven’s ankle and slowly worked his way up the leg.

  Steven shuddered as the lips and tongue left no inch of skin untouched. When the mouth reached his groin, he was ready for it. His cock throbbed, a drop of pre-cum glistening on the slit. If Paul had so much as licked the swollen head, he might have erupted on the spot.

  Instead, Paul blew warm breath on the puckered balls. He ignored the raging hard-on and continued kissing down Steven’s other leg. Slowly, methodically, he made it to the toes and massaged them one at a time before Steven had to protest.

  “You’re killing me!” He flopped on the bed. “I said I needed you, not needed more torment. Suck me, fuck me, do something. I can’t take any more teasing.”

  “Oh, I think you can. Just relax, Lover-boy. You’ll be sucked and fucked to your heart’s content. Right now, I want you to flip over on your stomach. I have more tasting to do.”

  Steven groaned loudly but did as requested. He buried his face into the cool, slick pillowcase and muttered, “I’m gonna get your sheets all messy.”

  “I hope so.” Paul sucked a tender spot near Steven’s Achilles’ tendon hard enough to leave a mark.

  “Fuck!” Steven jumped. Despite his complaint, the pleasure was about to drive him wild. His erection rubbed against the soft silk, and he truly thought he might come with little or no help from either of their hands. “Damn, that feels good!”

  “I’m glad.” Paul licked a wet trail up the back of one leg.

  Steven closed his eyes. He bit the inside of his cheek, trying to ground himself. Never had a lover spent so much time attempting to drive him wild—and succeeding—until now.

  The lottery ticket flitted through his mind. Is Paul sucking up to me because of it? He winced as the man placed another hickey on the back of one thigh. Literally sucking up? Steven smiled. So what if he is? Go for it, dude.

  When Paul reached his ass, Steven held his breath. If the man ignored his anus the way he’d ignored his cock, Steven would be hurting.

  With both hands, Paul pried the cheeks apart. He blew a puff of warm breath on the hole hidden there then licked it with small, cat-like strokes.

  “Aw, Christ.” Steven thought he’d been desperate before. Much more of this and he’d be done for. “Please…”

  Paul chuckled. “Please what, babe? Please stop? Or please go deeper until your tongue doesn’t reach, then use your fingers on me, then your cock?” He inserted his tongue and worked it past the tight, outer ring.

  Steven gasped. “Uh, that second one. I’m ready. Tongue, fingers, cock—all of them. Just…please.”

  “Mmm,” Paul groaned. He drove his tongue as deep as it would go then pushed it in and out like a battering ram.

  Steven was beyond caring what appendage was inside him. Whatever the stud wanted to use was fine, but Steven needed it hard and fast. “Yeah, fuck me,” he groaned, face still buried in the pillow. “More, more, more.”

  Paul eased his tongue free and sat up. “Such a greedy boy.”

  A low moan escaped Steven’s lips. “If you tell me you’re done, I think I’ll have to kill you.”

  With a deep-throated chuckle, Paul patted his ass. “Nowhere near done, sexy. Just getting some lube for phase two.”

  Steven heard the squish of the grease squirting from the tube. His anus puckered like Pavlov’s dog drooling at the sound of the bell. He smiled and relaxed his muscles for what was to come.

  Paul’s finger slid in easily and was joined by another. “Oh, yeah. Feel that sphincter loosening up for me.” He tugged them from side to side then added a third before he seemed to be satisfied. “I believe you are ready. And I’ve got just the equipment to do the job.”

  Fingers still inserted deep, Paul used the other hand to pat Steven’s bum. “Up on your knees, babe.”

  Steven backed into position, pressing his ass firmly against the fingers prodding him. He groaned with disappointment when they left, but when the foil packet ripped, he smiled. The familiar sound held the promise of things yet to come, and again he reminded himself of Pavlov’s dog. He was the one drooling this time when he imagined Paul sheathing his erection with latex and greasing it for entry. “Anytime tonight,” he urged.

  “Such a slut.” Paul nudged the tip of his dick to Steven’s hole. “I’m going to fuck you now, slut, just like you’ve been begging me for the last hour.”

  “An hour?” Steven groaned. “Do it. I’m ready.” He dug the top of his head into the pillow so he could watch their joining. His own, weeping erection blocked the view, a long ribbon of cum swaying from the tip, nearly reaching the mattress. “Aw, fuck. I’m serious about the sheets, man. I’m gonna blow any minute, here.”

  Paul grasped Steven’s hips and drove their bodies together. “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t. In fact, I think I’ll help.” He snaked his hand around Steven’s middle and cupped the drooling shaft. “Ooh, nice and slick.” His thumb swiped across the tip and spread the sticky cream.

  “Fuck!” Steven’s mind raced as his body was overcome with sensation. The thrumming in his ass was heightened by the perfect technique of Paul’s hand strokes. Perfect. The word floated through his mind as his balls churned and prepared for release. Steven gasped and grunted, giving in to the feelings that had toyed with him for too long.

  Spurts of cum covered Paul’s hand and the sheets, but his lover barely seemed to notice. Paul was in his own Nirvana, groaning and writhing as he emptied into Steven’s latex-lined ass.

  They held still for precious, long seconds after the shudders subsided, neither apparently wanting the moment to end. Steven finally blew out a breath and another curse. “Holy shit!”

  Paul chuckled. He placed small kisses on Steven’s back and shoulde
rs before easing his cock out and standing. “You have a filthy mouth.”

  Steven rolled to the side of the bed to avoid the wet spot. He suddenly felt ashamed of something that had never occurred to him before. “Sorry. I guess that comes from working in a bar.”

  Paul smiled. “I never hear it. I love it. Don’t change a thing.” He grasped the used rubber and motioned to the bathroom. “I’ll be right back with a towel and a warm washcloth.”

  “You’re too good to me.” Steven smiled as he watched Paul go. The nagging are we here because I won the lottery? feeling returned, but he ignored it. The sex they’d just shared had been incredible. If he found out he was being played and ended up kicking Paul to the kerb, it wouldn’t be until he’d had his fill of the man and his amazing body.

  His lover returned with a thick towel, which he spread on the mattress, and a wet cloth, which he spread on Steven. “Let me clean you up a bit.”

  Paul’s face was so handsome, his gaze so intent as he ran the cloth over Steven’s body. Steven almost felt guilty for the thoughts he’d been having but couldn’t be sure they weren’t accurate. When the quick wash was complete, he drew Paul into the circle of his arms and held him. “That was fantastic. Thank you.” He kissed his forehead.

  “Mmm, thank you. I thought so, too. So wonderful, in fact, I’d like to do it all again in about an hour.” He waggled his eyebrows at Steven. “Or something similar. Will you stay with me tonight?”

  “I’m not going anywhere.” Steven tightened his grip on the other man, surprised at how comfortable it was to be lying together so intimately after knowing each other for such a short time. I feel frigging happy. He kissed Paul’s head again. “No place I’d rather be.”

  * * * *

  Steven paced around Paul’s office the next morning while the accountant spoke on the phone with someone from the Lottery Commission. The conversation had lasted nearly half an hour. From Steven’s end, it sounded like good news, but he couldn’t be sure. He watched Paul’s face and looked at him questioningly when the call ended.