Jeremy banged his head onto the mattress with a shout as Owen used the plug ruthlessly. God it was good. He was so hard. He wanted to cry out. He wanted to beg. He had to beg. “Please, Owen. Let me come.”
“That’s all I wanted.” Owen filled his ass with the plug until it was all the way in, making Jeremy groan. Then he crawled up onto the bed, dragging Jeremy with him toward the middle of the mattress. “On your side,” he ordered sharply.
Jeremy could hardly move, the bindings making him feel totally out of control as Owen shoved him onto his side and aligned their bodies in the sixty-nine position that he loved, his cock inches away from Jeremy’s mouth.
“You want to come? So do I. Suck me,” Owen demanded. “I want us to come together this time.”
“Yes.” Oh fuck yes. Jeremy opened his mouth and moaned when Owen spread his own thighs and thrust his hips forward, sinking his cock between Jeremy’s lips. He pumped against Jeremy’s face as if he couldn’t help himself. Couldn’t stop himself.
“Hell,” Owen was groaning with every thrust. “Damn, I was right. It’s even better.”
Owen’s mouth closed over his shaft, hungry and rough. Wild. So wild Jeremy felt his eyes rolling back in his head as lightning bolts of pleasure zapped up his spine. Owen tried to take more, but Jeremy held his hips back. Even having his own mouth fucked so hard he could barely breathe, some small coherent part of him knew Owen couldn’t take the same treatment, no matter how good it would feel.
You taste so good. Suck me harder, Owen. Need to come with you.
Owen’s thigh went taut against Jeremy’s cheek and he knew. He could taste it on his tongue. Owen was one thrust away from coming. Jeremy felt the plug in his ass and Owen’s mouth on him and he couldn’t wait anymore either. He swirled his tongue and swallowed Owen’s cock where it pressed against the back of his throat, and then they were both coming, both moaning and shaking against each other as they found release.
Jeremy was drowning. Flying. He’d been so thoroughly taken he didn’t know which end was up. His limbs were shaking while he hungrily licked Owen’s shaft, unable to stop until Owen rolled him onto his stomach and undid his restraints.
“That’s the look I love,” Owen murmured gently. “Now who’s a natural? I had a feeling you would be.”
Jeremy felt hands and lips on his arms, and he couldn’t stop himself from turning back toward Owen and pulling him down for a kiss that said everything he couldn’t.
He didn’t want it to end, but it had to. This was all they could have.
Owen, what are you doing to me? What are we doing?
Chapter Five
“Another beer, Jeremy?”
He looked up at Owen’s sister and nodded with an absent smile. “Thanks, Jen. I’d love one.”
“Anything for you, dimples,” she said with a wink, her light blue eyes reminding him of Owen’s. “You look great without the beard by the way. Ten years younger. Don’t get me wrong, you had the whole dangerous artistic biker thing going on, and it was hot, but you really do have a handsome face. It reminds me what a crush I had on you when I was just an innocent tween. Too bad I’m getting married, because I could get into a lot of trouble with a bad boy like you.”
“Don’t patronize me, little Finn. The bad boy is now a dirty old man.”
Jennifer Finn rolled her eyes. “Tell someone who doesn’t know. Still, it could work. My brothers like you better than they like their future in-law.”
Jeremy barely held back a snort. They’d like a fungus better than they liked Jennifer’s fiancé, Scott, but he wasn’t going to be the one to say it. Every time anyone did, Jen just dug in and reminded them of Scott’s horrible childhood. She’d started rooting for the underdog in middle school and she still wasn’t ready to throw in the towel. She was going to soft-heart her way into an unhappy marriage if the Finns didn’t shake some sense into her soon.
He grinned at her. “The Finn boys don’t like me—I’m prettier than they are and they know it.”
Jen laughed. “I know it too. So does that hot guy at the end of the bar who keeps asking me questions about you.”
“Don’t start. You know my rule—no pick-ups at your family’s place. I wouldn’t want to give anyone a heart attack.”
“Spoilsport,” Jennifer pouted. “No one else is around tonight. Anyway, Dad wouldn’t blame you, and even if he did, Seamus will be taking over soon and he’s got plans to bring in a younger crowd with healthier, less narrow-minded hearts. Come on, look at that guy. He’s a Latin hunk of sexy and he’s totally into you. I suppose if you want to let him down easy I could let you flirt with me. Though if he’s anything like you, it might make him more interested.”
“Little Finn, you are trouble,” he said, shaking his head, “and you’re sounding like Natasha. What has she been filling your head with? We shouldn’t have let you make her a bridesmaid. You two are obviously spending way too much time together.”
“And we still have five months to go.” Jen looked around and then lowered her voice. “Speaking of Tasha, she’s taking me to her club for a special bachelorette party soon. One of her friends is going to…well, we’re negotiating. That’s what they call it, Jeremy. Negotiating. You basically have to sign a contract to get kinky. Isn’t that wild?”
Oh, hell no. “Does Owen know about this?”
“No, he doesn’t, and don’t you dare tell him, Jeremy Porter.” She fiddled with her strawberry blonde braid the way she always did when she was nervous or excited. “I’m twenty-four not twelve. I can do whatever I want. But if he happens to show up and give me grief? I’ll threaten to tell our feminist mother how he spends all his free time lately. That would be enough to scare anyone into silence.”
Just lately he spent it with me, he thought, lowering his head into his hand and sighing. He wondered how Ellen Finn would respond to that information.
Somehow he didn’t think they’d be any more pleased than they would be about Jen getting her kink on at Tasha’s club. Though his transgression would merit far worse than a lecture.
“I wish I didn’t know this,” he mumbled into his palm. “Why do I know this?”
Jen took his hand off his face and squeezed it. “Because I know you’ll understand and keep my secrets. You always have.”
He squeezed back. “And I always will, little Finn. Still, this is a bit more intense than the average bachelorette shindig. Why don’t you get a stripper and objectify him with your friends like a normal girl?”
“I just want to try it once. I’m going to marry Scott, and I know him well enough to realize he won’t be the kind of husband that wants to experiment with that sort of thing. If you want to know the truth, he likes to—”
“I don’t,” Jeremy interrupted rapidly. “I really don’t want to know the truth. At all.”
She giggled and he studied her through narrowed eyes. “All three of your brothers would take turns kicking my ass if they found out I knew about this and didn’t talk you out of it. They won’t hear it from me, but I have to tell you, I’m not liking the idea of you negotiating with one of Tasha’s friends.”
“You’re one of her friends.” She grinned. “Let’s negotiate. If you want to let that man pick you up while I watch, maybe even kiss him, I might get enough of a vicarious thrill to change my mind and cancel my date at the club.”
Jeremy shook his head and took a drink. “Tempting as that is, your brother’s going to be here any minute. How about I promise not to say a word if you stop trying to hook me up before he gets here?”
“Have it your way.” Someone called her name and she moved to the other end of the bar, leaving Jeremy staring into his glass mug.
That conversation had been disconcerting as hell. He needed to have a talk with Tasha. Was she trying to drive Owen crazy by leading his sister over to the dark side, or was it something else? Was she using a different method of persuasion to show Jennifer that she had more options than Scott? If so, it was already more
successful than the Finn frontal assault her brothers Stephen and Seamus had attempted.
At least it had temporarily taken his mind off the reason he was here. The reason he couldn’t make himself get up and leave, even though that was exactly what he wanted to do.
Owen had ordered him to come.
Jeremy hadn’t seen him in the two days since his birthday. The last time, he’d been lying in bed, watching Owen dress so he could go home and change before work. He’d kept his hands laced under his pillow, his short nails digging painfully into his skin so he wouldn’t reach for him and try to convince him to stay.
When Owen sat down on the bed and kissed him, it hadn’t felt like a goodbye, and he’d let himself fantasize that it wasn’t. But his absence and the light of day had brought Jeremy’s doubts and fears to the surface, and reaffirmed his decision. There were so many reasons there couldn’t be a repeat performance. Good reasons why he couldn’t let things get sexual again. Their friendship, his close ties with the Finn family...
Those damn suspenders.
He’d never allowed himself to be restrained before. He’d told Owen he didn’t judge, but he couldn’t help wondering what it was that people enjoyed about being on the receiving end of that type of relationship. Being powerless.
Jeremy was always in control. He’d had to be. He’d never had the family life Owen enjoyed. His parents had always been too caught up in their own brawling to express anything but disappointment in their introvert son, who’d spent all his time drawing at the park or buried in a comic book. They’d finally found something they agreed on enough to stop fighting when they caught him in the bathroom with a magazine of male nudes. No son of ours… Insert cliché here.
At fourteen, he’d found himself kicked out of his own house—not that he’d ever felt like he belonged there. The heroes in his favorite stories were usually switched at birth or alien babies from another planet, and he’d spent a lot of time imagining he was too. In fact, the scenarios he dreamed up for his real family were the basis for those first amateurish comics he’d drawn after he moved in with his aunt, a woman who preferred cuddling a bottle to raising a fourteen-year-old boy with sexuality issues.
His dad had shoved him out the door with just enough money to pay part of her rent for a month, and she’d let him stay as long as he worked a part-time job after school and paid enough rent to keep her in wine boxes and forties. But her grungy little studio had never been his home any more than his parents’ house had, which was just one more reason why he’d spent as much time as he could at the Finns’.
That was his life, and Jeremy had dealt with it. He’d worked hard, and with Mr. Finn’s help, he’d won a scholarship for college, majoring in art. Then he’d created the popular series of comic books about a demon on his own in the big city, trying to make amends for his past, and it had taken off right before graduation. Now he owned his own house, had money in savings and didn’t owe anyone a damn thing. Didn’t depend on anyone for his security and well-being.
Except the Finns. He owed them. He depended on them and didn’t know what he’d do without them.
He shook off his guilt and took another drink. For the most part he was independent and in control. And it was the same with sex. He chose his partners and he was always the one to walk away. Tasha was his only exception, but even she respected his tastes when it came to men. He wasn’t one of those submissive males who liked to have his will taken away. He didn’t change himself—shave his fucking beard—just to please his lover.
Until now.
Owen got to him. Made him want to give in to him in a way he never had with anyone before. Jeremy didn’t like it. Didn’t like how close he’d been to begging for that paddle. For Owen’s dick.
And he hated how uncertain he felt the next day. That was new too. The neediness. The self-doubt. It was just sex. He didn’t need comforting after sex, damn it.
So he’d taken the necessary steps. He’d changed the outgoing message on his phone, saying he was drawing on deadline and he’d call back when he could. A few days, maybe a week should be enough, he’d thought. Long enough that it wasn’t so fresh in their minds, and they could put it aside and move on. Tasha’s messages were concerned. Owen’s were frustratingly short and enigmatic. He hadn’t answered either of them, and he’d made sure he was out running errands or grabbing dinner whenever Owen could be driving home from his construction site.
He’d tried to get some work done so he wouldn’t be a liar as well as a coward, but he hadn’t been able to draw a straight line. He also hadn’t come up with any epiphanies or reasonable explanations for what they’d experienced together. If anything, spending the last two days alone had made him feel more vulnerable. More out of control. Owen was all he could think about. Every hour was spent reliving their one night. The things Owen had said. The things he’d done.
When he’d gotten that text a few hours ago telling him to meet here or face the consequences, Jeremy was at the end of his rope. Ignoring Owen wasn’t working, and that message was clear—he wasn’t going to take no for an answer this time.
Maybe he just wanted to assure himself they were still friends, though Owen had never been insecure. Maybe he wouldn’t talk about it at all. It would be better if he didn’t, Jeremy told himself. He could show Owen he was fine, that they could still hang out like they used to and that their friendship hadn’t been irrevocably damaged. That had to be what Owen wanted. For all their sakes.
And then he would go home and find a way to forget how it felt to be with him. How right.
He’d just taken another drink when the man from the end of the bar appeared beside him, leaning his elbow casually on the counter. “I know you saw me and I can feel the ‘stay away’ vibes you’re throwing down, but you look like you could use someone to talk to and you’re too attractive to be sitting alone. Can I buy you another beer?”
He studied the stranger. “Does that line usually work for you?”
The man laughed. “Would I sound arrogant if I said yes?”
Jen was right. He was hot. Young and handsome, with dark eyes that sparkled with interest and an honest, open approach that appealed to Jeremy. He knew instinctively that he could get this man home and out of his clothes in under an hour. Hell, maybe he should. Maybe a one-night stand with someone who knew what they were asking for and could take what Jeremy needed to give was just what the doctor ordered to get his mind off Owen.
He waited for the hum of arousal and excitement that usually came with a potential new conquest, but there was nothing. Jeremy sighed, knowing it wasn’t going to happen. Not tonight. Not for a while. “I appreciate it, but I’m afraid I’ll have to pass.”
“Are you sure?” The stranger lowered his voice and leaned closer. “I am arrogant, but from the look of you I think you’d know exactly how to put me in my place.”
Jeremy chuckled and started to refuse again, but before he had a chance, Owen arrived beside them and beat him to the punch.
“He passed. Weren’t you paying attention?”
The man’s eyes widened slightly and he turned around to see Owen towering over him, his blond hair mussed from the wind, his blue eyes icy and threatening. “You should leave now.”
“I didn’t know this seat was taken,” the man mumbled, throwing money on the bar and walking out of the pub without another word. Jeremy watched Owen glare at his back until he disappeared, more than a little surprised at his reaction.
“Bad day?”
Owen turned back to him and Jeremy actually felt a knot of anxiety forming in his stomach. He did not look happy.
“We need to talk.”
“Hey, big brother.” Jen walked over and leaned forward on the bar in front of them. “You look like hell. You didn’t fire Scott, did you? It was my idea to get you that stripper, in case you were mad.”
“I could have gone all year without knowing that.” Owen rubbed the back of his neck with his palm and nodded. “But it has been a
tough day. In fact, that’s why I asked Jeremy to drop by. A friend of ours is making some bad decisions and I need his help getting it sorted out. Beers and darts later?”
Jen frowned in concern but nodded. “You’re on.”
Owen gripped Jeremy’s arm. “Let me fill you in out back.”
Shit. He thought they’d come here so they wouldn’t be alone, but it was clear Owen had something to say that he didn’t want anyone else to hear. Was he going to tell him to stay away from his family? From him? Was he going to say he was drunk that night and he didn’t remember how it started or why? “Sure.”
They walked past the dartboards and the bathrooms, into the small kitchen that was only open for lunch and out the back door. The back alley of Finn’s was narrow, without a lot of places for privacy. Owen kept walking until he’d moved past the large trash bin and into the shadows.
Jeremy followed at a slower pace. Owen was definitely upset. “What’s up?”
Owen took him by surprise when he grabbed him by his shirt and flung him against the brick wall a little harder than necessary. The air left his lungs in a whoosh.
“What’s up?” Owen sounded incredulous. “Are you seriously asking that?”
Jeremy frowned, holding up his hands. “Owen, calm down. You said you wanted to talk.”
“Oh, I’ve wanted to talk for two days, Jeremy. You haven’t answered my calls. Then I came over after work yesterday and you weren’t there. Where the hell were you?”
Jeremy swallowed hard. “Dinner. I must have been picking up dinner. And I was going to answer your messages. I was busy.”
“Do you think I’m an idiot? That I haven’t known you for two decades? Seen you in action? You were avoiding me like I was one of your one-night stands. One of your little third boys. Me.”
“I was giving you space,” Jeremy shot back. Owen had avoided him for three weeks, and he hadn’t gone off like this. “And it was a one-night stand, wasn’t it? We agreed it was only going to be one night. What the hell, man?”
“I didn’t agree to you acting like I didn’t exist. I wanted to make sure you were okay, and you didn’t let me because you were too busy running from what we did.” Owen stepped closer and reached out to grip his wrist, guiding his hand toward his cock. “You were avoiding this. Giving me space I didn’t ask for and pissing me off. Then I walk into the bar and you’re already working on lining up someone else for the night.”
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